Ace of Spades (Aces & Eights Book 3)

by Sandra Owens

  It wasn’t lost on her that as children, they’d both been witnesses to their mothers’ murders. If not for Rosie, there was no telling how she would have turned out. She almost felt sorry for him, for the boy who hadn’t had a Rosie in his life when he’d needed one the most.

  And then there was the man walking next to her with his hand on her back. She loved when he did that, but she wished he wouldn’t. When he touched her, it made her want to nestle into him, made her want more from him than he was willing to give. And that, more than anything, was the reason for the emptiness residing inside her.

  “Now that I don’t need a bodyguard, would you drop me off at my apartment so I can get my car?”

  “I can, but maybe you don’t need it. We’re off for the rest of the day and tomorrow.”

  She glanced up at him. “We are? Why?”

  They came to his car, and he faced her. “Because I asked and Rothmire agreed.” He looked down at the pavement, then lifted his eyes to hers. “I thought maybe we could have dinner and have that talk we’ve been putting off, and then you’d come with me to Dunnellon in the morning.”

  There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made her want to say yes, but she hesitated. What did he want for them? If it was just back to friends with benefits, she couldn’t do it. And honestly, even if he was willing to use the word relationship with her, at some point, he would end it, leaving her heartbroken. Or more heartbroken than she already was.

  “I think your visit tomorrow is something you need to do on your own. It’s your discovery to make. And I’m going to pass on tonight. The girls will be home tomorrow, and I need to stock up Rosie’s refrigerator and plan a welcome meal for them.”

  “We need to talk, Taylor. At least have dinner with me.”

  Dammit, her eyes were burning. She willed her tears away. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Rothmire walked out of the building. “Listen, I need to stop by the office for a few minutes. I’ll catch a ride with the boss. Rand or someone can run me home.”

  She walked away before she could change her mind, but she hated how Nate’s expression had blanked. Should she have listened to what he had to say? No, she already knew. He’d offer an exclusive relationship simply because that was what she’d asked for, but then he’d explain again why he’d never marry.

  What he would offer her no longer worked for her. She wanted it all. His love and his ring on her finger.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “I warned you that if you stole one more beer, you’d regret it.” Nate stood toe-to-toe with Dirty Dan. Nate was ready to hurt someone, and Dirty Dan would do just fine.

  Dirty Dan smirked. “Like I never heard that from you before, but you’re all bark. I don’t think you have the balls to take me on.” He guzzled the rest of the stolen beer, then smacked his lips as he reached across the bar and refilled the mug.

  Rage filled Nate’s brain. He saw nothing but the asshole he was going to beat to a pulp.

  That’s right. Beat the shit out of him, boy, his father’s voice said in his head.

  Nate’s heart stopped, or at least it felt like it did. He wasn’t his fucking father. He stumbled back, and as he became aware of his surroundings again, he saw his brothers watching him, concern on their faces. Like a drunken man, he lurched away, heading for the office.

  “Knew you didn’t have the balls,” Dirty Dan called after him.

  Dirty Dan was wrong. He had the balls, he just chose not to use them for violence. Dirty Dan should consider himself lucky he wasn’t about to be dead.

  “Get the hell out and never come back. Aces and Eights is closed to you forever,” he heard Court say to Dirty Dan.

  “Keep an eye on things,” Alex said to their bartender.

  Damn pesky brothers. They were following him. He was tempted to lock them out of the office, but they’d just stand on the other side and bang on the door until he let them in.

  He went straight to the bar, poured a shot of whiskey—which he hated, so it was the only liquor he allowed himself when needing a stiff drink—into a glass. Downing it, he grimaced. Christ, that was awful. But it gave him the burn all the way down to his stomach—which he craved—without making him want more. He set the glass on the minibar counter, then faced his brothers.

  “Go away.”

  “Not a good sign when you’re drinking whiskey, so we’re not going away,” Court said. He plopped down on the black leather sofa. “Talk to us.”

  Alex planted his ass on the other end of the couch. “You came close to losing it, bro. And it wasn’t because of Dirty Dan. The two of you have always played a game of him stealing beer and you catching him. Hell, you have as much fun over that as him. What’s really bothering you?”

  “Do either of you not understand what ‘go away’ means?”

  Court and Alex exchanged a glance, then Court said, “We know what it means, but when this is the first time our big brother needs us? Not gonna happen.”

  “What he said,” Alex said.

  “I don’t need you, either of you. So I mean it. Go away.”

  Alex lifted his feet, putting them on the coffee table and crossing his ankles. “Now I’m definitely not going away.” He glanced at Court. “How about you?”

  “Nope, not until he tells us what’s going on in his head.” Court put his booted feet on the coffee table, too. Both his brothers looked as if they weren’t about to budge.

  “I think he’s in love,” Alex said.

  Court frowned at Alex. “And that’s a problem because?”

  “Because he’s afraid, maybe?”

  Nate would willingly die for the two idiots he claimed as brothers, but he was going to kill them if they didn’t shut up.

  “Of what?” Court asked.

  Alex shrugged. “Until he starts talking, all we can do is guess.” Alex eyed Nate. “Or we could take him down, torture him until he tells us why Dirty Dan came within an inch of dying tonight.”

  “There’s an idea.” Court looked at Nate. “Which is it going to be, bro? Talk or fight? We’re up for either.”

  They weren’t going to leave him alone, but he didn’t really want them to. He wearily sank down in the desk chair. Even though he’d grown up with these two men, they’d never talked much about their father and what the bastard had put them all through. That they each hated the old man was a given, and it had never been necessary to put that sentiment in words. The less they thought about him, the happier they were.

  “I’m growing moss under my feet, bro,” Alex said. “Spit it out. What’s bugging you?”

  Nate picked up a pen and tapped it on the desk. “You ever wonder if you could turn out like the old man?”

  “Why would we wonder that?” Court said.

  “Twenty-five to thirty-five percent of abused children grow up to be abusers.”

  “Truthfully, I’m surprised it isn’t a higher percentage.” Alex frowned. “But what’s that got to do with anything?”

  “You’ve never worried that you could lose your temper and seriously hurt someone?”

  Court’s eyes lit with understanding. “You’re afraid of becoming like him.”

  “That’s a crock of shit,” Alex said. “You could never be like that man.”

  “You don’t know that. I don’t know that.” None of them ever referred to their sire as their father. That would give him respect he’d never earned.

  “You remember when I”—Court made air quotes—“‘borrowed’ your favorite shirt?”

  “Yeah, you tore it.”

  “You were pissed, but you didn’t put a hand on me.”

  No, he’d gone for a long walk in the woods behind their property, something he’d done back then whenever he was angry.

  “Remember when I shaved off your eyebrows the first time you got drunk? All you did was yell at me.”

  Nate glared at Alex. “I might still beat you up for that one. And it was the only time I’ve ever been drunk.”

  �
��And why is that?” Court dropped his feet to the floor. “Because the old man got drunk every day, and you didn’t want to be like him. And another thing. You don’t do relationships because you’ve always been afraid you’d lose it at some point and hurt a woman. Am I wrong?”

  Nate shook his head.

  “Well, consider this. If it’s Taylor you want, go for it. If you ever did try to hurt her, she’d give as good as she got. She can fight with the best of us.”

  “And if you ever did hurt her, we’d help her bury you in the backyard,” Alex said.

  Court nodded in agreement. “Truth.”

  “What about her girls? They sure as hell can’t fight back against someone like me.”

  “Christ, man.” Alex stood. “If Court and I couldn’t get you to beat on us, brats that we were, you think you’d really lose it with them so badly you’d want to hurt them?” He walked to the door, then paused. “If you don’t see that you’re a good man, then you are really stupid.” He walked out, slamming the door behind him.

  Nate frowned. “What’s his problem?”

  “You’ve always been his hero, and he wants to see you happy. It frustrates him that you think you could be anything like the old man. You don’t have it in you to be like that,” Court said.

  “I almost killed that man once, would have if you hadn’t pulled me off him. I’d say that’s proof that I do have it in me.” That day and the rage burning inside him was marked on his brain like a giant X, a warning of what he could turn into.

  “He deserved to die for shredding Alex’s back like that and for an endless list of other reasons. If I’d been a few years older and stronger, I’d have killed him myself. That one act doesn’t define you, Nate, so don’t let it stop you from going after what you want.” Court pushed up. “Let yourself be happy, brother. Get out of here and go talk to Taylor. If you haven’t admitted it to yourself, you’re in love with her. Alex and I’ll close up tonight.” He glanced over his shoulder as he walked out. “And for what it’s worth, you’re my hero, too.”

  Alone, Nate tried to blink away the burning in his eyes. As his brothers’ words settled into his mind, he still didn’t feel like a hero, but for the first time, he believed that he had as much right to be as happy as the next person.

  Would he ever hurt Taylor in a fit of anger? No fucking way. Alex had it right. He’d put a gun to his temple first. He pressed his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. Hell, if he even dared to raise his hand to Taylor, she’d put him on his ass.

  What about her girls? Could he ever lose his temper enough to hurt them? He thought about it, and the answer was an adamant no. There was nothing they could do to make him want to hurt them.

  If he did get angry over something, all he had to do was walk away until he calmed down, something his father had never done. But was it really that easy, walking away? He considered it. Yeah, it really was. Just put one foot in front of the other and leave. Go for a long motorcycle ride—which always calmed him—or go to the gym and kill a punching bag.

  A weight that had lived like a heavy rock in his chest for as long as he could remember vanished with the understanding that he could control his actions. So simple, and so stupid that he’d never grasped that before now. Screw the statistics. He didn’t have to be like his father unless he chose to be.

  If you haven’t admitted it to yourself, you’re in love with her, Court had said. Love. Not a word he’d ever allowed himself to hope for, long ago accepting he’d spend his life alone. But watching his brothers fall for their wives, he’d tried not to envy them. As surprising as it was, he was in love.

  And the big question? Had he lost his chance with Taylor?

  Taylor stirred chocolate chips into the batter for the pancakes, the girls’ favorite breakfast. The K2 guys had taken turns driving through the night, and Rosie had called to say that they would be home in thirty minutes.

  The girls loved chocolate-chip pancakes, piled high with whipped cream. It was a rare indulgence for them, but Taylor planned to spoil them a little this morning. She’d missed them so much and was probably more excited about seeing them than they were to see her.

  Her phone pinged, signaling a text. She picked it up and swiped the screen, her heart giving a little stutter at seeing Nate’s name.

  Leaving for Dunnellon. Give girls a hug for me.

  She stared at the message, trying not to read anything into Nate texting her.

  Hope you find your answers, she finally typed.

  Me too

  She thought they were done, but as she lowered the phone to the counter, another text showed up.

  Can I stop by tonight?

  No. Yes. She didn’t know.

  Call when u get back

  That would give her time to decide if she was ready to see him.

  K

  When she’d walked away to catch a ride with their boss yesterday, she’d wanted Nate to stop her, to show her that he’d fight for her. But he’d let her go without a word. She’d cried herself to sleep last night, alone in her bed. It was the last time she’d shed tears over him, though. If not for Rosie and the girls, she’d ask for a transfer. To the other side of the country, preferably. But she could never leave them, so she’d just have to suck it up and do her best to get over him.

  Besides, what did she need a man for? She had a great job she loved, her little family, and a perfectly serviceable vibrator. Oh, and Henry Too. Mustn’t forget him. From nothing, she’d managed to create a pretty nice life for herself, and every time that part of her heart belonging to Nate hurt, she’d remind herself that she had no reason to complain.

  At the sound of a vehicle in Rosie’s driveway, Taylor rushed outside. The K2 guys already had the side door to the van open and were helping her girls out. As soon as they saw her, all but Annie, who was in Ryan’s arms, ran to her.

  Taylor dropped her knees to the ground and held out her arms. They tumbled into her, laughing and hugging her. “Goodness, look at your tans. Did you have fun at the beach?” She already knew the answer, as every evening when she talked to them, she’d heard how much fun they were having, especially burying Ryan and Jamie in the sand.

  “Yes!” Sarrie and June exclaimed as one.

  Bri wiggled out of Taylor’s hold. “We want to go on a beach vacation every year. Saint and Doc said we could come to Pensacola and see them. They said that’s where the prettiest beaches in the whole world are. Can we?”

  “We’ll see. Right now, I’m just so happy you’re home. I missed all of you so much.”

  Elle squeezed her arms around Taylor’s neck. “We missed you, too. You shoulda come with us.”

  Not to be left out, Robin said, “I missed you the most.”

  “Did not,” Bri said. “We all missed her the same.”

  “Tay!” Annie yelled.

  Taylor laughed when Ryan stuck his finger in his ear and shook his head.

  “Girl’s got a set of lungs,” he said.

  He put Annie down, and she wobble-walked to Taylor. “Tay!” she screamed again, falling into Taylor’s lap.

  “Hello, baby girl.” Taylor wrapped her arms around Annie. “It’s about time you came home. Missed you.”

  Rosie and the K2 men unloaded the suitcases and took them into the house. When the guys returned, Taylor kissed the top of Annie’s head, then stood, holding her little girl, and walked over to the guys.

  “I don’t know how to thank you. Because of you, I didn’t have to worry about him coming after the girls.”

  “Anytime you need us to watch over them, we’re just a phone call away,” Jamie said.

  Ryan smiled at Annie. “They’re a delight.” He poked Annie in the stomach, making her giggle. “Especially this one. If you weren’t so attached to her, I’d steal her right out of your arms.”

  “Tell Taylor you said we could come to Pensacola,” Bri said.

  “That’s right. Your next vacation, you should come up with the girls. Our w
ives and kids would love that.”

  “I’ll seriously consider it. You have time for breakfast? I’m making chocolate-chip pancakes.”

  “Yay! Chocolate-chip pancakes,” Robin said, jumping up and down.

  Jamie shook his head. “Tempting, but we need to get on the road.”

  They squatted, said their good-byes to the girls, and got hugs from each of them, with promises that they’d get Taylor to bring them to the beach in Pensacola. When they got in the van, waving as they pulled out of the driveway, Annie burst into tears.

  “No go,” she cried.

  “Ah, sweetie, you’ll see them again. Let’s go feed you.”

  She walked into the house with her little family. She tried not to wish that Nate were here to welcome them home with her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Once again, Nate sat in his car outside of the run-down house in Dunnellon. This was it, the day he’d get his answers. As he walked up to the door, he couldn’t decide if he hoped his mother was in that house or not.

  Before he could knock, the door opened, and Nate recognized Harmon Baker. The years hadn’t been kind to him. Dressed in stained overalls, a good twenty pounds underweight, and with a gray beard that looked like it needed a wash, the man Nate remembered being kind to them narrowed his eyes.

  “I wondered how long it’d take ya to come with yer questions,” he said in greeting as he came out onto the porch. “Expected ya years ago. Which Gentry brother are ya? Never could get ya boys straight in my head.”

  So Harmon remembered them. “I’m Nate, the oldest one.” He held out his hand to the old man.

  “The one got beat on the most,” Harmon said, shaking Nate’s hand. “Yer pa weren’t a good man.”

  Nate couldn’t argue with that. He eyed the door that had been left open a crack, wondering if his mother was in there, watching. “Do you have a few minutes?”