Ace of Spades (13 page)

         
I shook the fuzzy stars from my vision,
then
glared up
at the fucker.

         
“That’s better,” he purred, stepping forward to unzip his pants. “I want to
look into those baby blues while that gorgeous mouth all those little girls are
always panting after sucks me off. You get me off good with that pretty little
mouth of yours and you won’t have to take it up the ass tonight.”

         
Tugging the front of his underwear down, he flopped his huge limp dick in my
face. The disgusting thing twitched, filling with blood from arousal at the
closeness, at the prospect of what William thought would soon follow. But I had
a surprise for him.

         
I leaned closer, my hand trailing under the couch cushion, searching. William
grasped my chin, forcing my face up to meet his gaze.

         
“You bite me and I’ll kill you,” he whispered, caressing the skin of my face
like a lover. “We clear?”

         
I nodded, biting my tongue until I tasted blood.

         
“Good. Now get to work. Make your new daddy proud.”

         
Sucking in a deep breath, I closed my eyes and took him in my mouth. He shoved
his dick clear down my throat, gagging me until vomit filled my mouth. Just
when I thought I might die, my fingers closed around cold, hard salvation
beneath the couch cushion.

         
William moaned in pleasure and I glanced up to find his eyes closed. Perfect.
Without a thought, I jammed the kitchen knife into his gut with all my
strength. William gasped and gaped at me in surprise, but I‘d already pulled
the knife back and embedded it into the flesh of his abdomen again.
And again and again.

         
Gasping for breath, William crumbled to the floor. But I followed him to the ground
and kept stabbing, ignoring the blood spattering on my face with each strike of
the blade.
One for the pain.
One for
the indignity.
One for my stolen innocence.
One for my stolen future.
One for my clueless mother… I sank
the knife into William over and over, relishing the feel of the man dying
beneath my efforts. The son of a bitch deserved to suffer.
Deserved
to die.

         
Long after William stilled beneath my assault, my hand finally stilled as well.
The knife fell to the floor as I sank back onto the couch. Clutching my
blood-spattered face in my blood- stained hands, I sat in silence on the couch.

         
The television flashed bright lights and colors on the scene as the program
continued, oblivious to the mayhem that had transpired right in front of it.
Angry sobs wracked my body. Not for William. No, the bastard got what was
coming to him. I cried for myself. For everything I’d lost, thanks to the vile
man. I knew I was about to lose a whole lot more.

         
How could I tell the world that I, Jackson
Blackner
,
teen heartthrob and talented musician was some dude’s bitch? That I had been
violated in every way possible?
Raped.
I couldn’t even
make my mouth form the word. No one could know. I had to bear my shame in
private.

         
Unsure how long I sat in silent contemplation, glaring at the bloody lump of
dead flesh that had ruined my life, I at last rose from the couch. It was time
to face the music. I would pay for what I’d done, but it was well worth the
cost.

         
There
were no words.
Melody fought down the rise of bile in her throat. It
hurt her to hear Jackson say the words. She could only imagine how much harder
on him it was to say them. She wanted to wrap herself around him, to protect
him from the past, but it was too late. All she could do was love him in the
present and try to heal the wounds left by the ugly past.

         
“I knew I could never be with you after that,” Jackson said quietly, his voice
raw with pain. “You were everything good in my life. No way could I touch you
with these blood-stained hands. No way could kiss you with this polluted mouth.
I didn’t deserve you, not after that.”

         
“Oh, J,” Mel cried, fighting back tears.

         
Tipping her head back, Melody pressed her lips to his. With soft kisses, she
plied his beautiful lips, coercing him to open to her. When he surrendered to
her tender assault, Melody delved her tongue into the sweetness of his mouth.
With her kisses she told him how little his past mattered to her. How she would
do anything to erase it.

         
A drop of moisture wetted Melody’s cheek and she drew back to see tears
streaming down Jackson’s face. Cradling his head against her chest, she wiped
away each tear with gentle tenderness. As far as she knew, the proud man had
only cried one other time in his life. And the sight made her heart hurt. He
reminded her so much of that broken-hearted little boy, so brave, yet so
fragile.

         
They were ten-years-old when Jackson had learned his dad would not come home
from the Middle East. And Melody had held him then as she held him now, wishing
with all her heart she could take away his pain.

         
There, in her arms, he let go of eight years of pent up emotion and hidden
anguish. He cried in agonized silence, his tears falling with unashamed
release. Stroking his hair, Melody cradled him close to her heart as his
breathing became slow and even. He’d found sleep and respite, no matter how
brief.

         
No wonder he’d drowned
himself
in drugs. He’d
medicated a pain he should never have had to bear. Melody hoped she could help
him heal from this pain as she had his father’s death. But this pain was
different.

         
Though time heals all wounds, some wounds leave bigger scars than others. Mel
wished she could find a way to erase the deep, painful scars left by abuse on
Jackson’s heart and mind. He deserved so much more than he’d been given. And
she would do anything to heal him. But even if she couldn’t, even if he was
damaged beyond repair, she would love him just the same.
Scars
and all.

Chapter 12

marksman

         
The next day, Jackson recruited Zane, Lenny, and a handful of Lenny’s security
team to help clear her stuff out of the apartment she’d shared with Richard.
Jackson sat quietly beside her in the backseat of his chauffeured Rolls Royce,
holding her hand and staring out the window as Zane drove them down to San
Diego.

         
Melody wasn’t sure if he regretted telling her the truth about his past or if
he was embarrassed over the tears he’d shed, but he remained distant, deep in
thought.

         
“J, about last night…” Melody started. “I-I’m sorry.”

         
He squeezed her hand and turned to offer her a soft smile. “Don’t be. I’ve
carried that secret for far too long. Now that it’s out there, now that you
know the truth, I can breathe again.”

         
“Oh, you were so
quiet,
I thought maybe you were
upset.”

         
He shook his head. “No. I just have a lot on my mind.”

         
“Anything I can help with?”

         
His lips tipped into a slight frown. “I’m afraid not. They’re issues that I
have to work out.”

         
Giving his hand a squeeze in return, Melody offered him a reassuring smile. “Well,
I’m here for you, if you need me.”

         
“I know. Thanks.”

         
The rest of the commute passed in amicable silence. When Zane sidled the Rolls
up to the curb in front of Melody’s old home, Melody was surprised to find a
moving truck already parked in the driveway.

         
“Oh, good, Lenny’s guys got you a truck, Jackson said as they climbed out of
the car.

         
“How much stuff do you think I have?”  Melody laughed.

         
Jackson shrugged.

         
She shook her head in amusement. “Let’s just get this over with before Richard
comes home.”

         
Jackson nodded his agreement and followed her up the drive.

         
With Melody in the lead, Jackson, Lenny and a half dozen burly,
rough-around-the-edges men headed into Richard’s house. From there, Melody
pointed and the guys packed.
Except for Jackson.

         
Melody arched a brow at him as he pulled out a pair of scissors.

         
“What on earth are you doing with those?” Melody asked from beneath arched
brows.

         
Jackson grinned. “You’ll see.”

         
He picked up a framed picture of her and Richard together in Hawaii. “You’re
mine and I won’t let that dickhead have any part of you.” Quickly detaching the
back, he removed the picture and carefully cut Melody out of it.

         
“Oops. The scissors slipped” he said with a grin, as he cut off Richard’s head.

         
Melody just shook her head and went back to supervising the packing of her
things, but couldn’t hold back the small smile Jackson’s words elicited. She
was
his.
The thought made her heart sing.

         
After several hours of packing, carting boxes to the truck, and Jackson
mutilating every photographed memory of her past with Richard, Jackson glanced
at his phone and turned to her.

         
“Lenny and I have an errand to run, but we’ll be back in a bit. The guys will
stay with you in the meantime.”

         
Melody glanced around at the group of probable ex-cons and tried to find some
comfort in that.
Yeah, not so much.
But if Jackson
trusted them, she trusted guessed she did too.

         
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

         
Jackson pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “Count on it.”

A

         
There the asshole was
. Jackson and Lenny waited for him in the parking
garage outside his law firm. The bastard actually whistled as he strolled to
his shiny, new Mercedes.
Of course, he did.
It’s not like he’d broken up
with his girlfriend the night before or anything. From the looks of things, the
bastard took the break up pretty well.

         
“You know… My father was never really around,” Jackson said quietly from the
shadows.

         
Jolting in surprise, Richard whirled around at the sound of his voice. The
bastard had the good sense to look frightened.
Good
. He should be.

         
“W-w-what do you want?” Richard sputtered, scanning the darkness with nervous
eyes.

         
Jackson ignored the question and continued his story. “Even before his plane
went down, he was never there.” Jackson shifted closer to the place Richard
stood and stepped out into the light. “But for all his absence in my life, my
old man still taught me one important rule.”

         
Richard’s eyes widened as Jackson’s identity registered. His lip curled into a
sneer.
“How to be white trash, even with shitloads of money?”

         
Jackson inched closer, only stopping when he stood eye-to-eye with the man.
Well, eye-to-chin, but Jackson was willing to stoop to the asshole’s level for
this. “No,” he said quietly. “Never hit a girl.”

         
Throwing his whole weight behind the punch, Jackson drove his fist into Richard’s
left eye. Richard stumbled backward beneath the blow, falling back against the
side of his car. Jackson caught him by the lapels of his jacket and jerked him
to his feet.

         
“Now you listen to me, you worthless piece of shit. If you ever touch Melody
again, if you ever so much as look at her or even think of her, I
will
kill
you.”

         
“How dare you threaten me,” Richard gasped in outrage. “I can have you thrown
back in jail before you can so much as say assault.”

         
Jackson chuckled. “Go ahead and give it a go. I can buy any alibi I need. But
let’s get one thing straight -- that wasn’t a threat.
That
was a
promise.”      

         
Releasing his hold on Richard’s jacket, Jackson allowed the other man to fall
to his feet. “I killed the last man who crossed me. I wouldn’t recommend being
the next.”

         
Scowling in disgust, Jackson turned to leave, but Richard’s words held him in
place.

         
“How long do you think it’ll take before she’s tired of slumming with trash
like you?” The bastard paused, rubbing his jaw and regarding Jackson from
beneath arched brows. “That’s all she’s doing.
Living
vicariously.
Fucking a rock star.
A girl like
Melody isn’t cut out for your lifestyle. She’ll be back,” Richard vowed,
taunting Jackson.

         
“And when she does come crawling back, I’ll make her beg on her knees.” He
licked his bloodied lips. “Mmm, Melody was always best on her knees---”

         
Before the son of a bitch could finish his crude intimation, Jackson slammed
his fist into his face again.
And again.
His knuckles
ached from the impact, but it hurt so
good
. With the
drugs in his system, he felt invincible. He could easily kill the son of bitch
with his bare hands.

         
“Shut up or I’ll kill you right now,” Jackson growled, driving his fist into
the bastard’s face again. “No one talks about Mel that way.”

         
Lenny stepped out of the shadows. “Jack, that’s enough.”

         
Jackson couldn’t hear him over the roar in his mind. He wanted to make the man
bleed. He wanted him to hurt for hurting Mel.

         
Lenny caught his arm and dragged him away from Richard-the-dickhead. “You can’t
kill him, Jack. I know you want to, and the asshole deserves it, but you can’t.
He’s not worth it.”

         
Jackson glared at his friend. He was right. He wanted to beat the living shit
out of the prick for what he’d done to Mel, but it wouldn’t get him anywhere,
but back in prison. He needed to keep a level head.

         
“Fine.”
He pinned the bastard with a needle-sharp
gaze. “But remember what I said. I’d volunteer for death row if it meant
keeping you from Mel.”

         
Richard curled his upper lip at him in a disgusted sneer. “That’s fine. I won’t
want her when you’re done with her anyway. Unlike you, I don’t do sloppy
seconds or, in this case, thirds.”

         
Jackson ground his teeth together at the insinuation that Mel was ‘sloppy’
anything and reminded himself that the asshole wasn’t worth it.   

         
“Good,” he tossed back. “Save yourself the trouble. I’ll never be done with
Mel.
Never
.”

         
Richard smirked. “Maybe, but eventually she’ll be done with
you
.”

         
Jackson flashed him a devil-may-care smile.
“Nah.
I’m
bound and determined to make sure that doesn’t happen. She’s mine and I’m
playing for keeps this time.”

A

         
When Jackson returned to the house, he had a new spring in his step. Melody
wondered where he’d gone, but minded her own business. She probably didn’t want
to know.

         
Lenny’s crew had finished loading the majority of her stuff and she was down to
skimming each room for stragglers.
Which was a good thing,
since Richard would be home any minute.

         
Not that she was scared. Jackson and his guys could protect her well enough.
She just had no desire to see the man again. He’d hit her, spit on her, and
called her a whore. Yeah, she wouldn’t spit on him if he were on fire.

         
“We good here?”
Jackson asked her, coming up behind
her to wrap his arms around her. Melody leaned into his long, lean frame,
soaking up the feel of him.

         
“Yeah, we’re good. There’s nothing here for me anymore,” she said, tipping her
head back to smile up at him.

         
“Good. Let’s get the hell out of here.” Jackson pressed a quick kiss to the top
of Melody’s head and led her by the hand out the front door.

         
Melody stopped in her tracks, lifting his hand for inspection. His knuckles
were raw and swollen, with early signs of bruising.

         
“Jackson, what did you do?” Melody gasped.

         
“Nothing.”

         
“How am I supposed to keep you out of trouble if you leave me to go looking for
it?”

         
Jackson
shrugged,
all wide-blue-eyed innocence. “Oh, I’m
sorry. You wanted to watch?” he joked. “I’ll remember that the next time some
shmuck
needs his ass kicked.”

         
“Please tell me you didn’t,” Mel moaned.

         
The resulting grin was shameless. “
Melly
-Belly, I’ll
tell you anything you want to hear.”

         
Melody sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”