by Diana Gardin
Noah deserved that thank-you. He proved tonight that he really does care about me, that he’s not completely selfish.
I end the call and stand up, stretching my arms above my head. I wander over to the window and stand looking out at the uptown Charlotte skyline. Against the inky backdrop of the nighttime sky, it’s epic. I’ll be a city girl forever. Even at a time like this, where the underbelly of the city is glowing brighter than the beauty, I know that this is where I belong.
Spotting my boots lying by the front door, I pad over and pull them on. Ace isn’t back yet, so I’ll just head down to the bar to check on him.
I close the door tightly behind me and am down to the lobby level in seconds. Once I’m out on the street, I hustle toward the alley that Ace and I took to the Corner’s back door earlier tonight. Once inside the building, I look right and left. Left leads out to the bar, and right leads…to the restroom? The need is suddenly an issue.
I move down the hall until I reach the first door. The kitchen.
Nope. No bathroom in there.
Continuing, the next door is an office. The door is slightly ajar, and I realize there isn’t anything else along this hallway. The bathrooms must be back in the bar, maybe on the other side than the hallway I’m now standing in. I’m turning to move back down the hall when something catches my eye just beyond the cracked office door. My feet move automatically, even as my body is not-so-patiently nudging me to find a restroom.
The wooden door squeaks as I press forward, peeking inside. The room isn’t huge. There’s a desk with a closed laptop sitting on it. My first thought is about how organized Carson is. There are two black leather chairs, one on either side of the desk. There isn’t much else, but my eyes keep drifting past the desk, past the chairs, to the floor.
The hardwood floor, where a dead body lies motionless.
Staring up at me.
Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to earlier in the night when I was attacked. My response is automatic, and painfully girly. I open my mouth and start to scream.
Twenty-One
ACE
I’ve just crossed the threshold into the bar when I spot him: there’s a man pacing in front of the row of barstools.
He’s straight-laced in some gray slacks and a striped shirt, and something about his face strums a chord of familiarity in me.
He turns toward the bar, his eyes landing on Carson, who’s pouring a drink for a customer.
Creeping closer, I hear the guy demand my uncle’s attention. Carson is calm about it, sparing him a glance before finishing the drink. After he slides the highball glass to the man waiting for it, he turns his attention to the guy who has the word pissed written all over his face.
I slide up behind the man just in case Carson needs me.
“What can I do for you?” Carson gives the guy a wary eye from his loafers up to his hair gel.
“You finally ready to talk to me? You can tell me where my brother is. He’s been missing since last week, and someone told me today that I should check in here.”
The man folds his arms across his chest, and my eyes grow wide as I stare at Carson. The word “Marcus?” falls silently from my lips, and his pull thin.
Carson leans on the bar. “Yeah? Who told you that? And what’s your brother’s name?”
The man imitates Carson’s stance, his voice dropping lower. “His name is Marcus Wahl.”
Carson’s refusing to glance at me, and I know he’s trying to keep me out of it. He wants to handle him, be the protector for me he’s always been. He texted me because he wanted me to hear what the man had to say, but he doesn’t want me to step in. But this is my hole, not his, and there’s no way I’m letting him dig himself in any deeper.
“I’m Ace.” I step forward, beside the guy, and place both of my hands on the bar. “And I think I’m the person you’re looking for.”
The guy’s eyes narrow as his gaze slides over me, and I can see the intent there. His thoughts are clear: not worth my time.
Appearances can be deceiving. But I know something about what he’s looking for, so he’d better listen.
“Your brother Marcus gambled in my ring a couple of times in the last few weeks. The last time I saw him there was last Friday night. After hours, he tried to come in and rob me. He was desperate. Did you see any of that in him recently?”
The man’s face goes pale. He sucks in a deep breath through his nose before puffing the air back out of his mouth, and he steps back from me. The answer is clear.
“Yeah, shit. He tried to rob you? I knew he was in deep with a guy, that he owed a lot of money. But I never thought…” He runs a hand through his stiff hair, looking sick. “Where is he now?”
I need to ignore that question for a minute because I need mine answered first. “Do you know who your brother owed money to?”
He opens his mouth to speak, to give me the information I need, when a scream that shakes me to the bone reverberates through the bar.
The few patrons inside glance up at us, confused, but I’m already whirling and rushing for the door leading to the back.
It’s Naima who’s screaming, and my heart crashes against my ribs at the thought of what could be making her sound so terrified.
Following the sound straight to Carson’s office at the end of the back hallway, I find her standing just inside the door. I spin her around to face me, her black hair whipping around her cheeks as she meets my gaze. She’s still screaming, so I give her shoulders a little shake and the sound trails off.
“Baby…talk to me! What’s wrong?”
I evaluate her in a quick scan, dropping my eyes from her perfect face to her torso, down her legs and back up again, trying to discover where she’s been hurt, and then my eyes fly around in a wild chase to figure out who’s hurt her.
When they land on the body lying still on the floor, everything becomes so terribly clear.
“Damn—”
Naima’s heaving, her breathing coming too shallow, and I know this has pushed her over the edge. I glance at the body again, and see that it’s Marcus, the man we saw shot days ago, laying there.
What. The. Hell?
How is that even possible? I’m no biologist, but shouldn’t the body be…decaying or something by now?
I put my arm around Naima’s shoulders and lead her out of the office. We meet Carson in the hallway and seeing him sends a jolt of guilt swarming through me.
There’s a body…in his office. The body of a man I’ve been looking for…wondering about…for days. The fact that I’ve brought this war to his own personal turf now isn’t lost on me. Carson doesn’t deserve to have dead bodies popping up in his office.
Oily tendrils of mistrust thread their way through me, settling in a haze around my uncle. The only person in the world I can trust.
“What happened?” His voice isn’t his usually calm tone, but then again Naima’s screams would give anyone a heart attack.
My eyes not meeting his, I jerk my head toward his office. “Take a look.”
Naima’s head rests against my chest, and she’s gone scary-still, but I can’t get her out of here yet. I need to see Carson’s reaction. The man’s opinion means everything to me.
His muttered curse reaches my ears, and he spins around to face me once more. The confusion on his face jars me, and God, I don’t know anything anymore. How could my life have gotten so messed up in a matter of a week?
“This is all my fault, Uncle C.” I keep my words low, one hand going up to stroke Naima’s head.
His eyes widen, bewilderment showing up in his expression. “This isn’t even a little bit your fault, man. We need to call the cops. This…it’s out of our hands.”
My heartbeat kicks up again. “They’re going to blame you, Carson.”
He shrugs. “They’ll figure out the truth.” He stares at me, stark realization dawning in his expression. “Ace…you know I don’t know anything about this, right?”
My che
st hurts. The tightness there just keeps growing and growing, and I’m so done with this day I can’t stand it anymore. I don’t answer him, just lead Naima through the bar and back to my condo because I want to keep her away from the mayhem that’s about to crash down all around this place.
Crash down all around me.
I was expecting the knock much sooner, but it doesn’t come until over three hours later.
I open the door to find a weary-looking Carson standing in the hall. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen him this stressed-out and tired, and a pang of guilt hits me. Right before the mistrust turns in my stomach like a monkey wrench, twisting the awful emotion further into my soul.
“Can I come in?”
I glance back toward the bedroom door, picturing the sleeping form of Naima, curled into a ball on my bed. She’s out; been asleep for half an hour, and I gesture Carson into the kitchen through the foyer.
“You’re here.” It’s an obvious statement, but it means that he’s literally here, and not in police custody.
Carson gets it. Nodding, he squeezes both hands against the back of his neck and closes his eyes. “Been questioned. Called my lawyer. Other than them finding the body in the bar, there’s nothing that tells them I’m the one who killed him. And—”
He places a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. “I’m gonna be just fine, Ace. Whoever put that body in my bar knew it would mess with you, knock you off your game. Don’t let it happen.”
I drink him in, holding his gaze. I trust Carson. He’s the guy that, when he found one of my mom’s boyfriends beating on me when I was eight, laid the dude flat out on the trailer floor, unconscious. And then he made my mom promise never to leave me alone with one of her men again. And he’s the guy that helped me roll her into bed after a bender left her nearly lifeless. And he’s the guy who cheered me on at my football games, until I left the sport behind to focus on school and business. He’s the only one, the only adult in my life who ever gave me guidance, and it was before he was even old enough to guide me.
He’s my blood, my protector, my confidante. And so, yeah, I trust him with my life. I hate that I’ve brought this mess into his.
“Yeah. I know.”
He studies me, like he’s making sure I’ve got my head together in spite of all the crazy shit surrounding me right now.
“C…Marcus’ brother…”
Carson shakes his head. “Nah. Couldn’t get anything else out of him after…after. Once he saw Marcus he fell apart.”
Sighing, I roll my neck. It was a lead that’s temporarily cut off now because of the body. Whoever planted it there knew exactly what he was doing. For the first time since this all started, I feel the air being sucked from my lungs. I’m drowning, sinking fast in this mess, and I’m in over my head.
I nod toward the door. “I’m gonna take her back to campus in the morning, and then I’ll track him down. I need to know what he knows, Uncle C. I’m sick of this shark being two steps ahead of me.”
Carson looks thoughtful. Stroking the rough hair on his chin, he zeroes in on me. “I think you need to open the G-Ring tomorrow night.”
“Say what?”
The expression on his face is intense. “I’m serious. We surround you with protection, of course. I’m not sending you in there alone. But it might be the thing to draw the snake out of his hole. Maybe instead of sending his guys, when word gets around you’re hosting some games, he’ll come to you himself.”
It’s a solid plan. Well, it’s risky as hell, but it’s the only plan we’ve got. And I’ve never run away from a fight before. Not gonna start now.
“Yeah.” I nod. “Looks like it’s going down at the Ring tomorrow night.”
Carson looks serious. “And I’m gonna be there. This ends tomorrow.”
I contemplate, picturing what it’ll be like to finally find the person who started this whole nightmare. What it’ll be like to end this fiasco once and for all.
“Tomorrow.”
Twenty-Two
NAIMA
It’s dark. My body feels heavy, spent. As I blink in the inky blackness around me, every memory from the previous day creeps in, and my body jerks and recoils.
“Easy.” Ace’s deep voice acts like a balm, soothing me. I settle into him, and his arms go around me. In them, I’m secure. I sigh.
“What time is it?” I don’t even recognize my own voice. It’s still scratchy from the injury to my neck, and it hurts like hell to use it. The screaming didn’t help, either.
Warm lips brush against my neck as he answers, and I shiver in spite of the battered state I’m in. “Late. Or early. Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
I turn in his arms, facing him in the darkness. I can just make out the outline of his face, and it’s such a welcome sight.
I fell asleep earlier after he urged me into bed. I knew I was unraveling, losing my tenuous grip on my emotions, so I listened and lay down in the center of his king-sized platform mattress. It didn’t take me long to fall asleep in the delicious warmth and comfort, but I kept hearing snatches of conversation between him and Carson in the other room while I drifted in and out of consciousness.
As I wake up to Ace, the overwhelming feeling of comfort sweeps over my skin. I felt it in his condo from the moment that I arrived, but it’s stronger, more vivid and vibrant now. Whenever I’ve stayed somewhere that’s not home, that isn’t my own bed, I awake feeling like a bird fallen out of its nest. I’ve shared so much with Ace in a short amount of time, but what we’ve been through together has packed a serious punch.
My heart is full, a beating bundle of emotion. Being here with him amplifies everything I’m feeling inside, forcing what I’m experiencing to grow much faster than it ordinarily would.
I rest a hand on his cheek. “You’re just coming to bed?”
He nods, and lifting my hand, kisses the inside of my wrist. “Yeah.”
“That…dead guy? That was him, wasn’t it? The one that got shot that night?” I shudder as the image flickers through my mind.
One of his hands rests on my hip, and he squeezes just a little. “Yeah.”
Silence stretches between us. I’m waiting for him to say more; he’s holding back.
“Ace.”
His hand brushes with gentle pressure from my hip, up to my waist, and back down again. He repeats this motion, this time meeting the skin under my shirt. The fabric rides up on my side. His palm is so warm, so perfect against me that I scoot just a little bit closer. A moth dancing dangerously close to that tiny, flickering blaze of light.
“I’m taking you to campus in the morning. And I’m going to send Carson to pick you up after. Okay? This will all be over by tomorrow night.”
His words sound…wrong. They send a chill of foreboding rushing through my body, and I shake my head in the darkness. “I want to stay with you.”
He leans forward, brushing his nose against mine. “You’re with me right now.”
“I know, but—”
His lips take me, and the words I was going to say are lost somewhere in his mouth. His is wet, warm, and everything I need it to be in that moment. He kisses me like he owns me, and maybe he does.
His hand creeps up my side, under my shirt, stopping just under the curve of my breast. I push myself into him, because I want his hands there. I want them everywhere. He cups me, his thumb brushing against my nipple. A zing of electricity thrums through my blood, and I twist in his arms, trying to get closer, closer, closer.
Nothing we do tonight is going to erase the horror of the last few days. But it will make me feel normal for as long as it lasts, and I’m desperate for that normalcy.
More than that, though? There’s a calm voice inside my head that tells me this is right. That this is the man I’ve been waiting for, even though I never knew I was waiting for any particular reason at all. It whispers Ace’s name as I struggle to plaster my body against his.
Throwing caution to the win
d, I moan. “Touch me, Ace. Everywhere.”
There’s a rough sound in the back of his throat and he flips me onto my back, hovering above me on his forearms. Leaning down, he kisses me again, punishing my mouth with his as his body lowers onto mine.
“Ace, I can’t…I need…” My body burns bright, humming with energy and heat. But not as bright as my heart, which swells until a cardiac event seems like a real possibility.
Every touch of his hands, his mouth, his tongue…they make me feel like the world isn’t ending. He makes me feel secure even though I know we’re both in a ton of trouble.
Pulling back from me just enough so that he can stare into my eyes, his glint softly.
“What do you want, angel?”
It’s a question no guy has ever asked me. I’ve always made it known, but for one of them to ask? He’s burrowing into my heart with every moment I spend with him, and I’m almost more scared of that than of the imminent danger from an outside source.
“You.” It’s a hoarse whisper, but I know he hears it. “Every piece you have to give.”
It’s permission. It’s a request. And it’s everything he needs to turn my world upside down in a completely different, soul-crushing way.
The intensity in his eyes flares, visible even in the dim light of the bedroom, and the precision with which he removes his t-shirt from over my head makes my heartbeat quicken in my chest. He stares down at me, my rapid breathing causing my breasts to rise and fall. There’s no hesitation in me, and Ace must read that certainty in my expression. Slowly, he draws a finger across my collarbone, between my cleavage, all the way down my stomach. My eyes never leave his, even when his gaze drops from mine to watch the trail he blazes with his hand. He traces my hipbone before reaching my slit and finding my dripping with desire for him.
“Goddamn,” he breathes. “You’re so perfect.”
They’re the last words I remember him saying before his mouth follows his finger and his name falls from my lips in a moan.