by Diana Gardin
The other man snickers. “Motherfucking idiot.”
The Suit straightens, swinging the gun away from me and toward the two men. “I can get it!”
The oily one shakes his head, lifting his own gun. “You’re outta time.”
A soft, heat beside me reminds me of Naima’s presence before I even look at her. It’s a gentle ripple in the air, an awareness that tingles in my arms and legs. A heaviness pressing against my chest that won’t let up until she’s safe.
“No!” The desperation ringing out of the Suit’s voice lifts the hair on my arms. He sees the end of the line, and whatever that looks like for the bookie he owes scares the shit out of him.
“I can pay it!”
“And you will.” The greasy one sneers as he aims the gun at Tristan’s kneecap. “Right after you heal. You need a message. Boss’s orders. I’m here to send it.”
“Go.” My tone is low, but Naima listens. Next to me, she turns. “Back door. My bike. Go!”
She’s through the door at the same time the gun pops. The sound ricochets in my chest, snapping my teeth together with a painful jolt, and a primal need to flee coats me from head to toe.
I’ve never felt that urge before. I’ve always relied on fight, not flight. It’s my nature.
But right now, I need to be in the wind, and I need to get Naima somewhere safe.
I glance over my shoulder as I follow Naima through the door, just in time for the second pop of the gun, the abrupt disruption of Tristan’s scream, and the anxious voice of the second man saying, “What the hell? You were supposed to hurt him, not kill him!”
And then the greasy man’s eyes lift to mine, freezing me in place for less than a second before I’m through the door and running after Naima. Nudging her as we run, but always staying behind her. Pushing her to go, go go.
The oppressive, humid air presses on us from all sides when we bolt out into the dark night. Our fear pushes us to go faster, like the demons of hell are the ones chasing us.
And for all we know, they damn sure are.
Throwing Naima on the back of my Ninja motorcycle, I press the helmet on her head before I mount in front of her. More than anything, I want to enjoy the feel of her legs pressing against mine, the sensation of her front melting against my back. Because it feels really good.
Too good. Too sweet. Too luscious for me.
I don’t get sweetness in my life, never expected or wanted it. The unexpected twist of meeting Naima tonight has thrown my entire world off its axis.
But I don’t have time to enjoy it. I rev the engine and when her arms squeeze tight around my waist, I place one hand over hers and pull out of the parking lot.
Too fast.
I don’t have a destination, I just know I need to get as far away from the G-Ring as I can, and then I need to circle. I search for a tail in the mirror as I weave through the city, cruising through downtown and then heading toward the outskirts.
While we ride, the girl behind me keeps a tight, fast hold. She must be getting sore, we’ve been riding for about twenty minutes, but she doesn’t loosen her grip.
For a second, I just let myself pretend. I pretend this is a normal night, that I met her in a normal bar. That she’s not so far out of my league it’s insane. That the feel of her on the back of my bike is a sensation I get to keep, nurture, and repeat.
That we didn’t just witness a murder, and the pounding in my chest is only about a woman.
The wind whips around us, and it’s warm and loud. My hair blows wild across my face, but I focus on the outline of the cityscape in the distance. The night creeps in to meet the lights of uptown, two opposites attracting in a way that reminds me of Naima and me.
I pull over along a quiet stretch of road. Killing the engine, I glance over my shoulder at Naima. She relents on her death grip, her muscles relaxing as she releases me, slow and unsure, and removes the helmet from her head. Her wide eyes blink slowly, and the shaking in her hands draws my gaze.
“Shit.” Dismounting the Ninja, I pull her from the bike and pull her small, curved body against me. Her entire frame trembles against mine, and she takes a huge, shuddering breath.
“I…where are we?” She pulls back, glancing around us with wide eyes. The pale moonlight combined with the streetlamp beside us work together to silhouette her face, letting me see her clearly.
Her dark eyes focus on me again and I apply more pressure to her waist. “We’re nowhere. Just outside the city. Needed to make sure we weren’t followed. I’ll take you home, I just…” I shove a hand through my hair, taking in her stiff posture and the pools brimming at her eyes.
“You’re not okay, are you? Of course you’re not. Fuck, Naima…I’m so sorry.”
She glances up to the sky, and then back at me. The expression in her eyes rakes me over, ripping me apart inside.
How can she ever remember this night as anything more than the worst one of her life?
A quick shake of her head. “It’s not your fault, Ace. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And so were you.”
I bark out a frustrated laugh as my eyes roll toward the night. Because I’ve never been in the wrong place at the wrong time. The trouble that follows me around? I’ve always created it. I was doing something for myself, something important, when I started the G-ring. Now it’s tainted, dirty. Because it brought this woman into my life only to royally screw up hers.
Her hand squeezes mine, forcing my attention back to her. I freeze there, like she’s holding me hostage. Just with her attention.
“I don’t blame you for what happened back there.” Her words whisper, but they’re so intense and full of force I have to listen.
I nod, and then gesture toward the Harley. “I’m going to take you home. Where do you live?”
She tells me she attends the college whose campus is located just blocks from uptown. Not too far from the G-Ring’s warehouse. But a world apart from where I grew up, even though my mom’s trailer park is just on the other side of uptown. In a not-so-up-and-coming area.
She turns to mount the bike again, before she whirls back to face me. “What are you going to do?”
Her tone, soft yet demanding, gives me the impression the answer to my question matters to her.
I lift a shoulder and let it drop. “Don’t know yet. Right now, I’m going to get you home.”
Her eyes narrow. “And then what, Ace? Do you have anyone who can help…with what just happened? Maybe the police?”
The snort is out there in the air between us before I can stop it, but I manage not to roll my eyes. “No.”
She takes a step closer, studying my face like she’ll be able to read the answers there. “No, you don’t have anyone to lean on? Or no, the police won’t help you?”
Shaking my head, a wry smile tweaks my mouth. It’s probably a little sad, a little wistful. “No to both, angel.”
Her mouth opens again before she shuts it. “Then come with me.”
What does she think is going happen when she goes strolling back into her normal life with me tagging along?
I cock my head to one side. “I’m taking you home. And then I’m going back to my place. I need to think this out. Alone.”
Alone is what I’ve always been, expect for my uncle. He’ll hear about this as soon as I can get to him, and he might have an idea of who the Suit owes. The fact that a man is probably still dead inside my ring is kind of a problem, but knowing my uncle, all it’ll take is a phone call to have that cleaned up, too.
Just because he went straight after prison doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have contacts he can trust.
“We can call the police together.” Naima’s voice is low.
Shaking my head, my tone is harder than I mean it to be when I growl. “Hell, no. You realize my ring’s illegal right? That a dead body laying inside means I’m guilty no matter what?”
Now it’s her turn to pull agitated hands through her hair. “Well, what then?”
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Her thick, black lashes are spiked with the moisture clinging to them. Her voice trembles just the slightest bit, just enough to let me know she’s freaking out.
Finally. The girl held it together like a pro all night, and now she’s cracking.
Amen. It means she’s normal. And still so much tougher than any woman I’ve ever met.
Without thinking about the action, my hands cup her face, covering her velvet-soft cheeks. She stills, staring up at me while I look down at her. “Naima. This isn’t your problem, okay? I’m taking you home, and you’ll never see me again. You need to forget this night ever happened. Yeah?”
Her plump bottom lip is sucked into her mouth, her teeth scraping the skin I’m sure is so damn soft, her eyes darting around my face. I can’t help it. I’ll never see her again. My body moves on its own.
Leaning down, my lips collide with hers.
Nine
NAIMA
So this is what my parents meant all the times they told me the streets aren’t safe.
Standing here on the side of the road, my lips melting against the heat of Ace’s…it’s the definition of not safe.
His hands are warmth on my cheeks, his lips are fire on my mouth. I’ve kissed a lot of guys…because at parties what else is there to do? But this kiss is flying up past all the others to smash the number one spot on the list.
Ace is physical. It’s clear by the way his hands leave my face to caress my neck, stroke my shoulders, and slide down my arms. When he reaches my hands, he grabs on tight, linking our fingers together and pulling me flush against him. My chest, breasts heaving with the force of my breaths, melds to his ribcage. His hips press into my stomach, his arousal evident against me.
And the closeness steals my breath.
I don’t know how much time passes. A minute? Ten? Twenty? All I know is that he has the ability to create a new reality for me, right out of the one we’re actually living.
Our tongues tangle, a moan escaping my mouth that he swallows with a groan of his own. I feel raw, cut wide open by the kiss, and I don’t know if I’ll ever been the same.
When he pulls back, both our chests heave with the strength of the pull between us.
It feels like an actual loss when his lips leave mine.
A small smile breaks out across his full lips. “That felt…exactly like I thought it would.”
A bittersweet laugh chases my giant exhale. Because, looking into his muddy gaze that surprises me with its depth and intensity, I can see our ending.
After the kiss that felt so much like a beginning.
He takes a step back, but his eyes don’t lose their grip on me. “I have to take you home now, Naima.”
A swift bob of my head lets him know that I understand.
He has to take me home, and then I’ll probably never see him again.
After a night like this, it should be a relief. My experience at the G-Ring was nothing if not traumatizing. But instead of being flooded with thankfulness at the prospect of my familiar sorority house, I’m floored with an overwhelming sense of loss.
Where does it come from? The end of the excitement?
Or the impending loss of Ace?
He kills the engine at the end of the Kappa Theta Theta driveway. Climbing off the bike, I hand him his helmet and we both stare up at the ornate, Victorian house.
“Is this…a sorority house?” The amusement in Ace’s tone doesn’t escape me.
I offer him a wry smile. “Surprised? You just escorted home a sorority girl.”
Ace opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He stares at me for a moment, and then shakes his head. “You’ve rendered me speechless.”
Soft laughter bubbles up from inside me as I peer up at him.
“At least,” he continues. “I won’t worry about you so much tonight. Safety in numbers.”
He stares down at me, the depth of some unreadable feeling forming in his yes.
“I don’t want to let you go here...I want to see you walk inside your door.” Ace’s tone is firm.
Does he think I’ll argue? Amusement fills me, even as sadness tinges the moment.
I gesture, waving a loose hand, up the U-shaped drive. “Let’s go.”
He hesitates, and I’m about to ask him what he’s waiting for when he takes my hand and holds it in his much larger one. Tingles shoot through my arm, and I glance down at our grasp. Ace gazes down at it too, like he can’t believe what he’s just done. Warmth spreads through my belly.
Oh…hell.
“Let’s pretend,” he whispers.
And I nod, because I know exactly what he means.
“Let’s say…” We begin walking up the driveway. The sorority house is quiet, a few lights dotting the windows upstairs.
“…That we met in a regular place tonight. That you didn’t walk into my illegal gambling ring with another guy.”
Ace smiles down at me, and a soft laugh escapes my lips.
I slide him a sideways gaze. “I have no problems with the way we met. Suits us.”
Now it’s his turn to chuckle. “Yeah? Think so?”
“Oh, for sure. I mean, look at me.” I gesture down at myself, indicating my rebel attire. “And you.” I use my hand to demonstrate our likeness, all the black we wear. We do look as if we go together.
His tone is amused. He glances up the drive, where the house looms in its pristine grandeur. The two lanterns on either side of the impressive double front doors and the spotlights shining on the house from the manicured yard, give it an epic visage.
His eyes meet mine again. “A bird and a fish, baby.”
Baby. I’d usually want to punch a guy in the balls for calling me that. But when Ace says it…I want it to be true. I want to be his.
“You’ll be safe.” Ace stops walking just shy of the paved walkway leading up to the front staircase. “There’s no way for those men to connect you to me, or to the ring.”
My steps falter as I look up at him. “And what about you? Will you be safe?”
His grim expression is the only answer I need.
“My offer still stands. Just come inside with me. We can figure it all out.”
His smile is crooked, almost boyish. “Underneath that tough exterior…there’s a whole lot of sweetness. Stop hiding it.”
Quicker than I can register, his lips are on mine again. It’s too short, too light, not enough of anything. And then he’s gone, backing away from me. He twirls a finger around in front of him, indicating that I should turn away and go inside.
When I do, an ache settles in the most hollow part of my chest. It’s like a disease that spreads. But I force my feet to keep walking, my hands to pull out my keys, my fingers to unlock the door. Without glancing back at Ace, I step inside and close the door behind me.
Leaning my back against the cool wood, I close my eyes and sigh.
It’s been the best/worst night of my life.
Ten
ACE
My eyes are grainy, probably because it’s three a.m. and I still haven’t slept yet. After we walk through the empty parking lot, I pull out my key to open the door.
Carson, my uncle, and I had done a lap around the warehouse in his car to make sure no one was waiting there for me before we parked beside the back door.
Walking down the long hallway, the hairs on the back of my neck rise and stiffen, creating a sense of eerie urgency in my blood. Something isn’t right.
That same something hasn’t been right since the Suit walked back into the Ring with a pistol in his hand, but now the feeling chokes me, overwhelms me, covers me in a blanket of unease from head to toe.
I walk faster, opening the door at the other end of the hallway, the one that leads to the wide-open space where the Ring is held. Carson follows me, his presence helping to beat back the panic swelling in my mind.
I flick on the light, and shock slams into me like a crushing left tackle.
The Suit’s body is gone.
; I spin around in a slow circle, trying to locate the dead man I know should be lying on the floor. “What the hell?”
“Where is he?” Puzzlement seeps out of Carson’s tone as he steps up beside me. Mirroring my motions, he scans the room the same way I’m doing.
I don’t get it. The feeling of discomfort, of wrongness still crawls over me like a swarm of ants. I can almost feel the little legs brushing over my skin, the crazy urge to swat at myself almost overpowering.
“I don’t get it. He was here. Why would they clean up after themselves instead of coming after me?” My voice is higher than normal, a note of panic threading with the exhaustion just beneath the surface.
It doesn’t make sense. They wouldn’t take the body and clean up the blood. As soon as they killed a man on my turf, it became my problem. Not theirs.
And yet…I pivot in a slow circle again, my mouth hanging open. Scrubbing a hand across my stubbled jaw, I blink several times.
Still no body.
Sinking onto one of the leather couches, I drop my head in my hands. The long day, the night of working plus meeting Naima, and the traumatic experience that followed…it’s all catching up with me now. All at once.
More than I can handle.
I hear Carson make one more lap around the room, searching more carefully. But I know it deep down inside me: he’s not going to find a dead body stuffed in a cabinet or under a table. It isn’t here.
The Suit’s gone.
Now the only question is: where did he go?
Did he get up and walk out of here on his own? If so, I have to worry about him coming back to finish the botched robbery. He still owes that loan shark.
But if that were the case, there’d be blood everywhere. He was shot, I heard it myself and saw him go down.
“What the hell? You weren’t supposed to kill him.”
And if not? It means the people who killed him moved his body. The loan shark’s thugs. Who is he? Why would his men take the body with them?