Ace's Redemption

by A. C. Bextor

  Preparing for this meeting, I ask Cherry, “Hey, you need a drink?”

  Her eyes scan the room and without looking at me, she answers with uncertainty. “Uhh, that would be good, I think. Thank you.”

  When I called The Ward earlier to be sure the boys were still playing this weekend, I had already questioned if bringing her here was a good idea; however, I was at a loss on what to do or where to take her. She’s asked me all week to show her the city, but anything else would have been too ‘date-like’, and I don’t want to go there with her. To me, Cherry’s off-limits entirely.

  “Don’t be nervous. They’re nice guys for the most part. Do yourself a favor and ignore Hayden.”

  After I say his name, I feel the slap to the back of my head. “What’s that, asshole? You bad-mouthing me in front of my new friend already?”

  I stand, giving him a one-arm man hug. It doesn’t matter how many weeks or months pass, we fall back into familiar rhythm with each other with ease. “I was just tellin’ Cherry to ignore your ass.”

  Pulling up a chair from the table behind us, he places it next to Cherry as he turns it around so he sits straddling it. He puts his hand out for hers in greeting. “Hi. I’m Hayden. Ignore anything Ace here has told you about me. I’m not a bad guy.”

  Cherry reaches her hand to his and, for reasons unknown to myself, I can’t look away from their contact. “Hi. I’m Cherry.”

  Still holding her hand, Hayden inquires about what her name means. He doesn’t understand the difference between a local band slut versus a club whore and the nickname that goes with it. “Cherry? That’s your name?”

  Her facial expression remaining neutral, she answers. “That’s what people call me.”

  Hayden looks confused, his blue eyes never leaving Cherry. He’s assessing. I know this look. He’s considering the amount of work it will take for her to submit and become his for the night.

  Fuck that.

  Seconds pass and before she can elaborate further on her name, Travis sits down beside me. His eyes make it to Hayden and Cherry, who are still holding hands across the table, and his eyebrows lift in question. Tired of watching Hayden’s attempt to hit on Cherry, I knuckle-slap his hand as it holds hers.

  Putting his hands up in surrender, Hayden explains. “Sorry, man, didn’t know she was taken. Just wanted to get a name anyway. Calm the fuck down, Conan.”

  “Raegan.” Hayden’s eyes move from mine to hers. He’s shocked to hear her speak. Most women either throw themselves at his feet or shy away under his personality and good looks. Oddly, I can’t remember the last woman, other than Marlee, who has held a casual conversation with Hayden Flynn.

  “Rae.” He repeats on a sigh, looking her up and down, already coining her a nickname.

  “Raegan.” She corrects him.

  Ignoring her completely, he continues with the introduction. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Rae.”

  She either ignores his persistence or disregards him entirely, but she accepts his words as he says them. “Thank you.”

  After a few seconds of watching this play out, I have to ask. I’m such an ass that I have to ask her for verification of her name. “That’s your name? Your name is Raegan?”

  She laughs and, as she does, she immediately has the attention of every man at the table. She’s beautiful when she smiles, but Cherry’s laugh is innocent and clean. It’s also immediately addicting. “Yeah, Ace, that’s my name. Everyone has one. Did you assume only I didn’t?”

  “It’s not that, I just… well, you’ve never told me your name.”

  Tilting her head to the side, giving me a brief smile and thoughtful expression, she reminds me, “You never asked.”

  She’s right. I’ve never even asked her fuckin’ name. I’ve known her for over a year. I’ve fucked her and used her body to help heal my heartache, and I brought her home to Sarah and Bean, but I never fuckin’ asked her name.

  I’m an ass.

  “It’s a pretty name,” Travis tells her. He doesn’t talk a lot, so having him talk directly to her and give her a compliment after just meeting her is a big fuckin’ deal. Hayden and I make eye contact, both our faces mirroring one another in shock.

  Smiling sweetly, Cherry answers his compliment, as well. “Thank you.”

  Luckily, Marlee interrupts the awkward conversation with a round of drinks. Having Hayden touch her then Travis pay her any attention at all is making me tense. “Drink up, boys. You’re on in ten. No fucking around. Mel’s still way pissed off about last week.” She sends a glare to Hayden and he stops his drink mid-air, waiting for her to finish. “Hayden, no women on stage tonight; that’s the rules. Mel says he’s not running a brothel and next time, you’re out. Which means we’re all out. Which means Toby’s out of a job and that doesn’t work for me. Got it?”

  “Oh, fuck Mel. It was one dance, and the bitch was certainly pleased with me after the show,” he says on a wink as he finally takes a drink of his beer.

  Cherry watches as Toby comes up behind Marlee, his frame towering over hers. “Jesus Christ, Hayden. No manners.” After moving his wife’s long, blonde hair to the side, he leans down into her and kisses her neck. She sighs as she accepts his intimate gesture. Looking at the two, a person recognizes they belong together.

  “Ace.” He nods once in greeting. “Good to have you back, man. Didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” Toby knows the story of Sadey. He met Hem while he was here stalled up in my apartment for several months earlier this year. The two and their personalities are polar opposite, but they got along as if they had known each other forever.

  “I’m back. No reason to leave again. This is home.”

  Cherry reaches for me under the table, sensing the loss I still feel for the only woman I’ve ever loved. She squeezes my thigh, and I put my hand on top of hers, signaling to her that I’m all right.

  The boys start moving. Finally, the band’s about to hit the stage.

  “HEY.” ACE HAS to yell over the music due to the crowd’s roar of appreciation for Devil’s Despair. “You want another drink?”

  I nod before answering, thinking he’d never ask. My nerves had me devouring the first cranberry vodka as they escalated beyond anything I thought they would. I wasn’t ready for this crowd. “That’d be good. Thank you.”

  Leaning toward me, Ace explains the obvious as if I wouldn’t already know. “Drink slow, Cherry. We’re gonna be here a while, and I don’t want you losing your fuckin’ focus while we’re in this place. I’m not sayin’ that to scare you, but things are gonna get crazier as the night goes on.”

  Again, I nod, hoping if I don’t converse with him further, he’ll get his ass up and get me my liquid courage before I decide to aim for the door and bolt.

  “Are you fuckin’ listening to me?”

  Annoyed.

  He’s getting annoyed, so I answer quickly. “Yes! I’m listening. Drink slow. Things will get crazy. I heard you.”

  Releasing a short sigh, Ace kisses my temple as he stands. He senses my nerves are getting the best of me. “Good. Now, stay put. I’ll be right back.” He squeezes my shoulder in reassurance before walking away.

  I’m up front, sitting at the same table we were at before the band took stage. There aren’t any fans blocking my view and, since I finally get a few minutes alone, I’m going to use them to take the time to enjoy the sight in front of me.

  The band is spinning the crowd up with their remake of Journey’s “Lovin’, Touchin’, Squeezin’.” Women are screaming Hayden’s name as he reaches down off the stage to meet hands with several of them. I’ve never been to see a live band, not in my entire life, so this is all new to me. It’s different and definitely entertaining.

  While scanning the stage, I find Travis’s eyes on me. His stare isn’t uncomfortable or inappropriate, but it’s a telling stare nonetheless. His reserved demeanor was evident when he sat here with his group of friends earlier. Even with them, he didn’t seem at ease,
and I didn’t get the impression it was because of my presence. His face tells a story; he has something to say. From what I recognize in myself, he has a past that haunts him, and if that is true, he and I have that in common.

  Toby has lost himself while pounding the drums to the beat of the music. From what little I know of him, he seems to be a calm and easy-going person, and to witness his stage presence is the same. He’s fluent with his movements and keeps his head bobbing to the beat of the music. Marlee is standing next to the stage, on the floor directly under him, looking up. She’s watching him play as if this is the first time she’s ever laid eyes on him. Every now and then, throughout the song, he lifts his head knowing exactly where she’s standing and gives her a knowing wink and smile. Their connection is obvious to all others that surround them.

  It’s clear that Toby isn’t allowed to have groupies of any sort. That’s her spot to have alone next to the stage, and I haven’t seen another woman make a move to enter their private area. I imagine, with what little I know of Marlee, that she’s made it clear to others she’s already laid claim and won’t hesitate to defend her territory.

  Hayden is a story in himself. He’s beautiful to look at, and those icy blue eyes are evocative. He has heartbreak written all over that gorgeous white smile he knowingly displays. The deep dimples ensure that the broken-hearted remember him long after he’s left them. His voice is sultry and longing, aiming for and drawing in the women of the crowd. He makes contact with the fans, running his hands into theirs, every now and then stopping to smile and wink at a select chosen few.

  Man whore.

  It’s hard to imagine Ace having anything in common with this group, but they all appear tight, brothers bonded together in the lyrical sense.

  As I finish off my current drink, I’m surprised when I feel a pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind me. Thinking it’s Ace, I smile, but when my eyes find Travis’s again, I find he looks uncomfortable and pissed off. He continues playing the keyboard, but his face never leaves mine or this table.

  Looking up, I find it’s not Ace staring down at me. I don’t know the man holding me to him, and my skin crawls as I realize I’m alone in a crowd. The force of his hands clenching my shoulders paralyzes me.

  As he leans down to my ear, the smell of stale cigarettes, scotch, and body odor overtake my senses and render me frozen and speechless. A thousand memories of my past take hold. Within a fraction of a second, I’m transported back to the basement at the Angel’s compound as Greyson Meyer told one of his men to fuck me until I bled.

  “Dance, sweetheart?” His voice is hoarse, stained with a predatory tone.

  I don’t answer. I can’t. My mind can’t think fast enough to process thought without fear.

  Grabbing my shoulders tightly, he attempts to make me stand, but I hold the table with both hands. I feel the pads of my fingers turning white. I’m not letting go for fear of reliving any nightmare from my past.

  He whispers disgustingly again. “Just a dance, honey. C’mon, look at you.”

  I drop his filthy stare and move my eyes to the front of the room, in search of the band on stage, silently begging someone to take notice. The problem is, they don’t recognize my anxiety. Ace may have never shared my past with them so from what they see, this man isn’t unwelcome. For all anyone in here knows, he and I could be friends.

  It isn’t until I refuse him that things quickly get out of control. “I’m not dancing with you.” I hear the uncertainty in my own voice but remain guarded and ready for anything.

  Moving to my side, he pulls my hair and, to avoid further pain, I stand as the chair beneath me falls backwards. “Bitches think they can come in here looking like you, come in here dressed like that and smelling like pussy, but refuse every man who shows any interest.” An evil laugh comes out as I start to shake. “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

  Turning me around to face him, he grinds himself into my body, thighs to chest. He’s hard. Like most men I’ve been acquainted with in my young life, I recognize his sickness immediately: he gets off on hurting women.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  I hear Greyson’s voice in my head. I feel Greyson’s hands on my body. My mind has left The Ward and I picture myself laying on that bed, in that dungeon, both beaten and broken.

  No, please. No more, I’m not strong enough.

  Before he gets a chance to kiss me, I come back from the memory when I hear the music behind me stop. The sound of a microphone hitting the floor and Hayden yelling for Travis has the predator looking over my head to what’s coming toward us.

  Harshly, I’m pushed aside as Travis goes shoulder-first into the man’s torso, not stopping until they both hit the bar floor. The crowd stands back, some screaming in excitement while others are shouting in fear. Travis is on top of him and, with fury, he’s pounding into his face, using one fist at a time but in a constant stream of anger.

  I don’t move.

  After hearing Hayden make his way to me while telling Toby to find Ace, he wraps his arms around my waist, securing me to him from behind. Using a gentle and soothing voice, he asks, “Rae? You all right?”

  I nod.

  Without my verbal confirmation, he continues prodding me to talk. “Babe, where’s Ace?”

  “Drink.” That’s all I can muster as I continue watching Travis beat a man for touching me.

  Hayden nods to Toby, lifting his chin toward the bar. Toby nods in response and moves through the crowd to find Ace.

  Finally, Travis has had enough. Standing from the bloody-faced man, he shouts his anger. “Don’t come back here, motherfucker. If we see you again, it won’t be just me who takes care of you.” His final act is to spit on the man as he lies on the ground, holding his nose and roaring in pain.

  Travis scans the circle around us until he finds Hayden and me. “Hey. You got her?” He’s talking directly to Hayden. He won’t even make eye contact with me.

  “Yeah. She’s shaking a little, but she’s good.” Bending down, talking in my ear, Hayden must know I’m still not together. “Aren’t you, babe?”

  I can’t move other than to shake my head back and forth. No, I’m not good. I can’t get the feeling of his hands on me out of my mind. Hayden doesn’t say anymore. He just pulls me closer to him, his arms draping across my chest and waist.

  Finally, Ace makes his way through the crowd and it’s likely Travis, judging by his reaction, was the one waiting patiently for Ace so he could let out more anger. “What the fuck did you leave her alone for, idiot?”

  Ace looks at me, then to the man still attempting to recoup, and back to me. Rushing to us, he forces Hayden to release me and pulls my body into his. Using his hands, he searches my face, neck, arms, and body. “Fuck, Cherry. Are you all right? I didn’t think…”

  Travis, still angry, continues to yell at Ace. “No, Ace. She’s fuckin’ not all right. Goddamn it! When do we ever leave women we bring here alone? Are you fuckin’ crazy?” Taking in a few breaths in order to calm himself, I sense Travis isn’t done. I’m right, and I find his next words hurt. “Get her the fuck outta here. She’s a distraction this place doesn’t need.”

  Ace only stands for so much. He’s worried about me, not about his friend who’s about two seconds from going at Ace with his fists held tight. “Shut the fuck up, Travis. I have her.”

  “No. Apparently, you do not have her. You fucked up. What if we wouldn’t have been here? Jesus Christ!”

  Ace ignores Travis and looks back to me as Toby pulls Travis back while trying to calm him down. “Cherry, get your shit and let’s go. Fun’s over.”

  “Yeah… ‘cause she was having a fuck of a good time already, wasn’t she, Ace?” Travis sneers, but Ace doesn’t respond.

  Still, I don’t say anything. It’s been a long time since I’ve so vividly remembered my past like this. Things were good again, I thought.

  On the way home, the only sound in the truck is Ace humming. I don’
t recognize the tune, but it’s filling the air and mildly dulling the tension. Twenty minutes pass before Ace tires of the silence and breaks it.

  Not looking at me but to the dark road ahead, he wants to know where my mood’s at. “Hey, you okay? What are you thinking about over there?”

  “Neil Diamond.” It’s random, but it’s true. Anytime I feel stressed or scared, I think about my childhood before it all turned to shit. My parents loved Neil Diamond; it’s a memory I’ve clung to and find myself smiling often in remembrance.

  “Uh, why the fuck are you thinking about him? He’s gotta be like a hundred years old by now, right?”

  Looking out the window, I mask an indifference that I don’t feel. “Not sure. He just came to mind, I guess.”

  Moving his hand from the steering wheel, he grabs mine as it sits on my lap. I don’t respond when he squeezes it gently. Honestly, I just want to be left alone. I didn’t miss the way Marlee looked at Ace when we first walked in. She was questioning how Ace had been since leaving Sadey in Ohio just weeks before. It’s obvious to the others that he left his heart behind when leaving her. I’m the stand-in, the filler, the poor sap who had nowhere to go so she followed him home. I’ve been that girl all my life, and I’m finding myself growing tired of it.

  “Your friend Travis doesn’t like me.”

  Ace pauses before answering me. “He doesn’t like anyone, so don’t take that personally.”

  “I guess. He’s that angry all the time?”

  “Yeah, he’s been like this since high school, from what I can remember.”

  Pulling up to the apartment, Ace stops the truck and kills the engine but makes no move to get out. “You’re sleeping with me tonight. In my bed.”

  I’ve been sleeping in the living room since we got here a couple weeks ago. Bean and Sarah share a room, and Ace has his own. The apartment is a two-bed, one-bath and, for lack of a better term, it’s a shack. The kitchen is small with no table, just a bar with two stools that connect it to the living room, which houses only a smaller-sized couch and TV set. The windows, though - they make the apartment appear bright and homey. Two large, square windows taking up the entire wall showcase the city and all its surroundings.