G-RING: A Bad Boy College Romance

by Diana Gardin

  As soon as I’m seated, a young, high-school-aged waitress appears beside us. “What can I get for you?” She points her question at me, which leads me to believe Detective Monahan has already ordered.

  “Just a coffee, please. Black.”

  She smiles, trying to catch my eye, but I focus on the serious brown gaze of the detective sitting across from me. He’s not young and he’s not old, maybe in his early forties. His has a full head of black hair and a weathered face, most likely from the stress of the job he does day in and day out. But there’s a sharpness to his features, an intelligence that’s obvious to the prying eye.

  He steeples his fingers together on top of the table. Looking curious, he lifts a brow. “What can I help you with today, Ace?”

  I lean forward. “I can help you catch your killer. And in exchange, I want your word that you’ll leave my uncle alone.”

  His eyebrow rises higher. “That’s all? And how the hell would you be able to help me? You don’t have anything to do with it, right Ace?” His eyes narrow in on my face.

  I don’t flinch or waiver. “What I’m about to tell you needs to be privileged information, or I’m not saying a word. And if I give it to you, I want your word that I won’t b prosecuted. I haven’t hurt anyone; that I can promise you. I can sign anything you want saying so.”

  The detective mimics my position, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. “Off the record. I’m not looking to prosecute you, Ace. I want the person who murdered a man and left the body in your uncle’s bar. I would really love for the murderer not to be your uncle. If you can help me connect the dots, I’m all for it. But you need to help me out here. Explain to me how you can help me do that.”

  I evaluate him, staring into his eyes. I’ve always prided myself on being able to read people. It’s a skill I’ve acquired over time, mostly because of my shitty upbringing. I know who wants to take me down and hurt me for the fun of it, who has ulterior motives and is out for themselves, and who is actually genuine and wants to get the job done. My opinion of Monahan?

  He’s the latter.

  Without blinking, I lay my cards on the table. “I’m a business owner here in the uptown area. And my business? I run a casino.”

  There’s a dryness in Monahan’s tone. “You don’t appear to be a Native American to me. I’m guessing this so-called casino isn’t held on an Indian reservation, and isn’t licensed?”

  I don’t blink. “Your guess would be correct.”

  I lean back, studying me. “And this is how you came into contact with my victim?”

  I tell him how I first met Marcus, and what happened the last night I saw him alive.

  “I think that if I open the G-Ring tonight, the shark that Marcus owed will show. He wants that money, and he wants me, the only witness, dead. I’m the link you need to bring him down.”

  Silence blankets the table. Detective Monahan steeples his hands again, drumming his index fingers together, all the while staring at me.

  “We’ll give you immunity, but your little ring is shut down after tonight for good.”

  “That’s exactly what I want. I’m looking for a new line of work, anyway.”

  He snorts. “I bet you are.”

  “So we have a deal?”

  “We’ll have eyes and ears with you tonight at your location. We have a deal.” Monahan nods.

  I take a single sip of the coffee the waitress brought back moments ago, and then push up from the booth.

  My next stop? Kevin and Counts. We have work to do to prepare for tonight.

  Twenty-Five

  ACE

  “You sure this will work?”

  Counts, Kevin, and I stare up at the tiny, nondescript camera lens hidden in the EXIT sign on the door leading to the back hallway in the warehouse that houses the G-Ring.

  “Damn right it will.” Kevin sounds annoyed that I’d even question his skills.

  “Sound, too? If I’m gonna have enough to nail this guy, I need there to be sound.”

  My discussion with Detective Monahan earlier today is ever-present in my mind. It seems Marcus isn’t the only one running scared from the newcomer, and he’s breaking all kinds of laws with blatant disregard for the police and the unspoken rules of the underground. I agreed to work with the cops because it’s the best thing for my future. Sure, I’ll have to give up the Ring, but this whole mess will be over. And if I’m living clean, I can go on to get the business degree I’ve always wanted. Become a legitimate businessman.

  Maybe even become good enough to be with Naima.

  Being with her last night made everything so much clearer. She’s the kind of girl guys wait their whole lives to meet, and I’m lucky enough to have crossed paths with her at this point in my life.

  That gives me time, to clean up and earn her. And then I’m going to keep her.

  It’s time to get my shit together.

  I have enough money put away to put myself through college, and I’ll help Carson manage the bar until I graduate. I’m going to do whatever it takes to keep Naima by my side.

  “Sound, too,” confirms Kevin. “Aren’t the cops gonna be outside, monitoring their own bugs?”

  I nod. “The ones they installed earlier this afternoon? Yeah. But I don’t trust anyone but myself to get this right, Kev. If they miss something, I want to have it recorded.”

  Counts frowns. “They’ll bust it up if they need to, right?”

  Nodding again, I glance at the invisible camera. Satisfaction and anxiety pierce my chest at the same time.

  Let’s do this.

  I turn to my other friend. “Now get out of here, Counts. Don’t want you around once shit goes down.”

  Counts glares. “Ain’t leavin.’”

  I roll my eyes skyward. “Counts…”

  He steps up to me, our noses even but I’m heavier and Counts has never had size on me.

  But that doesn’t mean he’s not made of brave stuff. “I’m not going anywhere, Ace. Thick and thin with us, right?” He stares at me, challenging me to deny the fact that our friendship has withstood miles of bullshit.

  I can’t, so I just lift my chin in reluctant agreement. “Stay out of the fray.”

  He salutes me and then wanders over to the craps table.

  The first knock sounds at the door about half an hour later. X brought his bouncer friend Luke to help him man the door. I asked for help beefing up security, and Luke was the obvious choice. A rough-around-the-edges sort of dude who grew up in the hood directly across the street from the high school Counts and I attended, he loves a good rumble. And he’s probably packing, too, which is just a bonus in this situation.

  Carson sent over another employee from The Corner with X and along with Borg, they’re all stationed at different areas of the warehouse interior. I feel safe with them surrounding me, but even if I didn’t, I’d still be doing this. There’s only two ways out of this situation, and this is the only one I can control. That won’t end with me going down for a murder I didn’t commit.

  I know whoever the mystery shark is didn’t expect me to go to the cops. He figures my hands are as dirty as his, and that’s where he’s wrong.

  It’s this crucial mistake that I’m capitalizing on.

  Right now, I couldn’t be more thankful that Naima is far away from all of this. I asked Carson to stay on the sidelines and be with her, because I don’t trust anyone else with her safety.

  I’m keeping a low profile tonight. As rich college boys stream into the warehouse, choosing where to place their bets or what table game to play, I patrol the outskirts of the group, keeping an eye on every guy, the girls they brought, and the money passing hands. My skin stretches tight every time I think about the fact that my whole dynasty here is on video tonight. Detectives are watching from a live feed somewhere outside, and my own little hidden camera catches almost everything going down in this room.

  I shudder. It’s against everything I believe in, but it’s neces
sary if I want to end this chapter of my life and start a new one that doesn’t involve a jail cell. The mystery shark ruined this for me, but maybe I should thank him. He’s giving me an out, a way to clear the path to a life where I’m worthy of Naima.

  When Daniel walks in, glancing around him like he’s completely confused about everything going on, my wandering changes direction as I make my way toward him.

  Eyeing my approach, he stops between the table area and the sports lounge. He gives a slight jerk of his head toward the couches and flat screens, quirking a brow. “I don’t know what I expected, man, but it wasn’t this.”

  He sounds impressed. The sliver of admiration in his voice is clear, even though it’s reluctant.

  I lift a shoulder. “Yeah. It’s all about to go up in smoke, though. And I’m not going to ignore the fact that I have some blame in what happened to Marcus.”

  Daniel’s somber expression deepens as he nods. “I appreciate that. But Marcus made his own decisions.” He gestures around the room, glancing at my clients. “This clientele doesn’t look like it fits Marcus.”

  I nod. “Yeah. That’s the first thing I noticed the first night he came in here. Usually, I get a lot of rich college types, just playing around with money they inherited. It’s not super-high stakes. They only bet what their daddies won’t miss.”

  “And Marcus?” There’s sadness in his voice that makes me hesitate before answering.

  “Like you said, Marcus was different.”

  We leave it at that. I point toward the lounge. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable. If there’s anyone in here tonight that jumps out at you or pulls at a memory, let me know.”

  He knows the rundown, having also spoken with Detective Monahan. We both have a stake in this situation. He wants Marcus’ killer brought to justice. I want the man plotting my death and stalking my girl to pay.

  As Daniel settles in on one of the couches, his eyes land on the football game but his posture indicates he can’t care less; I head to the bar to grab a soda. A beer is what I really want, but dulling my senses right now is a bad idea. I can celebrate with a drink when this is all over. For now? All I have to do is wait for something to happen. Anxiety crawls through my stomach.

  I don’t have to wait long. The next time the front door opens I’m in the corner behind the tables with Counts, discussing the events going down at one of the craps games. Counts would make a killing in any gambling establishment. The way he manipulates numbers is scary.

  The hairs on the back of my neck lift with awareness; I’m slammed with an overwhelming urge to turn toward the door. I know what’s happening before I even turn around, and as I look up the world evolves into slow motion.

  When my eyes lock onto Naima’s, strutting in right in front of that asshole, Noah, everything freezes. I tear my gaze from hers to land on Noah’s hand nestled nice and secure on the small of her back. Rage settles just behind my eyes. My pulse roars in my ears, and my hands fist by my sides.

  Son of a bitch.

  Twenty-Six

  NAIMA

  Ace’s presence latches onto me as soon as I walk into the Ring. It’s a buzz of energy that grabs hold when I walk in the door and tugs, tugs, tugs until my gaze is pinned under his. A soft whoosh of air leaves me when I take him in. Everything about him screams at me to rush to his side.

  But the look on his face right now? That’s screaming at me to turn around and walk right back out the door.

  Shit, shit, shit. This was a bad idea. This was SUCH a bad idea.

  It’s so blatant, so clear from the look on his face. The tumult of emotions runs from shock, to a flicker of fear, to outright fury. And the exact moment his eyes collide with Noah’s hand on my back is also the moment I realize he’s touching me.

  I step to the side so that Noah’s hand drops, and a chuckle leaves him.

  “He doesn’t look too happy to see you,” he murmurs into my ear.

  No. He doesn’t.

  “I should go talk to him.” I take a step in Ace’s direction just as Noah grabs my elbow and steers me with a firm hand toward one of the game tables.

  “Later,” he orders.

  Wait, orders?

  I open my mouth to argue when Noah’s expression softens. “Sorry, Ny. Didn’t mean to sound like a boss. I want you to give him a minute to calm down before you talk to him. His temper’s notorious.”

  I stiffen. Noah sits down at a table and pulls me into a chair beside him. I’m pouting, and it’s making me feel like an immature child. I straighten in my seat, pulling my shoulders back. “Ace would never hurt me.”

  I can’t take my eyes off of Ace. He’s standing near the bar not too far from us, but not close enough to hear what we’re saying. He glances down, grabbing his phone from his pocket. He reads a text message, and then his eyes shoot back to me. He scowls.

  Damn. That would be Carson.

  Carson was watching me like a hawk ever since he picked me up from the sorority house this afternoon and brought me to The Corner. I wanted to come to the G-Ring, but I knew he’d never let me go. So I had to slip out the bar’s back door when he thought I was in the restroom. I can only imagine what’s going through Ace’s head right now.

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth.

  Pain arcs through my chest when his frown deepens. But then his eyes go soft as he tilts his head to one side to evaluate me and my insides melt.

  Noah’s eyes scan the room. He straightens the crisp collar on his blue-and-white striped button-down. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and he’s gone casual tonight in a pair of dark jeans. It’s a good look for him, but it doesn’t take my breath away the way Ace does dressed in black from his suit jacket to his square-toed dress shoes.

  “What do you see in him, Ny?”

  Noah’s voice startles me from my assessment of Ace, and I rip my eyes from my dark knight to meet Noah’s intensity. “What?”

  Noah jerks his head toward Ace. “Him. Is it that he runs this place? Seems dangerous to you? The whole bad-boy thing makes you want him more? Is it the Harley?”

  My mouth falls open as I stare at Noah. I contemplate his words carefully before I give him my answer. “Not exactly. I mean, there was an attraction at first that might have had something to do with that. But we just have…a connection, I guess. It’s hard to explain.”

  Noah’s eyes harden, glinting icy blue in the florescent overhead lighting. “I just don’t get it. If it’s a phase, just let me know. Because before you met him, you and I had a connection, too.”

  My stomach plummets, guilt burrowing a tiny hole and staying there. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Noah. I’m sorry I did.”

  “Will you give me half an hour tonight, Ny? Just thirty minutes, I swear. I want to show you something.”

  His tone is placating, pleading, and I study his features as I think it over. I glance at Ace, whose stare hasn’t left us. He takes a step in our direction. Then I glance back to Noah.

  “Where?” I ask.

  He takes my hand and pulls me up from the table. Pulling me to the door, we’re out in the night air and walking to his SUV.

  “Just let me show you,” he pleads.

  Maybe I owe Noah this much. I’m not sure, but I don’t want to say no to him. I’ve hurt him enough.

  At the same time, leaving Ace feels wrong. As soon as I had eyes on him and I knew he had eyes on me, I immediately felt better.

  Safer.

  Brushing the feeling aside so I can focus on Noah, I nod.

  “Yeah. Okay. Thirty minutes Noah.”

  We climb into his SUV and leave the warehouse parking lot. Noah is quiet as he drives, and I keep checking his profile. What’s he thinking? Is he pissed at me?

  When he speaks, I jump in my seat, turning to watch him.

  “When you asked me what I really wanted to do as a career, I wasn’t ready to admit that law school is my dad’ dream. Trying not to disappoint him is the same as breathing for me.”

/>   My chest aches for him. Understanding blooms in my heart. “I know, Noah. And I would be lying if I said I never felt that kind of pressure from my parents. But at some point you have to start living for you.”

  He glances at me, then back to the road. “I know, Ny. And you’re the one who helped me see that. When we were dating, you inspired me to think independently of my dad’s hopes. He’s doing exactly what he wants to with his life, and now it’s time for me to do the same.”

  I send him an encouraging smile. “I’m so proud of you for admitting that. Have you talked to him about it?”

  Noah pulls the SUV out of the uptown traffic and into a parking garage. After he slides the huge vehicle into a slot, he throws it into park and turns to look at me. “No, I haven’t. That’ll be a big blowup, and I’m not ready for it yet. I haven’t told anyone…except you.”

  Absorbing that bit of information, I give him a slow nod. I tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear and send him a small smile. “I’m glad you shared it with me. What are your plans?”

  Noah climbs out of the car. I watch him as he walks around to my side and pulls open my door. He helps me climb down from the SUV and takes my hand. “My plans are to buy into my uncle’s construction company. He’s been building high-rises and other commercial buildings in Charlotte for years. He actually does stuff for your dad sometimes. I work with him in the summers. I love doing it, but I want a piece of the company and he says I can have it if I can buy in.”

  My eyes go wide. “But that’s gotta be a lot of money, Noah. Will your dad sign your trust fund over to you if he knows that’s what you’re going to use it for?”

  Noah’s family comes from old money, and his dad is the manger of his rust fund. That much I know from our years of friendship. It’s one reason he’s always done what his dad wanted, for the freedom of finally being in control of his own inheritance.

  He takes my hand and leads me toward the side of the garage where a sign hangs above a metal door labeled STAIRWELL 2C.