Beware 2: The Comeback (8 page)

The thing is, I have enough to get by. But during those two months after I escaped West’s wrath, I gave over half of my money to my men’s families. Gerrick, Tye, and Wes. Even Trent, my loyal driver. Fortunately, he’s still alive. He got away, and he’s living a better life. A clean life. I didn’t see him. He deserved better than to be in my presence again, so I gave the money to his sister and told her to give it to him. I’m definitely not broke, but I’m not as rich as I once was either.

“Ace,” she calls, pushing up on her elbows and looking me over.

“Yeah… heard you.”

Her face straightens as she pushes back and sits up. Caressing my cheek with the pad of her thumb, she whispers, “You can’t go back. Promise me you won’t go back.”

Fuck. A promise. One I know I won’t keep. When I go, I won’t tell her. I won’t let her know what I’m up to. “I won’t go back, London.”

She nods, leaning forward to place a passionate kiss on my lips. I savor it, groaning as I pull her into me, finishing what we’d just started.

As I toss her back on the leather, her lips part, but she spreads her legs wide open, allowing me all the access I need. Grabbing her hips, I hoist her up, positioning my cock at her entrance.

And as I slide in, taking it inch by savory inch, her eyes gradually shut, and she pants, lifting her dress to toy with her taut, pink nipples.

I’ve just lied. To the woman I love, I lied.

But I don’t lie without reason. I’m protecting her. My son. Us. I want the best for my family before we enter the realm of eternal and everlasting bliss, and the only way that can happen is if I cut off all loose ends. Those loose ends start in New York.

I have to go back.

I must.

I owe it to myself.

I owe it to the crew that died for me.

If I don’t go back and figure out who it was that tried to ruin and end me, I’ll never be able to live with myself. I’ll never have the peace of mind I long for.

I can’t live in vain.

Cold Case Love – Rihanna

I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

I don’t even know how I allowed my body to trick my mind into coming out with Ace. I know Greg will be home in four hours or less. This gives me just a few hours to get answers from Ace.

The driver pulls up to a restaurant on Malibu beach. As the spike of my heel plants on the concrete, I stare ahead at the fountain sprouting colors of gold and silver. When we walk by, I spot koi fish of various colors swimming in the fountain.

So peaceful.

So tranquil.

Lovely.

As we step onto the balcony of the restaurant, Ace adjusts his tie before pulling out my seat. I steal a glance at him before sitting, forcing a smile. I slide in, and he takes the seat next to me. Pressing my lips, I take a look at my surroundings. I admit, this is nice. It’s close to 70 degrees out. A nice breeze brushes past my bare shoulders. I tighten my scarf around me, peering from the glass railing to the shimmering blue ocean water. The setting sun soothes me, the small amount of heat comforting, and I relax a little, realizing I should be enjoying this moment—Ace’s company. I shouldn’t be so wound up. I should be happy.

Yes, I’m confused and torn, but I love him. There’s no doubt about it. And no matter how guilty I feel, it doesn’t overcome my love for him. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed at home and never thought about leaving. I never would’ve taken an hour to do my hair, another hour and a half to put on makeup, or even put on one of the best dresses in my wardrobe.

I sigh, turning in Ace’s direction, and to my surprise, he’s already looking at me. I perk up a bit, my cheeks burning. “What?” I whisper.

He presses his lips and shakes his head, his signal for,
“Nothing.”

“Why are you staring?”

He laughs. “I haven’t seen you in over three and a half years, London. I dreamed of this moment. Staring will be imminent throughout the night.” He leans forward, grabbing my hand and bringing my knuckles to his lips. After kissing them, he tells me, “It’s hard not to look at the woman I love. Beautiful, Red.”

I stare down at my lap, fighting a blush. “Thank you.”

He squeezes my hand in his. A young waiter appears at the table with a notepad, and Ace asks for a bottle of the house’s finest red. After bringing it back, we place our orders, and he takes off, giving us time to ourselves again.

“You’ve been pretty quiet since we fucked,” Ace says after sipping his wine. He flashes a cool smile, which causes me to melt entirely.

I laugh and scoff at once. “That’s what you consider it? Fucking?”

“It was a good, quick fuck. We’ll soon make love. Don’t worry.”

“Ha. You’re funny.”

He studies me with a hint of a smile on his lips as I pick up my glass of wine and take two small sips. The live jazz music surrounds us, and I drum my fingers to it with my free hand, but I can’t help my wandering mind. What am I doing here? Why did I come running, knowing Greg could show up at anytime? How would I explain the dress and makeup? Or even the mysterious black truck pulling up to the curb and dropping me off?

I sip again, and Ace says something that catches me completely off guard. “You’re thinking about him.” I pause on my next sip, avoiding his eyes. Instead of looking at him, I focus on the basket of bread rolls. This is a statement. He knows. As always, I suck at hiding my feelings. At least we know that hasn’t changed.

“Just realizing how unfair I’m being to him right now.”

“Then end it.” His voice is heated. “Just let the motherfucker go. You know who you really want, London.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t. I thought I did, but… I don’t.” I swallow thickly, placing my glass down. “Bianca said something about you earlier, and it’s been seared into my brain ever since.”

He sits back, folding his arms. “This should be good…” I stare at him, and he rolls his eyes, exhaling. “Fine. What did she say?”

“She said you haven’t changed… that you’re still
you
.”

Ace cocks a brow. “You believe that?”

I don’t respond, which makes his jaw tick. His upper lips twitches as he slowly unfolds his arms. “Did she tell you how long I waited before actually speaking to her?”

“… No.”

“Two months I waited.”

“Why two months?”

“Wanted to see how much had changed…” The knot in his throat works up and down. “And I wanted to see if you’d ever show up with her one day. Never did.”

He looks away, and I realize there’s something else. Something he doesn’t want to admit. “That’s not the only reason why you waited, is it?”

He looks away, jaw locking, which proves I’m correct. I wait for him to speak again. He doesn’t. He keeps his line of sight away from mine.

“Ace?” I call.

“What do you want to hear, London?” he snaps in a hiss.

“The truth,” I snap back, leaning my chest over the table top.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I just thought… I don’t fucking know.” He runs a rough hand across his face. “For a moment, I thought she was the one that betrayed me. Ordered someone to kidnap me.”

I gasp. “Someone took you?”

He nods.

“For three years?”

Another nod.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “Wanted what I had.”

I’m shocked. “Why would you think it was Bianca? She’s family. She fought like hell to get justice for you.”

“I know that now.” His voice is angry. “After talking with her myself, I know. But she’s the only person that knows the most about me. She knows a good bit about the Crow business too. I assumed—”

“Bianca didn’t betray you. She loves you, and she spent almost every waking moment with me after we thought you passed. She would never do that. You know that.”

He nods, pressing his knuckles to his upper lip. He’s quiet for a moment, and relief swirls through me when he finally speaks again. “Being taken against my will really fucked with my head. I didn’t know what to think… who to trust. Everything went downhill.”

“We’re all you have left. You can trust us.” I look him over, watching as his face goes blank, but his eyes spread wide with raw emotion, telling it all. Reaching forward, I tilt his chin to meet his gaze. He doesn’t blink, which allows me to see the agony he endured. Sadness overwhelms me, pulling at my heartstrings.

I feel awful. I should’ve sent someone to look for him. I should’ve known he wasn’t dead. I had the thought in the back of my mind. I had a deep-rooted feeling that he was still alive, and like a hopeless fool, I gave up on it. “Do you… want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “Not right now. This is our time.”

“Okay.” I force a smile, squeezing his hand in mine. “It’s okay. We don’t have to.”

He appreciates the gesture, but during the rest of dinner, our conversations are light, almost limited. He doesn’t talk much. I tell him a little about Aden, just enough to get him to perk up again, but it all crashes down once I stop. I’m not sure how much longer I can go on. I expected him to talk… to explain something to me, mainly what happened to him three years ago.

Unfortunately, I’m not granted any answers and I won’t force it out of him.

After dinner, Ace leads the way back out to the truck. After sliding in, Max pulls off. We don’t go straight home. We just ride for a while, hand in hand with the windows rolled down and a cool breeze rushing past us, ruining the hair I just straightened.

I would say it’s perfect, but it’s not. There’s tension. Thick and impenetrable. Ace is hardly looking at me. He’s focused on what’s happening outside the truck. He hasn’t looked my way since we got in. I don’t say anything. I don’t want to interrupt his deep thoughts.

But I am worried.

And I realize Bianca was wrong earlier. Ace is not the same.

He’s been broken down. Torn apart. He lost everything, and I’m not sure if that makes him stronger or weaker. From what I can tell, he seems a lot more vulnerable now. He’s not the same Ace Crow I first met in Atlanta and spent weeks with in New York. There, he was a king. A god. A ruler.

But now… he’s a ripped open Ace. A hollow version of what he once was. I see it all over his broken face. The way he flexes his jaw, the way he clenches his fists beneath his chin without even realizing it. He’s definitely different.

I pull my hand away from his, hoping he comes back to reality and talks to me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he turns forward and tells Max to take me home. For ten minutes, we ride in infuriating and unclear silence.

Dare I speak? What should I say? What happened to make him want to end the night so quickly? We still have time. Why not cherish it? Unfortunately, Max pulls up to the curb of my two-story home. I stare up at the palm trees, sighing as I grab the door handle.

Before I push out, Ace catches my hand and stops me. I look back as he leans forward, and his cologne brushes past my nose. There are a million questions I could ask, but only one weighs on the tip of my tongue. One that hurts so badly to be asked. “You’re going back… aren’t you?”

I stare into his honey eyes, watching as he watches me. His nostrils flare, and his eyes tell it all, but he doesn’t speak. Not even a gesture. He crushes his lips together and looks down. Just like that, he’s broken his promise to me.

Outraged, I snatch my hand away from his, climb out of the truck, and slam the door behind me. I rush up the stoop and towards my front door, unlocking it with fury pumping through my veins. Once it’s open, I take one look back. I can’t see through the tinted windows, but I know he’s watching. He’s not even going to come after me?! Make this right?

Fuck him! Fuck him for making me feel again! Fuck him for coming back, knowing he was going back to his ruthlessness! Knowing I wouldn’t accept his selfish ways. Fuck him for not putting me first. I deserve to come first. Fuck him for being so fucking selfish!

I slam the front door, and when I see the headlights of the truck flash through the window and on the wall across from me, I press a hand over my mouth, realizing he’s gone. With my back against the door, I sob—not as hard as I did when I thought Ace died, but close.

My heart shatters in my chest, breaking into fragments. Why did he come back? Why would he do this to me? Leave me hanging… lead me to believe we could make something work? I was doing great without him. I was finally creating a life.

I slide down, crouching on my heels, buckling as I cup my mouth. Nobody’s home, but it seems like I’m in a crowded house. I feel Greg and Aden. I feel how I’ve let them down. They would hate me if they knew the sin I’d just committed.

He’s going back.

Wow.

I don’t believe it. I’m losing him again.

Not again.

***

One short hour later, and I’m ill-prepared when Greg walks through the door. “Hey babe,” he sings as the door clicks shut behind him. I struggle with a smile, gripping my cup of chai tea as he places a kiss on the center of my forehead. “Where’s Aden?”

“I put him to sleep about thirty minutes ago.” I’m lying. Jessica, my babysitter in the next neighborhood, put him to sleep. The only job I took care of was picking him up and putting him in his bed. What kind of mother am I? Leaving my flesh and blood for a man who so clearly doesn’t deserve my presence?