Ace (Syns of Desert Angels MC Book 1)

by L. M. Reign

  The motherfucker can’t take his damn eyes off of her, like her sheer beauty was holding him hostage. I would know because that’s why I’m here. I’m her goddamn hostage and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.

  As much as we talk and fuck, we still haven’t addressed our unresolved history. The same history she’s hell-bent on not letting me explain.

  Every minute that we spend together makes the five-year gap between us feel even shorter, like nothing but a bad motherfucking dream.

  I know she wants to ask me. I can see the question running through her mind on repeat when our conversations get close to it. Her eyes always darken, withholding something from me. Like once she asks, she’ll have to admit something. And now she’s here, acting like the time we’ve spent together means jack shit.

  “If she ends up in that bastard’s bed, I’ll kill him. And then I’ll break her. Bend her into submission,” I snarl.

  “Yup. You need to calm down,” Brass sighs. “It’s just a job, man. It ain’t real.”

  “Who’re you tryin’ to convince? Fuck that shit. Look at him. He’s got his goddamn hands all over her. He put his fuckin’ lips on my mouth.”

  “Your mouth, huh?” I didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking.

  God, I’m so pussy whipped.

  I scowl, not bothering to dignify his stupid ass with a response. Instead, I focus my thoughts on what I’m going to do to her when she gets back in my bed.

  First, I’m going to scrub her raw until there’s nothing anywhere on her from him. Just me. The thought of what I’m going to do to her has me tenting uncomfortably in my pants.

  My eyes stay glued to them as the crowd parts, allowing them to weave their way through the gyrating bodies towards the bar. His hand rests possessively on her side. The side that’s riddled with bruises from Dash.

  Fuck Dash.

  Fuck that bastard over there, too.

  Mila settles into a vacant stool while his arms cage her in, towering over her as he waves the bartender over. She props her hand under her chin, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she stares at me.

  I almost smirk since it’s reminiscent of what we used to do when we were younger, stealing stolen glances and small smiles like we were keeping some precious secret between the two of us.

  “Dude, let’s go get some breakfast,” Milo nudged me from my spot on the floor.

  “No,” I groan, swatting blindly at nothing in particular.

  “Get up. Maryse is making French toast and Mila will eat it all if we don’t get down there.”

  “I’m up,” I tell him, pulling my sluggish form from the pallet of blankets on the floor. The mention of Maryse’s French toast and Mila spurred me on. I was starting to like her more than I’d like to admit.

  “Nice of you two to join us,” Maryse’s warm voice mingled with the heady scent of cinnamon deliciousness.

  “Had to wake up dumbo over here,” Milo tossed over his shoulder.

  “Quit lyin’. You were jerkin’ it this mornin’,” I cringed at my retort, forgetting who I was in the presence of.

  A strangled, choking laugh filled the air and I knew it was her. She was sitting at the breakfast bar, her lean legs crisscrossed while she ate. Her dark hair was braided down her back in some kind of intricate style that made her look absolutely angelic.

  “That’s why there’s a surplus in socks from your room lately,” Maryse responded.

  My eyes popped open to see her shaking her head at Milo while he grumbled something about playing sports and needing to change socks a lot.

  “I can’t breathe!” Mila was wheezing, holding a napkin up to her nose. “Milk went up my nose. Oh my God!” She was clutching her stomach, her face scrunched up with painful laughter. The sight made me smile.

  “I only change socks because I play sports! Shut up, brat.”

  “Masturbation is natural, Milo,” Maryse launched into an explanation.

  “Oh. My. God,” Milo groaned, slapping his hands over his face in embarrassment. “Can we not talk about this? Please?”

  “Fine. Here, Cole,” she handed me a plate with a wink. “Fill up for breakfast. I won’t be making the next meal until a little after noon. I have shopping to do. If you need anything, yourself included, please write it down on this list.” Maryse pushed a pen and pad across the counter. “Now I need to go do laundry.”

  The memory burns my chest as intense longing spikes through my mood. All I want to do is go back to the start.

  If I could... all the things I would do differently.

  Instead, I focus on Mila’s smile. I don’t return it because I’m pissed, and she needs to know it. She falters while her gaze searches my face.

  The bartender delivers their drinks only to be dismissed with a short wave. Sangster strikes up a conversation, and I can’t fucking take watching the way he’s pawing at my girl. Her shoulders, her neck, her hair.

  Fuck him.

  “Fuck this.” I slam my drink back and order another.

  “Take it easy or you’ll be ridin’ bitch with me tonight. I’ve got better plans in mind so don’t fuck it up for me.”

  “Fuck you,” I growl, slamming back the second once the bartender refills. “Another,” I order. “Just leave the bottle.”

  “It’s just a job,” Brass reminds me. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Doesn’t fuckin’ mean anything. You really believe that? You really think that she doesn’t enjoy his fuckin’ paws on her? Or that Ness doesn’t enjoy grindin’ her ass on that fucker? Sure looks like they fuckin’ enjoy it.”

  “Careful,” his stern warning cuts my tirade short.

  Running my hands over my face, I groan. “What the fuck are we doin’ here?”

  “I don’t know what you’re doin’ here. You’re just torturin’ yourself. I know why I am. She’s standin’ over there with that fuckin’ half baked, extra hairy kiwi. He’s definitely not her fuckin’ type.”

  “Now you sound like Rook,” I rib him.

  He chuckles. “Fuck you, man. Look, it’s almost over. Mila needs to distract the guy, feeding him a few drinks long enough for Ness to lift prints from him.”

  I snap my head towards him. “Ness told you the plan?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck, ashamed. “I had Rook bug her phone the other night.”

  “What the fuck? I should’ve done that.”

  He looks their way and back to me. “Don’t look, man. Just... don’t look.”

  I ignore his bullshit warning and fucking look, immediately regretting it. His hands are cradling her face while fucking chomping on her lips.

  I catapult to my feet, shooting my drink across the room where it shatters into pieces against the wall. I start towards them, but Brass pulls me back.

  “Ain’t the time, brother. Calm. The fuck. Down.”

  He repeats the last part like a mantra. Over and over. It does nothing to soothe the torrent of anger and volatile emotions running through me.

  My movements gained the attention of those around us and at the bar. All eyes are currently on me, including Mila’s and that bastard’s. He quirks his eyebrow up like he’s daring me to make a move.

  “We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” came a rough voice from behind us. Turning around, I come face-to-face with the same bouncer that let us in earlier.

  “We’re leavin’,” Brass answers, tossing some bills on the counter. “C’mon,” he takes my arm, guiding me towards the door.

  It takes me about ten times the normal effort to calm my breathing and speak. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

  My eyes never leave Mila’s until hers are forced away from me by that fucking dago grabbing her chin.

  I wouldn’t let her in my life because I was protecting her. If this is her life, I want nothing to do with it.

  _____________________

  Mila

  Witnessing Cole’s outburst put me on edge. I knew exactly what set him off and
am disgusted by the lingering wetness his lips left on mine.

  The desire to go talk to Cole is so strong that I can’t take my eyes off of his while Brass escorts him out.

  Cold fingers grip my chin, turning my attention back to the man in front of me. Every fiber in my body is screaming at me to run to the man outside. The one who wears his beautiful heart on his sleeve. The one who isn’t afraid to continually claim me no matter how many times I push him away. The one I... love. The realization is almost paralyzing, bringing a small smile to my face.

  “Hey, don’t worry about him. He won’t hurt you,” Sangster tells me, mistaking the worry in my eyes for my safety. “Have I changed your mind yet?”

  “Hmmm,” I look away distractedly.

  Come on, Ness.

  I pretend to focus on his body, but I’m scanning the bar for an out when I realize his drink is gone. A slow smile spreads across my face and I meet his eyes without hesitation.

  “No,” I answer pointedly.

  “Excuse me?” The shock in his voice is almost laughable.

  “No. You haven’t changed my mind,” I stand and lean into him. “But that just means you’ll have to try again another night.” I place a small peck on his cheek and make my way to the door.

  Ness sidles up beside me, linking her arm through mine.

  “Got it?” I asked, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Yup,” she pats her clutch. “Let’s get outside. Brass said they’d be waiting.”

  _____________________

  Cole

  “They’re comin’,” Brass informs me as I lean against the building. The muted beat makes my temples throb angrily. “I told her we were back here.”

  A few seconds later, we hear the telltale clack of heels as they round the corner. Straightening to my full height, I rest my hand on the handlebar of my bike.

  When they are ten feet away, Ness breaks free, leaving Mila as she rushes over to Brass. A small squeal peels from her mouth when he picks her up.

  “Ready?” He asks her. I watch my friend openly touch his woman and am instantly jealous at how easily he can let this go.

  He’s calm because she knows she’s his.

  “Yes. You good, Mi?” Ness calls over her shoulder while Brass drags her towards his bike.

  Mila’s only response was a curt nod, still rooted a good few feet away from me. She’s quiet.

  Too quiet.

  “I know you’re angry,” she calls out.

  “I am,” I say, surprised at the calmness in my voice, despite the anger roiling within me.

  “It’s just a job.”

  “That’s what I’m part of, right? This job,” I spit with disgust.

  “It’s just a job,” she repeats, her voice a quiet whisper like her windpipe was closing.

  “Doesn’t mean I fuckin’ like it.”

  I ram my hands into my pockets so I don’t do something stupid. Like kiss her because she’s so fucking gorgeous or smash my fists into the damn wall.

  “Look,” she moves closer, holding her hands out like I’m some wild animal she wants to tame. “Sometimes, I have to do things like this. Because it’s what needs to be done in order to get the job done.”

  “He fuckin’ kissed you, touched you, and you expect me to be okay with that? I won’t share my girl with anyone. Not even the fuckin’ Syndicate.”

  She recoils away from me before squaring her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she continues. “I don’t expect you to be okay with it. But try to understand, Cole. This is my life. I can’t change it any more than you can.”

  “You didn’t even want to be in the damn Syndicate!” I roared, my fury finally surfacing.

  “And you didn’t want to be a biker!” Her ferocity unleashes, matching my own.

  The words that we spoke to each other in bed were now used as weapons.

  “No. Fuck that. We are different. At least we have morals and don’t hand people over to our fuckin’ enemies!”

  “What are you even talking about?” She looked confused. But that didn’t stop the next words from tumbling from my mouth.

  “Asher said you handed her over to the dagos for skin trade. After what I saw in there, I fuckin’ believe it.”

  The instant the words left me, I knew it was the beginning of the end.

  No, I could feel it.

  _____________________

  Mila

  His words knock the breath out of me, and I step even further away from him. Creating a chasm in space that he created with words.

  His hatred and anger were the two constants, slapping me in the face. A harsh reminder why this wouldn’t work. No matter how much love was involved, it wouldn’t work. Before I could argue, I felt a cascading calmness settle over me.

  This is why you’re better off alone. He’s not accepting now, and he won’t be accepting then. Leave. Get out. Finish the job and go back to your life.

  I found solace in the hurt he inflicted on me. After all, it was what he was best at doing.

  Leaving and hurting.

  Wrecking and ruining.

  I meet his gaze. Even when angry and hurt, he’s still so beautiful. Where before, I didn’t know what to do with him. Now, I know I need to go.

  “Asher is not worth my time, focus, or any of my goddamn energy. And neither are you.” Pride raised her hands in victory at the steadiness in my voice.

  Don’t falter.

  Don’t fall.

  Go.

  Turning on my heel, I make my way towards my car, the weight of his accusations threatening to crush me. But I wouldn’t let them.

  He’s just like all those fucking people in school with their preconceived notions about me without truly knowing me. I didn’t fight them then, and I won’t fight him now.

  “Mila. Fuck! Wait,” I hear his steel toe boots clopping on the concrete behind me.

  “Fuck off, Cole,” I say loud enough for him to hear while unlocking the door and slamming it as he reaches my side.

  “Mila, I’m so-” I cut him off with a rev of my engine. He starts banging on the window with such force that I’m surprised it didn’t break.

  Lurching forward, I leave him with the unapologetic sounds of my squealing tires.

  Chapter 16

  Cole

  “You’ve reached the voicemail box o-”

  “Goddamnit!” I kill the millionth call, throwing my phone on the bed.

  Mila didn’t come back to the clubhouse that night and I haven’t seen her since. No one has any idea where she is. Fucking Milo and Dash won’t tell me, Ness won’t even tell Brass, and Ma’s expecting her to be at the Christmas party tomorrow.

  “I’m a fuckin’ idiot,” I say to my reflection in the mirror. “You fucked up.” I stare at the empty space in my room where her shit used to be. I came home from work last night and it was gone. Every. Single. Bit.

  “FUCK!” I roar, smashing the man in the mirror. I hate him so fucking much right now.

  Sitting at the foot of the bed, I run my fingers through my hair.

  It’s over before it started. And it’s all my fuckin’ fault.

  I ignore the door opening, not bothering to look up. A pair of sex kitten heels stop before me.

  “You are the biggest idiot in the world,” Ness tells me.

  “Well aware. Thanks. Now you can tell me where she is, so I can fix it.” I chance a look at her, hoping she’ll give in this time.

  “Nice try,” she smirks.

  “She’s worth it. Get the fuck out,” I tell her, pointing a lone finger to the door.

  “She’s worth more than that.”

  “Is he still wallowin’?” Brass asked, also coming in without knocking.

  I throw my hands in the air. No fuckin’ privacy. “What the fuck are you two doin’?”

  “That’s a ‘yes’. Get up,” Brass orders me. “We’ve got shit to do. Rook needs us to help set up at the bash.”

  “I’m not goin’.�
�

  “Mila will be there,” Ness says softly.

  “She is?” Brass asked, confused.

  “No,” she groans and slaps his chest. “I was saying that to get him to go, but you’ve ruined it. You big oaf.”

  “Ow,” he rubbed his chest. “Whatever, woman. Look,” he turns his attention on me. “We’ve got shit to do. She’ll be around at some point. Go shower. You’re ripe.”

  “Get the fuck out,” I dismiss them.

  _____________________

  Mila

  I sit at the table watching Dash carefully extract the prints he’s meticulously dusted and sectioned off on the cup. I can’t take my gaze off him as he works to lay the extraction tape over them, slowly peeling back the carbon copy I so desperately need.

  Once he pulled it off, I released the breath I didn’t realize I was holding, eyeing him carefully as he secures the print.

  “Done and done,” he tosses it over to me. I hold it up to the light, inspecting the key points.

  All five fingers.

  “Perfect,” I give him a pleased nod. “Transfer these to silicone pads, and I can wear them tonight. Did Ness roll the footage to determine which one we need?”

  “Yeah. Thumbprint is needed at the first checkpoint,” Ness answers, her heels clacking loudly on the floor as she joins us. Turning the chair backwards, she straddles it.

  Dash steeples his fingers like a much more handsome Mr. Burns, nodding his head the way he normally does when he starts analyzing pieces of information.

  “Correct. We have a full set of five in the instance they have more than one checkpoint. They may require different prints. When do you want them by?”

  “Seven o’clock? Tonight. Make multiple pads of the prints,” I tell him, “and modify a mock test to check them before we go in.”

  “When are we going in?” Ness questions, sounding excited.

  Adrenaline junkie.

  “Tonight. As soon as the pads are tested and confirmed, we’ll begin.”

  “So, we’re skipping the Winter Bash?”