Big Bad Wolf: A Bad Boy Next Door Second Chance Romance
Page 29
I let go of her hand, my heart letting go too. I've made my peace, at least some crazy semblance of it.
Tears fall freely down my cheeks, stinging my skin, reminding me that none of this is easy.
And then, the monitors pop to life. Blare with noise and beeping.
Janie moves her head ever so slightly—the first movement I've seen since I showed up here at the hospital two months ago.
“Nurse!” I scream. “Come quick, Janie moved!” I was not expecting this at all.
Two nurses rush to the bedside, and we watch in awe as Janie's eyes blink open.
She looks right at me.
17
EMMY
Against all odds, Janie is awake. Startlingly, awake. Eyes wild, hands manic.
She immediately begins trying to pull the ventilator out of her lungs, ripping IVs from her arms.
The doctor runs in, the nurses are frantic, and they quickly force her down, securing her arms to the bed.
I cover my face, shocked and unprepared for her to begin moving violently.
Unprepared for anything that doesn’t end in death.
The doctor sedates her, and nurses move to replace her IVs.
And then, in an instant, she is gone again as the drugs are absorbed.
The room stills around me as the truth sets in.
Janie is alive.
ACE
I’m in my office, getting shit done, when the phone rings.
Finally.
Emmy is a fucking dick-tease with the way she’s held out on calling me. I gave her my number before she left for the hospital. I wanted to go with her, but she refused, saying if she was saying goodbye to her sister she needed to do it alone.
I get that. When my two sisters were found dead a week after they were kidnapped by the fucking Bollario family, I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.
When I found my mother at her kitchen table, blood seeping over her white tablecloth—shot in the head while she was peeling potatoes—I didn’t want anyone to see the way I broke down.
So when Emmy said she needed to do this alone, I fucking got it.
But, damn, it was hard to watch her go.
I confessed my motherfucking love to her before she left. And now it’s been twenty-four hours, waiting for her to call.
“Emmy, you okay?” I ask.
“She woke up,” Emmy says, her voice soft. “They didn’t pull the plug.... she’s awake.”
“That’s fucking unbelievable.”
Emmy laughs, sharp and high and full of relief. “I know right? I still can’t believe it, Ace. I didn’t lose my whole family today. I thought I would be going to bed alone in the world, and now I don’t have to.”
“You wouldn’t have had to anyway,” I tell her. “I told you I love you, and I mean it.”
“I know you did, it’s just....”
“Just what?” I don’t like her hesitation.
“It’s just ... I thought you and I made sense when I had no one else. Like, that the universe was giving me someone when I thought I was going to be alone. But now I’m not. I have my sister. And my priority is Janie. I don’t know if I can really start something with you ... now.”
“That’s fucking bullshit, Emmy. You can’t really start something?” I want to punch a wall. Instead I start pacing my thousand-square-foot office.
“I’m not being coy, Ace. I’m being honest. I’m not one of those girls who play games. I mean what I say. And I say my sister is my priority.”
“And me? I’m what, a fucking distraction? Because I know I’m more than that to you.”
“You’ve known me what, a week? Come on, Ace. Those words in the elevator were just that. Words.”
I want her to understand words like I love you aren’t just words to me. She doesn’t seem to get that I haven’t said them to a soul since my mother died. She doesn’t understand because she isn’t listening. She may say she doesn’t play games, but she knows how to fucking run.
“You still at the hospital?” I ask.
“Yeah, I still have to talk with the doctor and figure out what happens next. And then I need to stay here until she starts talking. Which is why I am calling ... I can’t do this. Us. And I didn’t want to leave you hanging. You’ve been so good to me.”
“I’ll be there in thirty.”
“Ace, no.... you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t. I can do what I fucking want. And what I want is you. I’m not letting you go that easy. I let you push me away last week. I’m not doing it again.”
The line is silent and I wonder if she doesn’t like the aggressive macho bullshit I’m pulling, the bullshit that happens to be the fucking truth.
But then Emmy speaks. “Okay,” she says simply. “I’ll see you soon.” And then she hangs up.
Emmy is a woman who doesn’t trust people, doesn’t ask for help. And okay, I get it, she has an effed up past—lucky for her I do, too. So her running away won’t get her very far. Not when I’m used to running just as fucking fast.
Emmy texts me what floor she’s on, so when I get to the hospital it doesn’t take me long to find my way to her. And the text was full of the unspoken truth. I mean, she says she doesn’t want me, doesn’t play games—but then hangs up and tells me where she is.
Some girls might run into the arms of a rich man, think that might solve their problems—but hell, Emmy Rose is a tough sell.
I just need to show her that she can trust me. That I’m the man for her.
Because I already fucking know she is the woman for me.
“Ace,” she says, the lilt in her voice gentle. When I reach her I see her eyes are red, her skin dry, her hair in a messy bun. But the tension from before, when she thought this day would end in death, is gone. For the first time I’m seeing a hopeful Emmy.
I wonder what a head-over-heels Emmy might look like?
I’ll fucking get back with the information on that, because I plan on finding out.
“You okay?” I ask, pulling her into a hug. Her whole body goes limp in my arms, like she’s been holding too much together for so long and just needs a man with whom she can fall apart.
“She isn’t, like, alive-alive,” Emmy says, her face pressed against my chest, not letting go.
I want to keep her here forever, and I know that’s selfish but it’s true. I want this woman like nothing else.
Emmy keeps speaking, “She’s blinking. Her brain activity is fluid. For a second I thought she looked at me. I don’t know ... I mean, that’s why I said the timing for us is off. I need to help her rehabilitate and it might be awhile.”
“Well, you aren’t moving into the fucking hospital. It doesn’t need to be one or the other.”
“I know ... but I just—Ace, I need to get this right. Maybe you don’t understand what family means—means to a girl like me.”
I shake my head, trying not to get pissed at her for not knowing me. That is the problem with us right now, I realize. Emmy doesn’t know much about me besides the fact I have a massive cock that her pussy craves.
I need to show her who I really am, what I can really offer.
“Do you want to come see Janie?” Emmy asks.
I swallow, not wanting to tell her that no, I don’t want to see Janie ... not at all. I want to avoid that possibility for as long as possible. For forever.
Emmy pulls away, looks up at me. “Actually, it isn’t a great time. I have to meet with the doctor right now. You can just stay out here, okay? I’ll come out to find you when I’m done.”
I nod, then kiss her lips—hard and true—before letting her walk away.
I sit in a hard plastic chair, pull out my phone, and start texting with my assistant, Denise.
Me: Clear my schedule for the next few days.
Denise: You got it boss.
I’m sitting in my chair, checking scores from tonight’s games, when the last person I expect to see stops to say hello.
It’s, Janet
Denzel, the wife of my newly-fired lawyer. I stand up to greet her.
“Ace, dear, what are you doing here?” Janet asks, as I bend down to kiss her cheek. Her face is pale, her hands tightly gripping a walker. She’s wearing a bathrobe, and is clearly staying a while.
“A friend’s sister is here, we’re visiting.” I hesitate, then ask the hard question. “And you, what are you doing here?”
“Oh, Ace. Things have been rough. Touch and go really. I’m here for another surgery, tomorrow morning.”
She must see my face etched with worry, because she pats my hand, shaking her head.
“I’ll be fine, Ace. I will. What will be, will be. I’m mostly just worried about Mark.... He’s working so hard; I think he’s pulled in too many directions.”
When I don’t answer, she adds, “Ace, I know how much Mark cares about you. You’ll look out for him, won’t you?”
It’s clear she doesn’t know about the falling out, and I’m glad. The last thing Janet needs to worry about right now is Mark and I not seeing eye-to-eye.
“Anything for you, Janet,” I tell her.
“My nurses will be mad if I’m not in bed like I’ve promised, so I’ll leave you be, but it was so good to see you, Ace.”
“You too, Janet.” I give her a hug goodbye, noticing how frail she is. There’s no meat on her bones and I wonder how much time she has left. This has gotta be killing Mark.
“Oh, and Ace—keep your head on straight with the ladies. I worry about you.”
“Noted,” I tell her, smiling tightly as she scoots away down the hall.
I quickly text Denise again, telling her to send some flowers to Janet at the hospital.
As I pocket my phone, I see Emmy walking toward me with a doctor. She looks annoyed, and it’s a look I’m all too familiar with, even after just a week of knowing her.
EMMY
My head hurts.
Like, exhausted slash annoyed slash are you kidding me? Hurts like a motherfucker, really.
Hurts like if you tell me one more shitty thing, Doc, I might lose my actual cool.
Not just my pretend cool, not the cool I show most people. I’m talking the for-reals Emmy-cool. The cool I never show anyone, because I’m not usually so messed up in my head.
But right now I feel beyond messy. I feel like a straight-up disaster zone. Stage five tornado. Emergency evacuation. Get the hell out of here, hot-mess.
The doctor introduces himself to Ace, like they run in the same crowd or something.
“I’m Ace Royalle,” he says coolly, looking me over, as if assessing the situation. And by situation, I mean my situation. He must be able to see I’m all screwy.
I didn’t sleep all night or all day, and now it’s five p.m. I ate a bag of Lay’s potato chips around ten this morning, but nothing before or since.
And I know my breath must smell like a legit dumpster. Like, I want to kiss Ace again so bad it hurts, but when he kissed me earlier I was so scared he would realize that I am not some sexy woman, that I’m currently rocking beast-mode.
And right now, as the doctor reaches out to shake his hand, I know that if Ace takes another step toward me before I can thoroughly brush my gums, I may be liable to punch him in the junk just to distract him.
Which, why do I even want him? I mean, besides the fact he gets me wet every time we’re within fifty feet of one another, and besides the fact he is funny as hell and is Alpha-everything. Besides the fact his arms feel safe and his eyes are sincere and his cock is literally drool-worthy. Like, I actually drooled on it when I sucked him off last time.
It is that impressive.
So why did I try to blow him off after he told me he loved me? Why did I tell him I wanted to end things, that things were over, when I called him tonight? Why am I fighting everything I want?
I don’t know. I have daddy issues and who knows what else.
Also, I’m still scared. Of a hundred different things.
And right now, I’m mostly scared that something is still going to go wrong with Janie.
I need for her to recover.
“I’m Doctor Matthews, and I was just trying to explain a few things to Emmy here, but she’s pretty resistant to my ideas.”
“And what ideas are those, exactly?” Ace asks, eying him critically.
Okay, I know I’m trying to step back from all things Ace, but what he just did—looked Doctor Matthews over twice, and didn’t act like he’s god because he saves lives—that’s the shit I love. The shit that gets me horny.
I like the fact Ace isn’t getting off because some fancy doctor is talking to him. He’s acting like a man who has nothing to prove.
“Emmy needs to rest, to take a break from the hospital. She has been here every day off she’s had, for months. She sleeps here most nights. She hasn’t been outside in twenty-four hours.”
My body stiffens at the doctor’s words. I don’t want to leave. I want to be here for Janie’s first words—first everything. We’ve spent years apart, and I just want to have a sister again. A family.
“That’s great to hear, Doctor Matthews; I was thinking the same thing,” Ace says. “In fact, as her boss, I’m giving her paid leave so she can take care of herself.”
Jiggawhat? Ace is supposed to have my back. Not be all buddy-buddy with the doc.
“Um, no. I’ve gotta stay. For Janie.” I scowl at both men.
“The odds of your sister recovering to the point of speaking any time soon—this week even—are unrealistic. Her body is going to need plenty of recovery time, and your presence may heighten the stressors she needs to avoid.”
“You’re saying I’m her stressor? I’m her sister.”
“Yes, we’re all very aware of that, Emmy,” Doctor Matthews says. “But she needs to recuperate, and that isn’t going to happen overnight.”
I don’t want to cry. Not here with the doctor and not with Ace. I want to be strong. Be capable.
I also sort of just want to curl up in a ball and sleep for like fourteen days straight.
“The timing is perfect anyways, Doctor Matthews,” Ace says. “I have a getaway planned for Emmy, and I think it’s going to be perfect for her.”
“Get-a-what?” I ask, not knowing Ace’s plans. I’m not going anywhere.
“Great,” Doctor Matthew says. “Then under doctor’s orders, Emmy, I need you to take the next few days off. Come back rested. And we’ll call you if there’s any news.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I say, raising a brow at him.
“I actually can. This is my floor. These are my patients. I don’t want to ban you, so you need to take time off on your own.”
Doctor Matthews walks away and I feel like kicking him. Kicking something.
I kick Ace’s shin instead, and he immediately reaches down to grab it in pain.
“What the fuck, Emmy Rose?” he asks, rubbing the place I kicked.
I know I couldn’t have hurt him that badly. I’m in ballet flats, for Christ’s sake.
“You’re supposed to have my back with doctors. With everything,” I tell him flippantly. “You know, if you love me?”
Ace smirks. “I thought you broke up with me.”
“I never knew we were together.”
“Well, we are.” And then Ace pulls me in for a kiss. I purse my lips together tightly. “Why are you so stingy with the PDA?”
“I haven’t showered in like eight years.”
“What’s with the hyperbole?”
“I hyperbolize when I’m exhausted. It’s like cheap humor. Usually gets my point across.”
“You’re saying you don’t want me to kiss you?”
I laugh, closing my eyes—realizing I would never have left this hospital unless a doctor threatened to ban me. Realizing I am so glad Ace didn’t listen when I told him to stay away.
Realizing I basically have no fucking clue what I actually need.
But maybe Ace does.
“I’m saying
I want to shower first. And then you can do whatever you like with me.”
18
ACE
I take her to Spades Royalle.
She falls asleep on the drive over, and I realize this woman is beyond spent. She needs a solid night of rest before we get away anywhere.
We take a back entrance to avoid the casino floor. Emmy is exhausted and doesn’t need to run into anyone she knows.
I take her to the penthouse on the top floor.
My penthouse.
“I thought you don’t take women here?” she asks as we step out of the elevator into my massive apartment.
“I don’t take women here. But you’re not any woman. You’re mine.”
I see her eyes glaze over with desire at my words. Good. I like to see Emmy coming back. Maybe she’s just been in the sterile hospital for too long.
I show her to the bathroom, and turn on the faucet in the shower, which is large enough for a motherfucking orgy.
I show her the drawer of toiletries, and step away to make a few calls.
“Hey,” I say when Claire picks up. “This is Ace. Ace Royalle. And I want to surprise Emmy. Can you help me?”
“Oh, thank you, lord,” Claire says into the phone. “That poor girl. She called earlier, so happy about her sister waking up—which I get, it’s a miracle. But then said she was going to stay at the hospital until she started talking.”
“Well, she’s at my place now. I’m guessing she’ll sleep for twelve hours and then I can take her somewhere she’s never been. Get her mind off things. Any suggestions?”
“I thought you were her boyfriend. Aren’t you supposed to know these things?”
I grimace, realizing there are a lot of things about her I don’t know. Favorite food. Favorite movie. Favorite position—at least with that one I can make a few educated guesses.
“She tell you I’m her boyfriend?”
“Ha. No. Emmy isn’t a girly-girl,” Claire says. “She doesn’t kiss and tell. She’s basically just wound up too tight for her own good. What she really needs is to completely turn off for a few days. A chance to stop thinking about everything ... and just remember who she is.”