Chapter 15
ELLE
It’s too late to go back to how things were before now.
And even if I could, would I change anything about what led me to this moment as I lay beside Nico in his bed?
Probably not. Even though I've questioned and mistrusted him every step of the way, and even hated him, there’s something about the connection that keeps drawing us both toward each other that has sunk into my blood like ink through skin.
Neither of us asked for the nights that changed us to happen, and perhaps neither of us has changed for the better.
But regardless of how each of our traumas has shaped us, or how broken we may have become because of it, our pasts and our fates have been intertwined.
Nico has been hiding in the shadows as the Ghost for his entire adult life, and I’ve built my life around chasing shadows in search of the truth.
Now, our paths have intersected in a very physical way, too.
I lay there beside him with my head resting in the crook of his arm.
This feels more real than anything else I think I’ve ever experienced.
It also feels morally questionable. I still don’t even know if I can trust him, not really.
Nico has kept secrets from me for years, and I have a strong feeling that he still is.
“You didn’t hold back from that,” I tease as I tip my head to look up at his face beside me.
It feels like the mood between us has changed completely. What had been hostile before has now been replaced with raw vulnerability. We both pulled our walls down just now so that we could let each other in. Whether they will stay down depends on how things go from here.
“I want to trust you, Nico,” I say from a place that is more honest desire now than it is accusatory. “But how can I trust you if you’re still hiding things from me?”
I don’t expect him to answer my rhetorical question or to suddenly decide to open up to me and hand over answers that he wasn’t willing to before we had sex. I also don’t expect him to toss me a breadcrumb of a clue. But to my surprise, he does.
“There is a man, a mafia kingpin, who spends a lot of time at the nightclub on the boulevard—the one right near the strip club with all the drag shows and the purple swan statues out front. It’s a very dangerous nightclub, and it’s also where the Bratva in Las Vegas go to meet.
” He pauses for a second before he continues.
“If I tell you more, you must promise me you won’t go to the club.
You’re good at sleuthing things out from afar.
The nightclub is too dangerous for someone like you to show your face around. ”
“I promise,” I say, eagerly wanting to hear more.
“I believe that the killer who shot your mother was associated with the mafia boss who frequents that nightclub.”
“But I thought you said that there were no leads about her murder in the mafia circles,” I say, not wanting to feel as if I’m getting the runaround again.
“I thought you said that it wasn’t a mafia hit job and that no mafia boss would have wanted to kill her since she didn’t do anything to cross anyone. ”
“I’m not saying that the boss at that club is the one responsible for killing her, or that he or any of the other bosses orchestrated her murder.
What I’m saying is that the trail leading back to the one who is responsible has a lot of moving parts and components.
Your mother’s killer, the real person behind hiring someone to shoot her, doesn’t want to be discovered.
But even within the most complicated, covert webs, there are always clues left behind.
And one such clue from that night is that the shooter has ties with the boss at that nightclub.
And the boss at that nightclub has ties to the person who set up the hit on your mother,” Nico explains.
“Nothing is ever simple or transparent, Elle. Not in Las Vegas and not when the mafia is involved. What might seem like a random street murder, or a quick hit job in which crime is blamed, and causation is brushed under the rug, usually runs much, much deeper than what it appears to be on the surface. Maybe if you do a bit of internet sleuthing and digging around, you’ll be able to sniff the trail back to its source. Just stay away from that club.”
I nod, letting my cheek brush against his shoulder in bed as I move my head. I have no intention of keeping that promise.
“Thank you for that,” I say.
“I know it’s not the whole answer that you’re looking for,” he says with a weary sigh. “But maybe it will help you uncover the truth. Just be prepared to deal with the truth when you find it, Elle.”
Something in his voice makes me think that he already knows where this is leading and whom it is leading toward.
I press him further, partly because I’m not sure that I’m ready to ruin this moment between us by getting back to the reality that is waiting for me once I get back to the city.
My “ghosts” will still be there to haunt me in the morning.
Just for tonight, I want to stay with this Ghost and pretend like there is a different way for our story to end.
One in which he isn’t the dark observer in the alley that night, but is my hero who not only saved me, but who is still going to save me and help me bring about the justice that my mother deserved to have.
Sleeping with Nico Vitale may have been reckless, and it might come with consequences that I haven’t even fathomed yet, not the least of which is the fact that I just let down my guard with the man who was supposed to be my enemy.
But even so, I don’t regret it. The way that he moved inside of me, and how he made me feel like I was strangely safe and worshipped with him, is not the kind of thing one can regret.
Tonight, Nico’s stark blue eyes weren’t cold when they looked at me; they were as hot as the bluest part inside of a flame. And tonight, we burned everything—especially ourselves. All that is left now is to see what rises from our ashes.