Chapter 45 Ace
Ace
“Didn’t think you’d have a bitchy side,” D notes as we walk side by side to his car.
Bristling, I ask, “Excuse me?”
With a tilt of his chin toward the house, he responds, “That back there? Kinda bitchy.” Somehow, he finds a way to sound amused yet disappointed at the same time. And I might’ve detected a hint of pride too, but maybe that’s wishful thinking on my part.
When we get to his black sedan, he opens the passenger side, letting me slide in. Before he can close the door, I defend myself. “I wasn’t being bitchy. I was being honest. He doesn’t own me, D.”
He doesn’t. I’ll never be owned or controlled by anyone again. I refuse to. Even when it hurts someone I’m really starting to care about. Someone who dropped everything to take care of me. Who let me sleep in his bed last night. Who wants to keep me safe.
Dammit, I’m kind of a bitch for snapping at him.
With a look of pity, he shakes his head. “Trust me, Ace. He knows that, I know that, and you know that. If anything, I’d say it’s the other way around.” He closes the door before I have a chance to reply then walks around to his side and gets behind the wheel.
Exasperated, I continue the conversation he’s clearly trying to end. “Then why would he try to use his authority on me like that? He can’t just order me around. It hits too close to home and how I was raised. I won’t step into another relationship like that. I can’t.”
He starts the car then backs out of the driveway and pulls onto the main street while I anxiously wait for his response.
“You’re not the only one that was affected by their upbringing, Ace.
His mom was murdered when he was a little kid.
Collateral damage for a deal gone wrong.
After that, his dad locked Regina up, never letting her out of the estate because he was so terrified something would happen to her too.
Then he died, and King took over the role as the head of the family.
The first thing he did was give Regina some space.
He wanted to give her the freedom she was craving and look what happened.
She’s been taken too. You can’t blame him for being scared to let you out of his sight.
” He glances over at me and scans my face before turning his eyes back to the road. “Especially when you look like that.”
Raising my hand, I gingerly touch the inflamed skin, flinching when I put too much pressure on my cheekbone.
“See what I mean? It doesn’t feel good to have your face beaten to a pulp, and it doesn’t feel good to look at it and know it’s your fault, either.”
“It’s not his fault,” I argue. “If anything, it’s mine. I shouldn’t have entered that tournament.”
With a sigh, he gives me the side-eye. “No. You shouldn’t have. Kingston warned you it was a bad idea, but don’t beat yourself up about it. We can’t change the past.”
“You’re right. We can’t. How did Burlone find out King and I were a thing, though?
I thought we’d been careful.” I voice the question out loud as I stare blankly through the passenger window.
Then it hits me. Before the tournament, Jack confronted me about my relationship in the middle of Sin, Burlone’s casino.
Jack blew Rule #8 into tiny little pieces.
Don’t discuss private shit in public. It’s bound to screw you over. And it did.
Diece’s gruff voice brings me back to the present. “I don’t know how he found out, but it doesn’t really matter now. What matters is keeping you safe. That’s all Kingston is trying to do. Can you cut him a little slack?”
Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I watch as the trees whirl by in a blur. I don’t think D understands what that slack would mean for me, but I try to look at it from Kingston’s perspective.
Hearing about Kingston’s mom breaks my heart.
I can’t even imagine the guilt that would accompany his sister’s disappearance with a history like his.
And D might have a point about Kingston feeling guilty for Burlone’s little goon’s visit with me too.
I know it isn’t his fault. But I also know that Kingston doesn’t excuse situations like that without taking responsibility for every minor detail, regardless of his part in it.
He knew the risks as much as I did, and we both underestimated our enemy.
If Kingston was hurt and there was a possibility that my actions played a factor in his pain, you better damn well believe I’d be beating myself up for it.
And I can only imagine he’s doing the same for me.
After a few moments, I whisper, “Yeah. I can try to cut him some slack.”
“Thank you.”
My eyes widen in surprise as the sentiment leaves his lips. I’m slowly learning how hard please and thank you’s are you to come by with these two men.
After soaking it up for a few seconds, I murmur, “Speaking of thanks…I want to thank you, again, for coming to my rescue last night.”
Maybe I’m imagining things, but I swear I can see his olive skin turn a shade redder under his stubbled cheeks. “Don’t mention it.”
We pull up to the side of the building near the decrepit parking lot of my apartment building, and D puts the car in park.
As I grab the door handle, I say, “I’ll be out in ten.”
“Nope. No deal. I’m coming in.”
I roll my eyes before giving D a pointed stare. “Seriously? It’s not like the bad guy is still hiding in the shadows. It’d be highly unoriginal if he tried the same thing twice.”
His mouth quirking at my terrible joke, D opens the driver’s side door and explains, “Consider me your very own shadow any time you’re out of the estate. Wherever you go, I go. You argue? I tie you in your room. Capiche?”
“You mean King’s room?”
“Yeah. Hell, I could kill two birds with one stone and say it’s his birthday present.”
Snorting, I open the door and toss over my shoulder, “Whatever.”
Packing is fast. I don’t own much, and I’m a little surprised how few things I really need. Within ten minutes, I have a small duffle bag thrown over my shoulder as we make our way back to the car.
When I start walking across the parking lot in the opposite direction of D’s sedan, he calls out, “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to someone real fast.”
Within seconds, he’s already caught up and matches his pace with my own, striding up next to me. “And who’s that?”
“My friend,” I offer. Or one of them, anyway. I still need to figure out how to reach Gigi and tell her what’s going on while demanding an explanation from her too.
Looking around the empty parking lot, his brows furrow, but he doesn’t comment as I approach the heap of human curled into a ball near the dumpster. I squat down and shake him softly.
“Hey, Eddie.”
Eddie startles before his weathered face makes an appearance, peeking up at me. “Hey, Ace. Where you been? I was worried ‘bout you. Stayed up all night waitin’, but ya never came home. I’m sure sorry I dozed off. I just couldn’t keep my eyes open for a second longer.”
The remorse in his voice makes me smile.
“It’s fine, Eddie. You need your rest. I just wanted to tell you that I’m going to go away for a little while, okay?”
Eddie glances around me, noticing the giant bear a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Who’s that?” Eddie asks, suspiciously. “And what happened to yer face?”
He might be a crazy old man, but I kind of love the protective part of him that insists on looking out for me. Resting my hand against his hunched shoulder, I try to calm him down before he tries to go all Rambo on a man twice his size.
“That’s my friend. His name is Diece. Don’t worry, Eddie; he’s a good guy.”
“He looks familiar. Have I seen ya ‘round here?” he calls to D.
D takes a step closer to keep Eddie from shouting, then answers, “I don’t think so.”
With squinty eyes, Eddie continues his assessment. “Nah, I think I’ve seen you around. Wasn’t you here the other day lookin’ for Ace?”
“No.” D’s gaze bounces between Eddie and me as he voices his response with a sudden bite I’m not used to.
“I coulda sworn—”
“It wasn’t me. But if you see him lurking around again, give me a call.” D hands him a business card and a few quarters before turning toward his car and calling, “Come on, Ace. We gotta go.”
I watch his back as he retreats before waving at Eddie. “He’s right. I’d better get going. I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Sure thing, Ace. Sure thing.”