Beware 2: The Comeback (14 page)

“I’m just a little worried about you, man.”

“Don’t be.”

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

I try my hardest not to grit my teeth. “Fine.”

He sighs, placing his empty bottle down. “I just… it’s fucking crazy, the shit they did to you, man. I’m still trying to figure out who it could’ve been. You worked with so many people…”

“Yeah, I know.” The list of suspects is endless.

Maurice snaps his fingers, eyes expanding as he turns fully in my direction. “Oh shit!” he shouts. “I bet it was that motherfucker Peter.” He slams a fist on the bar as if he’s right on point.

I look at him, eyes narrowed. “You know him?”

“Bianca told me about him. Told me he was trying to get in the way of you and London by telling her about her brother and his secrets. She also told me you threatened him. Kidnapped him but ended up letting him go or some shit. Stupid move, man. No loose ends. Uncle Bruce always made that clear.”

I look away, studying the various bottles of liquor on the counter across from me.

“Who knows,” Maurice shrugs, “Maybe he was returning the favor. Maybe he wanted the life you lived. The money.”

“I thought about it being him, but he was too much of a pussy to cross me again.”

“Hey,” he lifts his hands, unsure. “Never know. After something like that happening, a man will grow balls overnight to turn it back around and gain control. He knows your weaknesses. Your lifestyle. He wanted something and never got it, so maybe he tried taking a different route.” He shrugs. “Worked the system, found out who your enemies were. Studied you and figured out your weaknesses. That pussy had nothing but time on his hands. Selling watches?” he scoffs, finding it hysterical. “What a dumbass job.”

I focus on him as his eyes travel up to the TV. Fuck. Maurice and his wise-ass mind. I have to admit, though, his words are sinking in. It makes sense, but Peter Bridges wouldn’t cross me. He’s not smart enough to cross me and get away with it. Then again, the shit with Krane was unexpected. I trusted him like family. What if he gave Bridges information, cut a deal with him?

This Peter fuck is still alive somewhere. I doubt he’s still in New York. If it was him, he knows I’ve gotten away and I’m sure he knows that West is dead. He has a clue. He’s probably watching me now… watching London.

Shit. London.

I stand from my stool, dropping a twenty-dollar bill on the counter. “Gotta go.”

Maurice nods, lifting his bottle at me as I step back. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Bianca wants to gather everybody for dinner before she flies out to Belgium. London included.”

“Yeah… we’ll see.”

“Ace,” Maurice calls before I can get away.

I turn around, lifting a brow.

“She still loves you… London. You were all she ever talked about whenever I was around. She will never be over you.”

I look him over, his tan skin damp with sweat and shimmering beneath the lights. Nodding apprehensively, I turn back around and exit the bar, jumping into my car and driving to Creole.

Here For You – Laura Welsh

When I enter the house, Aden is fast sleep in my arms, his head on top of my shoulder. Greg hops up from the sofa and rushes my way. He carefully takes Aden from me and then rushes upstairs as quietly as possible.

Moments later, as I place my things down, Greg returns to the living room, sighing as he looks at me. “Where have you been, London?” he asks, nearly breathless. “I was starting to get worried.”

I sit on the sofa. “Why are you so worried?” I put on my faux smile, pretending everything’s okay. “I took Aden to the park after I picked him up from daycare and then we went for ice cream.”

“Oh.” He nods but clearly, he’s still bothered. “I’ve been home for about four hours now. I could’ve met up.”

I turn his way, apologizing with my eyes. I can’t believe how easy it is for me to lie now. “I’m sorry,” I murmur as he takes the spot beside me. “I was just doing a lot of running around. While we were out, I left my phone in the car. Stupid mistake. Won’t happen again.”

His lips flatten, and he studies me, a sign he’s disappointed but that it’s okay. My chest hurts—actually it’s more like my heart. I hate that I’m lying to him. During those four missing hours, I was tangled up with Ace Crow, and I loved every second of it. Greg hardly crossed my mind. I can’t believe myself. How selfish of me.

It’s now when I realize the scent of warm spices. “What’s that smell?”

Greg stands and reaches for my hand. He leads the way to the kitchen, and on the dining table are three plates topped with baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and grilled asparagus. My heart works hard to accept what he’s done.

Damn it. I’m such a bitch!
While I was out sleeping around and indulging in Crow, he was here cooking… waiting for me.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what to make, but I went with what we had. You left some chicken in the sink to thaw out. I hope you don’t mind that I used it.” He forces a boyish smile at me, scratching the top of his head uncertainly. When I don’t respond, he goes on with, “I can heat one up for you if you want me to.”

Silence runs thick between us. I don’t blink. I just stare at the plates. He did this… for me? “Greg, I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

He shakes his head, stepping towards me and tucking my hair behind my ears. “No, it’s okay, babe. I understand. You got caught up. No need to be upset.”

My mouth works hard to put on a genuine smile. It’s impossible to feel genuine when I feel so selfish. So ignorant. “You can heat one up for me,” I tell him. “I just want to take a shower first.”
Rinse the scent and trace of Ace off of me before he senses it.

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll heat it up as soon as you’re finished.” He kisses the center of my forehead before stepping around me and making his way to the living room again. I watch as he sits on the sofa and folds one leg on top of the other, his face content. He doesn’t seem bothered at all. I’m overreacting. I need to calm the hell down before he detects my betrayal.

Shit. I suck at this.

I round the corner and quietly make my way up the stairs. Once I’m in the bathroom, I strip out of the clothes and stuff them in the hamper. I then start the shower, making sure the water is close to scalding.

Hot, but not burning point

I step into the glass shower, shutting the door behind me and drowning beneath the stream of water. It runs through my hair, rinsing off his touch.

His lips all over me.

Everything is gone except that raw feeling between my legs.

I hate that I’m doing this—getting rid of the idea of him—but right now, I need a clear head. Greg is waiting downstairs for me, expecting me to be a good girlfriend and cuddle beneath him. How can I do that after having such a passionate afternoon with another man, though? How I can I be so inconsiderate?

I decide that, instead of going back downstairs, I’ll go to sleep. I slip into some pajamas and tuck myself under the blankets. The bed is cool and comforting. I sigh, and I’m not sure how much time passes before I hear the bedroom door creak open and footsteps come my way. I close my eyes, knowing it’s Greg.

He sighs as he rounds my side of the bed, most likely looking at me, another wave of disappointment hitting him. I bet he feels terrible, like he’s done something wrong. He’s done nothing wrong. He is perfect, and it’s sad that I’m willing to destroy that.

I hear shuffling from the closet, and then the door shuts. I expect him to come to bed with me, but he walks out of the room again. I wait it out about fifteen minutes before climbing out of bed and tiptoeing down the hallway and stairs. I take a peek around the corner and spot a large lump on the sofa, snoring loud in the air.

He’s sleeping on the couch? Is he onto me or is he giving me space because he thinks he’s done something wrong? Greg is sensitive when it comes to me, yet clueless about how to handle me.

I frown as I walk back up the stairs and down the hallway. I enter the bedroom and shut the door behind me, but once I turn around and spot a tall, looming shadow in front of the open window, my heart comes to a frozen standstill, and I start to scream.

The shadow rushes for me, covering my mouth. He drags me to the bed and lays me down, his hand still pressed on my lips, his solid, massive body pressed against mine. “Just me.” Ace’s voice slices through the dark.

I blink, eyes wide. He pulls his hand away, and I look towards the open window. “Ace? What the hell are you doing here? How do you keep getting inside?!”

“Learn to lock the house up.”

“I shouldn’t have to. This is my home. I live with a man of the law. We live in the suburbs for Christ’s sake.”

“Doesn’t mean shit can’t happen. Not everyone knows that. My son lives here. If it was that easy for me to get in, imagine a fucking burglar waltzing in this place.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No,” he grips my chin tight for one second, stroking it with his thumb in the next. “I just want you safe.”

I push up on my elbows, meeting his eyes through the darkness. I can barely see him, but the streetlights filtering in give a little leeway. “What makes you think I’m not safe?” I ask in a whisper.

He looks towards the door before standing up straight and going to lock it. I wait for a response, but unfortunately, I’m not granted one.

“Ace, you can’t just show up like this… not here. I told you that.”

He looks down at me, smirking. “What, am I cock blocking?” As badly as I want to smile from his smart-ass remark, I don’t. “He wasn’t going to attempt anything anyway. You’re acting off. He realizes.”

“Why are you watching us?”

“Watching you.”

“Why are you watching
me
?” I retort.

“You’re the love of my life. It’s my job to see that you’re safe.”

“Greg is perfectly capable.”

“Apparently not if I’m standing right here in his bedroom.” He folds his arms, his grey T-shirt tightening around his biceps. He looks over his shoulder briefly before meeting my eyes again. “Aden…” His voice cracks a little.

I shake my head. “Ace… no.”

He steps forward, jaw locking. “Don’t tell me no.”

“You can’t,” I snap, hissing. “It’s too risky right now.”

Ace glares at me for a moment. I don’t know why I find it unexpected, considering how impatient he is, but he heads for the door, unlocking it and walking right out. I hop from the bed, ready to storm after him, but realize I have to keep my steps light.

He continues his stroll, and my heart speeds up a notch as he turns for Aden’s door, opening it casually as if he belongs here. I’ve never been so afraid of getting caught. I feel like I’m fifteen again, sneaking my boyfriend through my bedroom window. Greg could wake up at any minute. He’s not a heavy sleeper at all. The smallest disturbance would snap him right out of it.

Luckily, Ace doesn’t make a sound. He’s agile, always has been, and I’m so thankful for it right now. I walk down the hallway quietly and enter Aden’s bedroom.

I crack the door shut behind me, and when I turn, I start to snap on him, but it’s when I see Ace on his knees, watching Aden as if he’s some rare and beautiful masterpiece, that I stop myself.

I come to my senses, realizing this is his son.

His first and only child. He didn’t get the chance to witness the beauty of him being born. He missed out on that opportunity and the first three years of his life, and I know it kills him inside to think about.

Reaching forward, Ace strokes Aden’s hair. He’s gentle. I’ve never seen him so soft. So calm. Aden sighs, but he doesn’t move.

Ace continues stroking his hair then starts to whisper to him. “You will meet me one day. You and your mother will come first in my life. Love you and I hardly even know you.” A warm smile appears on his lips, but it soon fades as he stops running his fingers through his hair. Seconds later, he snatches his hand away, standing up straight. He then turns my way slowly, the blue nightlight in the corner revealing his glistening eyes.

“Ace,” I call. I reach for him, but he walks around me, leaving the bedroom without a word. I follow after him, taking a quick look towards the staircase before entering my bedroom again.

Ace nears the window, and after I shut the door as quietly as possible, I rush for him, grabbing his hand before he can make an escape. “What’s wrong?” I ask as his eyes land on mine.

“Leaving.”

“Why?”

“I only stopped by to see you got home safely, London. Shouldn’t even be here.”

I ignore his last statement. “What happened in there?” I ask in a whisper.

He looks me over, but I see the hurt in his eyes. His entire face grows pained as he sighs and turns around, climbing through the window. Sad, I look out and watch him climb over to the balcony. He takes the stairs the rest of the way down, but before he crosses the street, he looks back at me.

Inside, I’m crying for him. Ace is hurting. He’s dying inside. His own son doesn’t even know him. He’s contemplating. I want to stop him. I want to run out and tell him that it will be okay in the end, but I know I can’t yet. And he knows I can’t. Not right now.

It doesn’t take long for Ace to turn his back to me, unlock his car, and climb in. I hear the car come to life, and it takes him less than ten seconds to put it in drive and pull away. I watch him drift down the street until I no longer see his taillights.

Sighing, I gingerly close the window. I start to lock it, but I stop myself. Although it’s a gigantic risk, I hope he returns. I hope he at least calls. I climb into bed again, and to my surprise, my phone vibrates on the nightstand. I snatch it up, my heart pounding with glee.

“Hello?” I answer.

“See you tomorrow, London.”

I cling to the phone, sinking beneath the cozy warmth of my sheets. The pit of my belly becomes hot and fuzzy. I close my eyes, feeling my sex tingle in remembrance of the events that took place in his hotel only hours ago.

For the second time today, he asks, “Know I love you, right?”

I nod as if he can see me. “I know.”

“Good.”

“You know I love
you
, right?” I murmur.

“I know.” I can feel his smile through the phone. I’m sure he’s fighting it, but it’s there.