by Kelsie Rae
Reggie: At the diner. Eating eggs. No threats.
Rubbing my hand across my face, I head to the bedroom in hopes of getting some sleep when a loud knock pounds against my door.
With furrowed brows, I open it to see Stefan’s ghostly complexion.
“What is it?”
“Regina’s missing.”
My fingers dig into the doorjamb in hopes of it keeping me grounded as I see the remorse shining in his eyes. There’s no way. We talked. I told her she needed to stay home. This isn’t possible. She has to be here somewhere. We just need to look.
“What do you mean she’s missing?” I argue. “She’s been here the whole night.”
With a shake of his head, an apologetic Stefan continues, “No, sir. She snuck out. I checked the GPS on her phone, but it only led me down the block before I found her cell in the bushes. She’s gone.”
She disobeyed my orders. I’m terrified. Pissed. Frustrated. And so many other emotions I can’t even comprehend them all.
What the hell were you thinking, Regina?
“Fuck!” I yell as I tug on the roots of my hair with so much force I’m sure they’ll fall out in seconds. I have to fix this. Storming out of my room in nothing but a pair of black slacks, I head down the hall to the security room. The door is usually locked as a precaution, but Lou must already be aware of the situation because the door is propped open, ready for my entrance. Computer keyboard in hand, Lou’s prepped and ready to help.
“Pull up the feed from tonight. I want to see everything,” I order.
“Yes, sir.” Lou starts tapping away until he finds what I’m looking for and starts displaying the videos on the screens that line the walls.
When I see Regina hidden in the shadows on one of the televisions, I point to it. “There.” Lou resumes his typing, blowing up the video and playing it in slow motion.
I watch as my baby sister sneaks out the front door without a backward glance before moseying down the driveway then turning left. That’s it. That’s all I’m given.
“Do we have any footage of where we found her phone?” I grit out. My tone is like steel.
Clearing his throat, Lou shakes his head. “Sorry Boss, but we don’t have shit. We’ll find something, though. I’m going to keep looking.”
I open my mouth to voice another question when I hear the slamming of heavy footsteps in the hallway coming closer.
Diece appears in the doorway, almost out of breath as he says, “Your office phone is ringing.”
With sweaty palms, I sprint to my office on the first floor, taking the stairs two at a time before throwing open the door and answering the call.
“Yeah?” Quietly, I calm my breathing as I wait for a response. There are only a handful of people who know this number, and Regina’s one of them.
“Kingston?” a feminine voice crackles through the speaker, but it sounds forced.
A second ticks by as I try to register who I’m talking to.
“Ace?”
She’s not who I was expecting, but something feels off.
“Um. Yeah. Yeah, it’s me.”
Her labored response sets off the warning bells in my head.
“What’s wrong?”
Silence.
“Ace, talk to me.”
If it were anyone else on the other end of the line, I’d hang up and go searching for my sister, but it’s Ace. And she doesn’t sound right. My senses are on high alert, knowing something is wrong.
“I didn’t know who else to call,” she confides.
“Talk to me. Now.”
I hear a soft sniffle before her raspy voice echoes through the speaker. “One of Burlone’s men came to see me—”
“What’d he do?” I cut her off because the possibilities are made of nightmares. I need to find out how much she knows, and who’s going to pay for hurting her. This call pushes me over the edge, and my grip tightens against the phone until I’m sure the plastic will crack from the pressure. My chest tightens as I wait for her response. The sooner I have names, the sooner I can slice their skin from their pathetic bodies. Inch. By inch.
She sniffs again but doesn’t reply.
I check the time on my wristwatch and keep my tone even as I ask, “Where are you, Ace? I’m going to send someone to come get you.”
With a soft whimper, she says, “Yeah. Um...I think that might be good. I’m uh, I’m at the liquor store by my apartment. On the corner of—”
“I know the one,” I interrupt. “Be there in ten.”
Hanging up the phone, I bark my orders to Diece who seems to have followed me.
“Where the hell’s Reggie?”
I don’t know why I bother to ask; I already know the answer.
D forces a swallow. “His phone is dead.”
“Fuck!” I scream, finally snapping and hitting my fist against the desk. Reggie’s dead. I have no doubt in my mind, though it makes my stomach churn to think about it. Death might be a relatively common occurrence in my world, but it doesn’t get any easier when it’s my own family.
Reggie. Ace. Regina. What started out as a successful night just turned catastrophic, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to carry the weight of it all. Then I remember who I am.
I’m the only one who can.
“Send someone to track him down with the GPS on his phone. If they find a body, have them call in the clean-up crew.” He nods as I continue, “And I need you to go pick up Ace. Now.”
A brief rap of his knuckles against my desk is all I get before he disappears down the hallway and to the garage. How the hell did everything get so screwed up?
And how am I going to fix it all?
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Kingston
I feel like this night is never going to end. There are so many questions and not enough answers. With my elbows on the desk, I rest my head in my hands, scouring my memory for any information I might have to Regina’s whereabouts when my office phone rings. Looking at the screen, I can see I’m being paged from the security room. Answering it, I hear Lou’s voice echo through the speaker in my office.
“Hey, Boss?”
“Yeah?”
“D’s back with your girl.”
My girl. I open my mouth to deny it but finally accept the truth. If the knots in my stomach are anything to go by, then yeah. I’m going to say that she’s my girl. I just need to convince her of that.
“She looks pretty bad, Boss. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”
Swallowing the bile as it burns down my throat, I rub my face roughly.
“Thanks for the update. Any news on Regina?”
A heavy silence is all I get as a response before Lou hesitantly answers me. “Not yet. But we’ll find her.”
“Is there a possibility that she left her phone there for a reason? That she didn’t want to be followed? I mean…it’s possible, right?” Stefan’s voice echoes through the phone, and I assume they’ve put the call on speaker. He’s been working as diligently as Lou to find Regina, but I’m afraid I already know the answer.
“It’s possible,” I admit. “But I think the odds are stacked against us, considering how we screwed up Burlone’s plans last night. Keep looking. And keep me updated. I need to deal with Ace right now.”
A couple of, “Yes, sirs,” echo throughout the room before the line goes dead.
Standing from my chair, I head in the direction of the garage when I see a girl who looks nothing like the one I’ve grown accustomed to seeing. With her arm cradled to her chest, she whimpers as soon as she sees me.
“Hey.” A pitiful smile accompanies her weak voice as she limps closer with D by her side. She looks like she got ran over by a fucking truck. A fat lip that’s begging for some ice, dried blood crusted beneath her nose, and two swollen eyes that are nearly swallowed whole from the dark purple bruising surrounding them.
I’ve seen a lot of shit in my life, but nothing has crippled me the way the broken girl in f
ront of me has.
Rushing toward her, I wrap my arm around her shoulders then guide her down the hall and to the couch in the family room. Without protest, she follows before collapsing onto the cushions. She looks so tiny. So frail. My knees hit the ground so I can take a closer look.
As gently as I can, I touch each side of her face to examine the damage. My blood boils at the sight.
“You sure this was Burlone’s men?” I grit out.
Her chest rises and falls slowly as a single tear slides down her cheek. “Yeah. You were right, Kingston. I messed with the wrong guy. I’m so sorry.”
Sorry? She’s apologizing?
I press a gentle kiss to her forehead then move to sit beside her on the couch. Pulling her into my lap, I hold her close and rock her back and forth. Back and forth. She melts into me a little more with each movement.
“Shh,…it’s okay, Ace. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do, though,” she whimpers. “I didn’t know who to call. You didn’t sign up for this. You have no obligation to help me, yet here I am.” Raising her arms, she motions to the family room of my estate. A place that very few people have ever really been invited into.
“All I wanted was to take something from him the way he took something from me. But, instead…,”—she shudders in my arms—“all I won was a living nightmare I’ll never be able to erase.”
My hands tighten around her tiny waist, and it takes everything in me to loosen them. She doesn’t need to see Dark King right now. She needs the tender King. The one only she’s ever been privy to.
“You’re right,” I offer. “I didn’t sign up for this. Neither of us did, yet you fell into my lap anyway, and I wouldn’t change it. Listen to me, Ace.” Carefully, I raise her chin with the pad of my forefinger until I have her full attention. Or at least, as much as she can give me when her entire face is smashed in. I grit my teeth, but push my anger aside and focus on how I can harness it. “You’re mine now. Do you know what that means?”
She shakes her head.
“It means I’m going to burn every single one of them for what they did to you. And I’m not going to let you go.”
The feel of a cold compress is pressed against my bare shoulder. Diece is hovering over us like a mother hen as I take the offered ice pack and give him a nod of thanks.
He returns it with one of his own before addressing the wounded girl in my arms. “Hey, Ace?”
“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling away from me then looking up at D.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think we need to take a look at that hand.”
I had almost forgotten about the way she cradled it against her, and I feel like an ass for not addressing it sooner. Lowering my head to get a better look, I gently wrap my thumb and forefinger around her wrist then pull it away from her protective embrace. Blood drips down her elbow, staining the black cocktail dress covering her tiny frame.
“Shit, Ace. What the hell happened?”
A fresh wave of guilt hits me harder than a sledgehammer. I should’ve been there for her. I should’ve protected her.
“It’s just glass,” she murmurs. Her whole body tenses at my examination.
Glancing up at D, I don’t need to utter a word before he offers, “I’ll go get the first-aid kit.” We have doctors for this shit, but we both know that Ace needs me right now, not some stranger.
With a hesitant smile, Ace whispers, “Thanks, Diece.”
“Anytime.” He reappears seconds later with a decent sized plastic tote we use for quick fixes. Anything other than surgery can be handled in-house, and Ace is about to learn that firsthand.
“Thanks, D. Will you go check on Regina’s situation?” I need some privacy with Ace. I need to know she’s going to be okay. Physically and emotionally.
“Sure thing, King.” He leaves without a backward glance.
Turning to Ace, I can almost see her soul losing its luster as she tries to process her experience. There will be time for that later. Right now, she needs a distraction before I lose her to the darkness. She needs the suffocating weight to be lifted for a few minutes, and I need to help her carry it. I gently slide her off my lap and back onto the couch before moving to kneel in front of her. Opening the kit, I give her my best doctor impression with a side of cocky superhero.
“Usually, I let the doc take care of these things, but I’m feeling generous tonight.”
With a quirked brow, she returns, “Is that right?”
“Sure is.” I start rifling through the bandages, gauze, and antiseptic in search of some tweezers. When I find them, I set them aside then grab a few other things we’ll be needing. Needle. Thread. A sterile syringe and a vial of lidocaine to numb the skin, along with a few other items. Ace’s face is filled with fascination as she watches my every move, and I know I’ve officially distracted her. Epic meltdown averted. For now, anyway. There will be time to process things later.
“Have you done this before?” The awe is clear in her tone.
“Maybe a time or two.”
“Really?”
I laugh, dryly. “I learned how to give stitches by the time I was nine and could feel the difference between a sprain and a break long before that.”
“Really? I just…I can’t imagine that kind of life.”
“Says the girl who learned how to count cards when she was…twelve?”
Pursing her lips, she corrects me, “Ten. But that was mainly to pass the time. This? This is crazy, Kingston.” It seems our conversation is distracting her from the fact that she got the shit kicked out of her, and I’m happy to see the real Ace come back to the surface.
“Nah, just a part of life. Now, bring your hand over here. I want to see it better in the light.”
She does as I ask, placing her hand palm up in mine as I take a look at the damage. The wound is almost three inches long and looks angry as hell, surrounded by inflamed, red skin. The bravest of men would be feeling a slice like this. A swell of pride spreads throughout my chest for being able to claim Ace as mine.
“Damn, Ace. This is a good one.”
With her mouth tilted up on one side, an amused expression paints her face.
“A good one?”
“Yeah. Growing up, we’d always refer to our injuries on some fucked-up scale. That’s nothing, was a scratch or a bruise. Something that didn’t even deem the attention of bringing it up in the first place, and if you did, you’d get shit for days. But a good one means it’s likely going to scar and requires stitches or a cast. This,”—I gesture to her hand—“is a good one, Ace.” Leaning closer, I place a soft kiss against her busted lip and nose, being careful not to hurt her.
“So are these.”
She looks so vulnerable right now with my big hand cradling her bruised face, and her big doe eyes peeking up at me. I’d do anything to take away her pain. To steal the burden of her recovery and carry it by myself. But the only thing I can do is hold her and tell her it’s going to be okay. I just wish I knew if it was the truth or not.
“Thank you, King.” Her voice is nothing but a whisper, quiet enough that it could easily get lost in the intimate ambiance if I hadn’t been paying attention.
With a brush of my fingers against the silky skin on her forearm, I pull her closer.
“Anytime, Ace. Now let’s fix this hand.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kingston
After digging into the laceration in search of any more glass then sewing it up, I wrap her injured hand with some clean gauze. Those same vulnerable eyes watch every meticulous movement in a daze as if she’s waiting to snap out of a dream. Unfortunately, this is life. My life. And she just got thrown into the middle of it. The remorse that accompanies this fact is crippling.
Once I’m finished, I move to sit next to her on the couch once again, pulling her back onto my lap and cradling her injured hand, rubbing my thumb along the fresh bandage.
“I’m so sorry, Ace.”
&nb
sp; Peeking up at me and looking confused, she whispers, “Why?”
“That I didn’t protect you. That you were dragged into this. That I asked you to give me information. Everything.” Part of me wants to add that I would take it all back if I could, but I’m too selfish. She’d call me out for lying, anyway.
“This,”––she motions to her face––“had nothing to do with you. It was my fault because I was stupid enough to cross Burlone. And if I had never met you, I would’ve had no one to turn to when I needed them most. I would’ve been on my own, and it gets pretty lonely not being able to rely on anyone.”
Wrapping my arm around her, I lean in and gently press my lips to hers.
“Yeah. It does. But you don’t have to feel that way anymore, Ace.”
With her eyes still closed from our kiss, she murmurs, “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying I want you. And I promise that I’m going to take care of this.”
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s already done.” Again, I brush my mouth against hers when the sound of footsteps distracts me.
“Boss?” D calls from down the hallway.
I answer as he rounds the corner. “Yeah?”
Stepping into the room with his hands at his sides, he looks at Ace who’s huddled against me with her palms cradled in her lap.
“Can we talk for a second?” In private. He doesn’t say the last part, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hear his message loud and clear.
As gently as I can, and without jostling Ace too much, I slide out from between her and the couch, making sure she’s comfortable before I stand to my full height.
“Hey, Ace. I need to go have a chat with D. You gonna be okay here?”
“Yeah. Of course.” Lying back, she rests her head against the armrest. “Are you okay if I stay? I mean…I can go if you need me to.”