Beyond Jealousy

by Kit Rocha

  He had to prove them wrong. He had to try. "I know."

  "No, you don't. You didn't see them, man."

  "Then tell me."

  "Rachel lost it," he said simply. "When we thought we couldn't get a tech out here for you, Doc started talking about putting you down like a fucking dog. She tried to strangle him. But the surprise was Cruz." He shifted on the bed, turning to face Ace. "I thought he'd lock it down, you know? Try to prop Rachel up, get her through it. But he couldn't."

  "He would have." It was impossible to imagine an alternative, a world where Cruz didn't do all the right things for Rachel. She was the one who mattered to him.

  Deserved him.

  Jas snorted. "Tell me, you say, and then you don't listen when I do."

  He closed his eyes, wry laughter rattling up through his chest. "Because it sounds a lot less fucking manly to say make me believe."

  "Truth. And I've got another one for you--if they couldn't get it through your skull, then I don't stand a chance."

  "I'm scared," Ace admitted, and then groaned. "Fuck, Jas. Why in hell do they have to be so perfect?"

  That brought a chuckle spilling out of his friend. "I'm just spitballin' here, man...but have you considered that maybe they're not, only you're too fucking in love with them to notice?"

  No, he really hadn't.

  Ace struggled into a seated position. The room spun woozily for a second, and fuck if he knew why. Maybe he was still light-headed from his injury. Maybe Jas had just upended his world. He only had one lifeline left, and he lunged for it as everything else fell away. "If they were that worried, why aren't they here?"

  Jas's smile faded. "Because you told them they didn't belong here."

  Despite her bone-crushing exhaustion and the mysterious regen tech's assurance that Ace would be fine, Rachel slept fitfully. Not deep enough to dream, but nightmares dragged at her anyway, bloody and desolate. Every time one began to seem too real, too focused, the heart-pounding fear jerked her up out of a shallow doze.

  She was staring up into the darkness, trying to fall asleep again, when the door opened.

  "Ace is fine," was the first thing Cruz said, even before he eased the door shut. He continued as he approached the bed, toeing off his boots and stripping his shirt over his head. "Doc's with him now, but Noelle said he was awake and talking and seemed good."

  Relief surged through her, even more gut-wrenching than the terror. "He's okay?"

  "He's okay." Cruz slid into bed and reached for her, and the tremor in his hands made his calm words a lie. "I didn't go see him. I didn't know if..."

  "Yeah." They weren't invited, pure and simple. Ace could insist nothing had changed, that the gang came first, but the truth was it would be a long time, if ever, before the pain settled. O'Kane for life--that was the promise, the oath, but it didn't make things effortless or easy.

  Cruz exhaled slowly, but the tension didn't leave his body. "I don't know what to do. I fixed what I knew how to fix, but it wasn't enough. There's nothing left to fight."

  "You keep going." The words rang hollow, thick through the tears closing her throat and burning in her eyes. "One foot in front of the other."

  He gathered her closer, fingers sifting through her hair as he guided her head to his bare chest. For a long time all he did was stroke her hair and drag in deep breaths, both of them silent in the lonely darkness.

  When he finally spoke, it was barely a whisper. "I was afraid you wouldn't want me without him. But when I saw that knife go into him, I got it. I really got it. You're enough for me, you'll always be enough. But that doesn't mean we're not less without him."

  That was the heart of all the messy confusion, wasn't it? From her father's angry questions to Ace's inability to truly believe they held a place in their hearts for him. She should have been more open with her words, her feelings, but fear had held her in its paralyzing grip. And now it was too late.

  "I'll always love you, Lorenzo. It's not about whether what we have is enough, or needing more," she agreed. "It's about needing him."

  "At least he's alive. I just hope--"

  He cut off as someone knocked at the door. Just two hollow thuds, but then the door swung open and Ace stood there, weaving a little on his feet. "If I wait for someone to answer, I'll probably tip over."

  Rachel's heart lodged in her throat. She sat up slowly and tried to tell herself that his arrival didn't necessarily mean anything had changed. Maybe he wanted to apologize for how things had gone down. Maybe he wanted to thank them.

  It didn't mean anything.

  Ace swayed, and Cruz rolled from the bed and made it halfway across the room before stopping. "Should you be out of bed?"

  "Probably not." Ace met Rachel's gaze. The terror in his dark eyes was stark, unhidden. Far too much emotion to be anything safe or simple. "Is there still room in that one?"

  The blaze of hope inside her chilled as it crashed into the aching remnants of her shattered heart. "If you want to be in it. That's the real question, isn't it?"

  "Not for me," he said bluntly. "I know about fucking, Rae. But all I've ever known about relationships is being paid to fake them. What I wanted never really mattered."

  Truth, finally. The kind of honesty she'd always craved from him, even if the words were edged with pain.

  Cruz must have heard the same thing, because he crossed to Ace and got a shoulder under one of his arms. "Let go of the doorframe before you break it."

  Even with the support, he wobbled as they made their way to the bed. Rachel slid over to make room as Cruz urged him down. "Come here."

  Ace stretched out with a wince, his hand going to his side. "Don't turn on the lights. I'm not ready to see what my tattoos look like."

  As exasperating as it was, the hint of vanity almost made Rachel smile. "Shut up. You're lucky to be alive."

  "So I hear." He looked at Cruz, who was still looming next to the bed. "How much did you give up for me?"

  Rachel didn't know the answer. Cruz had been stubbornly silent on the topic, but even she knew it was a lie when he shook his head. "Nothing. Someone owed me a favor."

  "No." She'd had enough hiding and half-truths to last a lifetime. "No more lies, or we might as well just let it go now."

  "What'll happen if I tell him? If I tell him I risked everyone in the damn sector, everyone in all the sectors. That I promised the scariest man any of us will ever meet an open-ended favor, and in return he kidnapped the most prized doctor in Eden and brought her here in the trunk of a fucking car?" Cruz slammed an open palm against the headboard and leaned over them, his gaze a little wild. "What will you do if I tell you that, Ace? Will you finally believe I fucking love you? Or will you figure out a way that it's all about her?"

  Exactly what she'd demanded--the truth--but Ace stared at him for a long time before speaking, his tone full of confused wonder. "You're fucking crazy, brother."

  "Not crazy." Rachel touched his hand. "He loves you, that's all. Just like I do."

  "That just makes you both crazy," Ace retorted. But he curled his fingers around hers and held on as Cruz settled on the bed.

  When they were under the blankets with Ace between them, Cruz laid his hand over theirs. "Your turn, Rachel. Tell us something true."

  She didn't stop to censor herself. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life holding back, or being scared to say how I really feel in case it's too much for either of you. I want to be me."

  Ace tightened his grip. "I'm going to fuck up a lot, because I don't know how the hell to do this. I feel like an asshole asking you both to put up with it."

  "You didn't," Rachel shot back. "We decided we wanted to, because you mean so much. It's a choice. Don't take that away--from yourself or from us."

  He took a deep breath and turned to face her, his forehead almost touching hers. "Ask me again. Ask me where I came from."

  It still hurt, the way he'd brushed off the question before. "Will you answer me this time?"

&
nbsp; "I'll answer any question you ask."

  He always had--technically. Giving her tiny bits of the truth while keeping most of what mattered hidden. "Where do you come from?"

  Ace caught her hand and guided it to his side, over the tattoo Mad had translated for her all those years ago. "En el orgullo, fuerza. Strength in pride. Eladio Zamora plucked me, Jared, and Gia off the streets. He trained us. Taught us different things. Jared and Gia were brilliant, cold. They could make people feel without feeling. But I was always..." A short, pained laugh. "I was messy."

  In every way, maybe, good and bad. "Is that why you left Eden?"

  "I didn't, not soon enough. I wanted to be amazing, like Jared. I wanted..." He let his hand fall away, leaving hers splayed across his ribs. "It's some kind of twisted. The closest thing I had to a father was my damn pimp, and I couldn't even make him proud. Guess I should be glad I didn't end up like Gia, half in love with him."

  "If he wasn't proud of you for using your heart to find your way, then he was the crazy one." Rachel closed the distance between them and pressed her forehead to his. "And you are amazing. I wish you could see that."

  "I'm sorry." Ace's voice cracked, and he drew in a breath. "I'm a bastard. And a fuckup. And a temperamental artist."

  He was all those things--and none of it was an excuse. "You told me once that letting someone who had hurt me back into my life made me too brave for my own good."

  "Because I'm a coward." He closed his eyes. "It's been so long since I wanted someone to really see me, and you're both so good. I thought I could walk away before you realized I wasn't."

  The words scraped her already raw emotions. "No matter what it did to us? How much it hurt?"

  "I thought you'd get over it. You had each other."

  "You panicked," Cruz said quietly. "And I get it. Do you think I never watched the two of you and wondered? You had history I'd never understand."

  Ace winced. "No, but--"

  "Do you think Rachel never watched us and wondered if she'd always be on the outside because brotherhood matters so much to O'Kanes?"

  A pause. Ace drew back to study her face in the dim light. "Did you?"

  "Of course I did." They had built a friendship and a connection in no time at all, and it terrified her. "Maybe I still wonder. Sometimes it feels like I'm a complication you don't need."

  Cruz slid his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers a soothing, comforting warmth. "That was the trade-off, Ace. You could have had us both, all of us. All that filthy sex, all that love. But we pay in honesty. And if you can't do that, all we end up with is heartbreak and jealousy."

  Ace swallowed hard. "Could have had?"

  The moment of truth, where she had to decide whether to open her heart again or shut him out for good. In the end, there was only one choice she could live with, one chance for the kind of happiness she'd glimpsed.

  "Can have," she whispered. "No secrets--you promised me that too, Ace. Remember?"

  "I remember. I'm sorry, Rae. I'm so fucking sorry."

  So was she. As much as he loved to call her fearless, she'd been anything but. And that terror--the terror that Ace was going to leave her--had kept her from loving him the only way he deserved. Fully, madly. Completely.

  "So am I," she whispered. "I'm sorry I hurt you. But we'll fix it." She caught Ace's chin and stared into his eyes. "You have to promise to try, Santana. I mean it. If you can't believe in us, I'd rather hear it now."

  Ace stared back, and he still looked scared, but there was more than fear in his eyes now. There was hope. "Faith in you is never the problem. Not until you tell me I'm worthy of you. That's the part I'm trying to figure out."

  For once, she didn't try to hide, either. There was no guarding her heart, there never had been, because between Ace and Cruz, there was no part of it they didn't touch. "Then trust me. If I'm so damned special, believe me."

  "And me." Cruz rose up on one elbow to stare down at them both. "But I want more than that. No more collars. No more rules. If you can't believe words, I'll say it with ink."

  Stunned, Rachel blinked up at him. It was insane to jump to ink when Ace could barely bring himself to hear them...or was it? Maybe he needed tangible proof instead of reassurances, and there was nothing more tangible than a mark.

  Ace watched almost warily as Cruz brushed his thumb over Rachel's cheek before pressing it to Ace's lips. "But before you agree, you need to know I'm done denying what I want. Both of you are mine. And if it comes down to ink, Rachel isn't the only one I want wearing my marks."

  Heat flooded her at the prospect--but there were so many ways and reasons to call someone yours. Not about dominance, but belonging. "We'll mark each other."

  "Ink is for life," Ace said hoarsely. "You won't be able to get away from me. Even when I'm an asshole."

  Cruz made a rumbling sound that was almost a laugh. "You're always an asshole. Maybe we just like you that way."

  Because he was so many other things, too--passionate, dedicated, fiercely loyal. "You don't need to change, Ace, just stop hiding. Let us in."

  Ace slipped his fingers behind her head and tugged, dragging her into a kiss with Cruz's thumb between their lips. His tongue touched hers, wet and rough, then retreated. She followed, desperate for another taste of him to sate the hunger gnawing at her. Not for sex, not exactly, but for this sort of open intimacy. A closeness she'd craved for years.

  Then Cruz's fingers were in her hair, too, hauling her back. Not far, just enough for him to claim Ace's mouth, and Rachel's hunger spiked. She watched, heat pulsing low in her body at the quick flashes of tongue, and Ace's low, rasping growl.

  So she kissed him again, sliding her lips over his jaw, his throat, up to the spot below his ear.

  "Let us love you," Cruz rumbled, cupping Rachel's head. "You wouldn't let me hide from who I was."

  "Because you're fucking perfect," Ace groaned. "And I'm--"

  "A hero," Cruz interrupted, raising his head to catch Ace's chin in his hand. "You took a knife in the gut for me, and Jesus Christ, Santana, if you ever try that again, I swear to God..."

  "You'd kidnap another doctor and put me back together." Ace twisted free of Cruz's hand, turning to nuzzle Rachel's cheek. "I get stabbed, and he still one-ups me in the hero department. You got your saint, Rae. Just...promise me you need a sinner, too."

  "I always have," she whispered. "More than you know."

  Ace kissed her again, dragging her close enough for his denim-clad erection to grind against her hip. He hissed out a breath and seized her lower lip between his teeth. "How much sinning are you gonna let me do?"

  She slipped her hands under his shirt, up over his miraculously, blessedly unmarred skin. "Use your imagination."

  "No." Cruz grasped the edge of Ace's shirt and helped her pull it up. "Ace isn't the only one with an imagination. I think this time we get to use ours."

  She caught his gaze, then his meaning. Ace was accustomed to seeing himself as the seducer, the corrupting force bringing them together. The one they turned to for guidance in the heat of the moment, and he filled the role because he felt it was expected of him, even when he wanted something different.

  Not this time.

  As Cruz dropped the shirt off the side of the bed, Rachel came to her knees and pushed Ace to his back on the mattress. "Don't move," she whispered.

  His eyelids drooped as he watched her, his gaze hot. Hungry. "Dirty girl."

  "That's right." She straddled his thigh, pushing the oversize T-shirt she wore--Cruz's shirt--up around her hips.

  Cruz stayed stretched out alongside Ace, but his hand slipped down, lingering over the place where newly healed skin marred a vivid tattoo done in black and gray and vivid red--a skull and roses and a dove that was missing a wing now.

  Then his fingers crept lower, grazing the button on Ace's fly. Cruz toyed with it and smiled up at her. "Take off that shirt, sweetheart."

  She obeyed, but lingered over the task long enough t
o tease all three of them with a slow unveiling of skin.

  "She's beautiful, isn't she?" Cruz said, popping Ace's jeans open. "And you walked away. You think you could have survived watching her from across the room, never getting to touch her?"

  Ace tangled his fingers in the blanket, his chest lifting with his harsh breath. "No."

  "Good. Because there are all sorts of things I'd miss." Rachel brushed one hand over the growing bulge of Ace's erection and trailed her other hand up to the hollow of his throat. She stroked his skin, marveling at the way his pulse jumped, then laid her fingers on his lower lip. "Your smile the most, I think."

  His lips parted beneath her touch. He licked her fingertip, growled, and caught it between his teeth. The spark of it licked through her, too, left her fidgeting on his thigh.

  Cruz dropped his hand to cover hers, squeezing it around Ace's cock. "What else would you have missed, sweetheart?"

  Whispers and groans, hot breath and soft touches. Both of them, sighing her name and each other's. Silent passion. Rough caresses. The mad, heady rush of arousal, not tempered by affection and tenderness, but stronger because of it.

  This. She didn't realize she'd said it aloud until Cruz guided her hand up, sliding her fingers along her inner thigh and higher.

  "Show him," he commanded, coaxing her to cup her pussy. "Show him how hot you get, even just looking at him."

  She took over the movement, parting her outer lips to tease her clit, and closed her eyes at the shock of pleasure that raced through her. Then she heard the rasp of a zipper, and opened her eyes again just in time to see Cruz wrap his hand around Ace's dick.

  "That's all it takes," Cruz whispered against Ace's cheek. "She loves you when you're filthy. We all love you when you're filthy. But that's not all we love about you."

  Ace groaned, thrusting up into Cruz's hand. But when he reached for Rachel, Cruz released his cock and grabbed his hand, forcing it back to the bed. "No, you get to watch."

  "Fucking hell," Ace hissed, clutching at the blanket. His gaze dropped to Rachel's fingers. "I want to get her off."