by A. C. Bextor
Ace’s Redemption, Devil’s Despair Book One
Copyright © A.C. Bextor 2014
This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher or author constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from this book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
ISBN 978163521345
Other titles available by A.C. Bextor
Book Description
Dedication
Quote
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
More information
Prologue – Hayden’s Verse
Other titles available by A.C. Bextor
Lights of Peril Series/Trilogy
Book One – Holding On
Book Two – The Way Home
Book Three – Toxic
Memories alone can ruin you. Fear has a paralyzing effect, and love isn’t always enough to keep you safe.
Ace was the gateway to a freedom I hadn’t known since I was fifteen. He offered his protection from the demons that haunted me, both living and dead.
Although I knew I wasn’t enough to keep him, this didn’t deter my hope that one day he’d love me for who I was, not the broken girl he tried so desperately to save.
In the end, the ghosts of my past found me. Their malevolence knew no bounds, and I was forced to succumb to their will of darkness. Each threat named against those I loved made any escape impossible; choosing my life for theirs became my desolate absolution.
Inevitably, my own weakness and self-doubt became my undoing.
Emotional ties are sometimes severed. Friendships don’t always endure their hardships, and love offered isn’t always returned.
I was in love once. For me, leaving her back in Ohio was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. For her, moving on with her life that included her son and the man she loved was no less than she deserved - unconditional happiness.
My reasons to bring Cherry home to California were obvious. I needed help with my family, and she needed help staying clean and convincing her parents she was ready to give her son the life he deserved.
It was a perfect plan. However, the best-laid plans often get lost amidst their best intentions.
Cherry fell in love with me, and in return, my love for her acted as the catalyst to her destruction.
Authors Note: This novel contains material that is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. Content includes: drug use, explicit language, violence, rape, and other scenarios with content that readers may find offensive. Please use caution when deciding on this book, as every reader has the right to understand the product before purchase.
Ace’s Redemption is the first standalone novel in the Devil’s Despair series. Although the main character of Ace was introduced during the Lights of Peril trilogy, you do not need to read that series in order to follow this one.
To the readers: Your excitement and support have brought Ace’s story to life. Some of you are looking forward to a happy ending, while some of you wish for him to bleed. Hopefully after reading, you agree that this man finally got everything he deserved.
SECONDS...
Minutes…
Hours…
They create memories that can last a lifetime.
It takes only a moment for a single event to change a person’s life; making them stronger or weaker depending on the circumstance that surrounds its mark at the given time. I think that’s why I used to write so many poems and short stories. I measured their plots twists and turns. It was the only way I was able to control any ending.
Although I had no one else’s to truly compare it to, I knew my life hadn’t been an easy one. I had lived through a lot of sadness and despair during my twenty-one years that I wouldn’t wish on even my worst enemy.
I had little to call my own, but my son was always mine, even when he wasn’t with me. I dropped Decklan off at my parents just five days after giving birth. They agreed I wasn’t able to care for him the way they could. My mom was disgusted with me and my dad was concerned for me, so they did as I asked without objection. There was no way possible I would have been able to raise a child, deal with Vinnie, and try to get clean all at once. The sacrifice I made for him nearly broke me, but I never lost hope that he’d be with me again.
Decklan’s father, my former pimp Vinnie, taught me a lesson in a ‘moment.’ This moment turned into an hour of humiliation and disgrace. I was sixteen and was coming back from working up one of his clients. I had stopped on my way back to pick up some orange juice at the convenience store. I was longing with thirst. Giving head and letting someone come down my throat for cash caused a thirst that I used to believe only orange juice could quench. I still hate the taste of both.
After my stop at the store, I had walked into Vinnie’s posh condo off the strip. He came to me, striding in his sexy and confident way, taking from my hand the money I had rightfully earned. Seconds passed as he counted it, out loud and in front of me; he saw I was exactly $2.18 short. His reaction to this was to beat me without consequence. I had always preferred Vinnie’s rapes to his beatings; the mob man was skilled in his ability to hit a woman.
Vinnie was beautiful - deceptively so, full-blooded Italian kind of beautiful. Dark eyes, black hair, Italian suits, shoes, and car; he was everything a young girl dreamed about. I fell for that exact disguise, but it wasn’t tough considering he bought me jewelry, clothes, purses, and shoes. He romanced me, even at my young age. He had me believing he thought I was beautiful.
I was just fifteen when we met. I didn’t finally break free of him until I was seventeen and stole my parents’ car. Reluctantly, leaving my son behind, I drove as far East as I could until I finally felt safe enough to start over. That’s where I met April, also known as Kegs.
Greyson Meyer. He was another ‘moment.’ When he took me from my own home that night back in Ohio, I knew that night would forever change the course of my life. Not so unlike my times with Vinnie, but much worse. Vinnie was predictable and wasn’t nearly as demented. Greyson spent hours trying to break me into giving him information I didn
’t have, giving me blow, delivering beatings, and worst of all, raping me into submission, only to return me to my miserable life to carry on with even more damaging memories of it. I was used as a pawn in a vicious war between two rival motorcycle clubs, each seeking vengeance against the other. Lights of Peril versus Angels in Hell.
Mark “Ace” Jensen was the light of my life and meant something to me since the day we met. I loved him. I had made no secret of that. As far as I was concerned, if he had ever given me the chance, I would have spent my days and nights loving him how I knew he deserved to be loved. If only he could’ve seen me, well and truly saw me for the person I was and let me love him for exactly who he was to me.
He never understood what circumstance I meant that love to be in, though, and I always knew I wasn’t enough to keep him. My love for Ace was never going to be strong enough to shadow his constant heart-rending longing for Sadey. So many nights I had spent wishing I was her; to look like her, to love and be loved like her, to have what she had in her Peril family. She had Ace. So to me, she had everything.
Sadey Lyons holds Ace’s heart. Distance, measured in miles, won’t change anything; she knows this. As much as she tried not to hurt him, she never could love him back with the same passion and intensity he deserved. There’s only room in Sadey’s heart for one man, and that’s Hem. Anyone who gets in the way of Hem’s love for his Sadey Girl goes into that risking mental torture, heartache, and despair. That’s the kind of life-long bond those two have. It’s epic. The problem was that Ace adamantly refused to see it.
Patrick “Hem” Collins is President of the Lights of Peril motorcycle club, Sage, Ohio chapter. I’ve come to know him as dedicated, brave, and loyal to a fault. He and Sadey have lived a beautiful love story; one that has stood the test of both heartache and suffering. Sadey would never let go of Hem, even if he were no longer living. Her heart beats only for him and his for her.
When I asked Ace if I could follow him back home to California, I was hesitantly worried of his reaction. He looked at me, shrugged, and said, “If you can cook, clean, watch my sister, help my grandma, and not be a nagging bitch, fine. You’re gettin’ clean first and if you can’t do that, you’re out. Don’t want that life around my sister, so I’m not bringing it home for her to live with.”
There was no way for Ace to have any idea what his words meant to me at the time. No one had ever taken a chance on me before. In his grief, I wasn’t sure if his decision to let me come with him was branched from the heartache of losing Sadey or that he really liked me enough as a person to use whatever skills I had to assist him. Looking back, though, I now know it was because he needed someone there who reminded him of a love he would never have, his Sadey Bug.
I don’t remember the exact ‘moment’ when I decided that enough was finally enough. The pain Vinnie had caused in keeping me from my son. The haunting memories of a monster in disguise, Greyson Meyer. The grief I felt leaving my friends in Ohio. Finally, came the last arrow to the chest. Ace’s angered words shouting at me in exasperation that I would never be anything but a lost and willing victim. That was the final assault on my already emotionally damaged sense of self. There was nothing else to do, nowhere else to go, and no one around to care.
Therefore, I died in a ‘moment’, and it’s the last one I remember.
Five months earlier…
CHERRY AND I have been back from Ohio for two weeks. During this time, I’ve not let her out of my sight, whatsoever. Cherry’s past is haunted, and right now, she can’t afford to risk any unnecessary, damning exposure that would cause her to lose progress in any way. I promised our friends at Peril that I’d take care of her, and this is what I’m doing. I’m keeping her safe, whether it’s in a manner she finds agreeable or not.
So far, she’s stayed clean. Cherry isn’t a drug addict; however, she uses them as an escape. There are triggers that aim for her, so at any time her using could turn into an addiction. Luckily, my friends and family don’t use, and I don’t tolerate it, so barring any mishap on her end, I trust she’s going to be fine.
Tonight, I’m taking her to The Ward, a bar downtown where my friends and I hang out. Together they have a band that sets up every Friday night and they play from nine to midnight. The Ward isn’t a bar that I look forward to taking Cherry into, though. It’s inevitable, by her appearance alone, that she’s going to end up being a target for every man, taken or not, and she’s doing this without knowing it.
Unfortunately, I’ve realized this too late. I’m in my truck waiting for her to finish getting ready, and as I look up the stairs to my apartment, there she is, every single mouthwatering inch of her.
She’s wearing a tight, white, button-down blouse that shows off her navel, displaying her cherry jewel piercing with it. She has on an even-tighter black skirt that hugs her hips, and to bottom out her already-sexy-as-fuck ensemble are a pair of bright red fuck-me heels.
Is she trying to kill me with this bullshit?
Knowing I’m not exactly level-headed when it comes to anyone that I give a shit about being ogled, the way men will ogle at her in that outfit, I reign in my emotion long enough to express my thought.
Hopping down and out of my beat-up red truck, I walk toward her and bellow loud enough so she understands my words, their tone, and what I want her to do with them.
“What the fuckin’ hell are you wearin’, Cherry?”
She stops mid-step near the bottom of the wooden staircase, looking surprised. Her head lifts and she aims her glare directly at me. “What are you talking about?”
“No fuckin’ way.” Pointing above her to the apartment door, I continue. “Get back in there and put somethin’ else on. You’re not leaving here lookin’ like that.”
She’s pissed, and with her snarky tone and attitude, she grabs the side of her skirt as if explaining to me what I’ve missed. “It’s a skirt, Ace. It’s cute, and I just bought it today when Sarah and I were at the mall.”
“It would fit Sarah. It doesn’t fuckin’ fit you, Cherry. Go change. We leave in five.”
She starts to say something in her defense, so I quickly send her a glare and luckily manage to hear only a few of her words of contempt for me. “God, Ace. You’re worse than my father ever was.”
“Woman, do it,” I yell as I turn my back on her and walk back to the driver’s side of my truck.
Slamming the door after climbing back into it, I watch as Cherry stands still, her eyes burrowing into mine with challenge. Through the broken windshield, we engage in a momentary stare-down that ends with her flippin’ me her middle finger before turning around and marching back into the house to change.
Fuck that skirt and those goddamn tanned, toned legs that stand under it.
As I sit waiting for Cherry to come back, my mind wanders to a place I find easy and comfortable - Sadey. My life without her in it feels empty. I’m left to suffer in grief knowing she’s happy, healthy, and most-assuredly, she’s loved. I should be relieved to know she’ll spend her days being cared for and adored by a strong man worthy of her, but I’m not; instead, I’m drowning in my own self-pity and self-sorrow. No matter what I do to fill the days that pass, my heart aches for her.
Sadey has a beautiful, vibrant, and caring soul. Her heart holds so much love for those that matter to her that it’s evident in everything she does. She laughs at herself and doesn’t mind others laughing at her. The woman is gorgeous even when she cries, which is something she’s famous for. Wearing her heart on her sleeve, Sadey doesn’t hold back any emotion, never hiding behind a mask for anyone. This is the kind of purity I had never known in my life until I met her and still fear I’ll never know something so great again.
The day I met Sadey, I was one of the newest members to join Peril. I was referred to as a prospect. There were a series of events that any new person had to go through in order to become an equal member of the motorcycle club. At the time, I was going through these challenges one by one. I was als
o an asshole.
I remember I was sitting on a bar stool, that at the time I liked to refer to as my own, having a beer with another prospect, Gunner. Sadey had just walked in with her best friend, Mace. They were laughing at whatever women laugh at so hysterically. Once Sadey caught me staring at her, she tilted her head, smiled, and walked toward me without any hesitation.
Her hair was the color of the sun, I thought, red and gold. She smelled of summer, fresh and clean. Her voice, so soft and gentle, was new to me. I was taken. My heart immediately gave itself to her within moments of our first words.
“Hi. I haven’t met you yet, have I?” She had asked through a shy grin.
“No, I don’t think so.” I was hesitant. I had no idea who the woman was. She didn’t look like anyone there. She didn’t belong there, not in the company of men like me, anyway.
Before she left me further confused, she told me who she was and it was then that at least some of the pieces came together. “I’m Sadey Lyons. That’s my best friend Mace Cash over here.” She pointed to a door near the stairs where I found Mace talking to another brother, and the motorcycle club’s Vice President, Shame. “She’s Hem’s little sister.”
I nodded, finally understanding why women of this stature would’ve had business in being there. They were relations, therefore protected and held above all others with respect and care. Nervously, I offered a small greeting. “Hey.”
Her small shoulders shrugged quickly for emphasis, and she offered me a bigger smile than the one before. Her tiny dimples amplified on each cheek. “Hi.”
“So, how long have you known Shame and Hem?” My instinct, an instinct I had never felt for or about anyone else, was to protect her. Her innocence shouldn’t be tainted by those in the room. These men shouldn’t be given the right to look at her. Thankfully, the place was almost empty, and even Gunner had excused himself from his place next to me at the bar.