Chapter 26 Ace
Ace
“So, are you the one that’s been following me today?
” My voice sounds rusty. It’s probably from the nerves.
A few feet ahead of me is the giant who confronted Jack in the casino.
The giant whose hands are inked as they swing by his sides.
The giant who has a cold stare as he scans the area like it’s a natural habit.
The guy who, I have no doubt, has killed before.
Probably more times than I can count. I cough softly in an attempt to clear my voice as the cool night breeze brushes across my cheeks.
I’d rushed out of the Charlette like a bat out of hell only to turn around thirty seconds later to find the giant following behind me while adjusting his suit.
“Naw.” The behemoth shrugs. “That’d be Reggie.”
Who the hell is Reggie?
“Oh, I thought you looked a little familiar.” Looking closer, I take in his eyes, mouth, and nose, but I can’t put my finger on where I’ve seen him before. It’s probably just from my time at the Charlette. That’s all. “So, where’s Reggie?”
“He was on break when the fucker started bothering you, but Kingston refused to wait a second longer before rescuing your ass, and he’s not ready to put a bigger target on your back by claiming you in front of so many witnesses, which left me to save the day.
” His sarcasm is thick as though he can’t believe the ridiculousness of the situation he just found himself in––namely babysitting me.
Grimacing, I tuck my thumbs into my back pockets while following my new bodyguard toward Dottie’s. However, there’s one term there that made my ears perk up like a little bunny.
Claiming me? Is that even possible? He won’t even tell me what he’s feeling.
I can’t imagine him making a statement like that in front of every eye witness in the casino.
Diece is probably just blowing things out of proportion.
He seems like someone who might appreciate the occasional dramatic flair, right?
However, curiosity is still getting the better of me, and I can’t help but ask, “So, Kingston saw that, huh?”
That same cold stare connects with mine. “Are you asking if he witnessed that asshat touching you?”
My cheeks burn, along with my forearm where he touched me, as I give him a single nod.
“Yeah. He did. You’re lucky your little friend is still breathing.”
A lump the size of a golf ball gets lodged in my throat, but I suck my lips into my mouth and keep walking on my merry way like he didn’t just scare the crap out of me.
Like Jack’s nickname for Kingston didn’t just flash through my mind.
Like the fact that I’m kind of, sort of, maybe dating a mafia boss isn’t a big deal at all.
Nope. Just another day in the life of Acely Mezzerich.
Due to my new bodyguard’s massive size, I can barely see around his ripped back as I follow in his steps. His feet slapping against the cold pavement is the only sound that accompanies his not-so-subtle threat.
“He’s not my friend,” I mutter under my breath, feeling the need to defend myself.
“Sure he isn’t,” the giant returns before giving me a quick glance over his massive shoulder. “He likes you, ya know.”
“Who?”
Jack or Kingston? The guilt swirls in my stomach that I even have to ask that question.
If Gigi could see me right now, she’d be laughing her ass off.
Two good looking guys who might be interested in me?
Especially when I’m only interested in the mob boss who could kill the other guy with a flick of his wrist? I shake my head. Ridiculous.
“Both,” he grunts, answering my question. His legs eat up the distance with ease while I struggle to keep up with his pace as he adds, “I’m Diece, by the way. You can call me D.”
“Ace,” I return, speaking to his back. “Nice to meet you, D.”
“Wish I could say the same.”
With furrowed brows, I mutter, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I have a feeling you’re going to be trouble.”
Should I be offended? I mean, who says something like that? I don’t even know this guy, yet he’s already made up his mind about me?
I march forward.
“How am I going to be trouble? No offense, Diece, but I wasn’t the one who approached either of those guys.” I point back to the casino where I assume Jack and Kingston are still at. “Jack is a fellow blackjack player, and Kingston asked if I could help him with something. That’s it.”
Diece huffs out a deep breath but doesn’t bother to reply, so I press on as I stomp closer to him.
“Don’t you huff at me! It’s not like I’m toying with either of them or planned on starting anything in the first place. Jack is barely an acquaintance, and Kingston is––”
My mouth slams shut.
Shit. What is Kingston? I’d kill for an explanation, yet I know I won’t get one no matter how hard I try to dissect our situation, let alone confiding in his soldier in hopes that he might know something I don’t know.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I scrunch up my face and bite out, “You know what? Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
My silence seems to be enough to finally grab the jerk’s attention. Lazily, he scans me up and down.
After a few seconds, he lifts his chin and says, “I can see why they like you.”
Feeling exasperated, I joke, “Then can you tell me? ‘Cause I don’t get it. And who says they like me anyway?”
With a dry laugh, he stops walking long enough to let me catch up to him. Once I’ve reached his side, he continues heading to our destination at a slower speed, and I appreciate the opportunity to catch my breath instead of chasing him around.
“People don’t talk much in this line of business,” he confides.
“If they do, they wind up dead. Instead, we use our instincts, and we watch. From what I’ve seen?
You’re smart. Cute. Sarcastic. And you scream innocence louder than a damn siren.
It’s no wonder you have Kingston wrapped around your dainty little finger. ”
“I don’t know about the whole innocence part,” I mumble, keeping my head down while completely ignoring the having Kingston wrapped around my finger part. Apparently, Diece is delusional.
He scoffs. “What? Because of your past? No offense, sweetheart, but just because you had a shitty upbringing doesn’t make you a cynic. In fact, I think that’s why you appeal so much to him.”
Heart racing at the mention of my upbringing, I whisper, “What do you know about my past?”
“Who do you think wrote up most of your file, sweetheart?” His brow is quirked in a silent challenge, leaving me speechless.
He can’t know everything. If he did, he would’ve told Kingston, and Kingston wouldn’t have asked if I was a virgin.
He would’ve already known the truth. My hands are shaky as we round the corner, but I can’t find the drive to continue a conversation I wish could be wiped from his memory.
Sensing my uneasiness, D stops near the lower steps of Dottie’s Diner and slides his palm into his suit pocket before pulling out a cigarette.
“Mind if I wait outside?”
The step almost brings us to the same height as I look over at him. “Nope.” I take the stairs two at a time before turning around and adding, “And thanks for not killing Jack.”
With a wink, he gives the cigarette pack a tap against the palm of his hand. “The night’s still young, sweetheart.”
There’s something about him. I don’t know what it is.
Maybe it’s his crooked grin. Maybe it’s the big burly arms that make me almost feel safe.
Maybe there’s a sense of camaraderie I feel toward him.
That he didn’t write the gory details of my past for his boss to read with a glass of whiskey in his hand.
I don’t know, but I come to a conclusion regardless.
One that would probably kill him if he knew what I was thinking.
“What are you thinking, sweetheart?” he asks, reading me like a freaking book while placing a cigarette into his mouth and reaching for the lighter.
I shake my head. “You don’t wanna know.”
With a laugh, he takes another pull from his cigarette before saying, “Well, now I gotta know.”
“You really want to know?” I press in disbelief.
Please say no. Please say no.
“Yeah.”
Rule #3: If something feels fishy, it probably is.
Trust your instincts. And my instincts are humming on low right now.
There’s no threat. No malice toward me. There might’ve been a smidge of it when we left the casino, but after our conversation, I think he came to a conclusion about me just like I did about him.
With a grin, I confide, “I think you’re nothing but a cuddly little puppy in a Doberman’s body.”
He throws his head back as a deep laugh tumbles out of him. “Puppy, huh? Well, don’t tell Kingston, alright?”
Winking, I quip, “The night’s still young. Will you be out here when I get back?”
“No. It’s not a very good idea for people to see you hanging around the Romano’s second in command. Reggie will keep an eye on you though, okay?”
Disappointment sits in my stomach at the thought of missing another one of these conversations, but I nod anyway. “Okay. It was nice to meet you, D.”
“You too, sweetheart,” he grunts before releasing a puff of acrid smoke from his mouth. Obviously, I’ve been dismissed, and if I didn’t know any better, I might be offended because of it.
Good thing I can see past his gruff exterior, right?
“Hey, Dottie!”
“Hey, doll! Your usual?” Dottie asks while wiping up an empty table littered with plates, used napkins, and half-empty glasses of juice.
“Sure, thanks.” I take a seat at Gigi’s and my corner booth before glancing out the window to see Diece hidden in the shadows.
A few minutes later, Dottie places my order on the table.
“Thanks, Dottie. Has Gigi been in yet today?” I want to give her crap for disappearing last night, and maybe even beg for a few details about why she left in such a hurry.
Unfortunately, Dottie shakes her head. “Sorry, darlin’. She disappeared out the back a few minutes before you walked in. Said there was an emergency she forgot about. Told me to tell ya she’ll see ya tomorrow, though.”
Shoulders slumping, I reach for the ketchup and squirt some onto my eggs while trying to hide my disappointment.
“Thanks for letting me know.”
“Anytime.”
As she leaves me to enjoy my eggs alone, I can’t help the questions that arise.
What the hell is going on with you, Gigi?