~ Ace ~
Tipping a frozen margarita into Tiffany’s glass, Ace grinned at her question. “If you think I’m looking better, I guess all the clean living and eating three squares a day must be paying off.” Pinching at the loose flesh on his side like he’d seen women do, he intoned sarcastically, “I need to cut it out before I lose my girlish figure.”
Tiffany laughed at his shenanigans. “You’ve got a ways to go before you need to concern yourself with things like that. You really are looking a lot better these days. I’m real proud of you. I hope you know that.”
Smiling indulgently at the woman who’d saved his life, Ace murmured shyly, “Gee, thanks, Mom.”
Tiffany giggled capriciously. “I’m younger than you, so don’t go there.”
“Well, you act like a responsible adult.” Shooting a glance around the clubhouse, he ignored the prospects horse-playing in the corner, the brother playing a shooting game on the big screen, and the ones in the back shooting pool. “Sometimes, I think you’re the only grown-up in my life.”
Her phone rang and she immediately reached for it. “You’re the one who’s been acting like an old man lately.” Glancing at the screen, she cursed under her breath. “It’s Stuart again.” Swiping the screen, she greeted her strange friend politely.
Why Tiffany’s crazy ex-husband kept calling her wasn’t hard to figure out. The man only had two friends in the entire world, and Tiff was one of them. They’d known each other since they were little, and he couldn’t let go of all the history between them. Even though she’d signed the man into a psych ward, he was still as obsessed with her as he’d ever been.
Stuart’s shaky voice was clear enough for Ace to hear from behind the bar. “I’m not right, Tiff. Talking to a therapist all the hours of the day isn’t going to fix that.”
Cradling the phone with two hands, her expression was one of concern and slight annoyance. “You’re fine, Stuart. The doctors say you’re getting better every day.”
“Remember that time I hit you with a rolledup newspaper when you wouldn’t purr? You don’t hit cats with a newspaper. That’s something you only do to dogs. I shouldn’t have done that to my favorite sexy kitty.”
Anxiety edged into her voice. “I’m not talking to you about anything cat related. You’re therapist says it just retards your progress.”
“I know.” He sounded sad and a little despondent to Ace’s ears.
Tiffany’s brow creased. “Are you taking your medication? You’re never going to get discharged if you keep dreaming up creative ways to cheek your meds. You know that, right?”
Stuart’s voice dropped, sounding muffled, as if he was cupping his hand over the speaker. His words came out fast and pressured. “I’ve been devising a way to save up a bunch of the little blue pills. I plan to drop them in the coffee pot at the nurse’s station. When they’re all drowsy and falling asleep, I’m breaking out of this place.”
Tiffany bolted up in her seat. “Stuart! Tell me you’re joking about that.”
Ace somehow doubted the stupid fuck was quite that far gone, but then again, Stuart was unpredictable, stubborn, and irrational. It was a bad combination.
Suddenly, there was some kerfuffling on his end, along with the sound of muffled voices, as if someone was trying to take the phone from him.
Stuart’s raised voice became indignant and slightly condescending. “Get your hands off me, you reprobate. Do you know who I am?” More muffled voices floated over the airwaves before Stuart spoke again. “Can’t you take a little joke? Fine, give me a minute to say goodbye.” There was a long pause and he sputtered, “No…stop that, I say.” Finally, Stuart yelled out dramatically, “You’ll always be my sexy little kitty, Tiffany! I’m getting out of here, and we’ll be together again real soon, baby.”
Rolling her eyes, Tiffany shut her phone off. “Can I get a double this time, Ace? I swear that man is driving me to drink.”
Leaning over the bar to refill her tiny margarita glass, Ace remarked dryly, “I’ve only got two things to say. You did him a solid by putting him in a psych ward rather than letting us give him a dirt nap, and it’s up to him to make good on the second chance you gave him.”
“I don’t regret getting him help, but damn, when is it going to end?” The poor woman sounded exasperated.
Ace cautioned gently, “You don’t have to keep taking his calls, Tiff.”
Letting out a deep breath, her shoulders sagged. “He’s got nobody else, except his father. We both know he is not going to get better with that horrible man in his life. As long as Stuart’s participating in his own recovery and not calling on his dad to get him discharged, I guess I’ll keep visiting and attending therapy sessions with him.”
“I can’t believe the man tried to kill his own wife.”
“Stuart was always a little unusual, even when he was a kid. When that situation with his parents popped off, it really messed with his head.”
“What does Ryder have to say about you staying connected to your bat-shit crazy and abusive ex?”
A deep voice sounded off from the clubhouse door behind them. “Ryder says this whole situation is fuckin’ nuts.”
Ace quipped, “Talking about yourself in the third person puts you squarely in the nutty category.”
Shooting him a cheerful look, Ryder replied with his pat answer for everything. “Shut the fuck up, dude.”
“I’m thinking you’re about a six or seven on the ten-point scale of crazy.”
“Nobody asked your opinion of my mental state.”
“I wish you both would stop using the word crazy in reference to real people. Mental illness is a treatable disease, just like high blood pressure or rheumatoid arthritis.”
Ace sighed. “Stuart’s particular type of mental illness is proving tough to treat, and he’s annoying the shit out of you.”
“They’re working on a differential diagnosis. He either has obsessive compulsive disorder or high-functioning autism. They’re thinking all this kitty business is just part of the obsessive part of the OCD or the serial obsessions that comes with autism. Once the psychiatrist figures out that piece, they’ll be in a better position to affect a positive outcome.”
“My sweet little nurse has a heart of pure gold, so she’s naturally going to see his situation as curable.”
“I’m not being sweet, babe. I’m just reminding everyone that we live in a civilized society where those kinds of problems can be managed enough for the person to have a long and happy life, even if they can’t cure it totally.”
Ryder stood in the middle of the floor, glaring at her. “In other words, he’s gonna need someone looking out for him pretty much the rest of his life, right?”
Pressing her lips into a firm line, she replied succinctly, “We can’t just keep throwing people away like they’re garbage.”
Sliding onto the barstool beside her, Ryder jerked his chin for a beer. Just when Ace thought the conversation was over, Ryder spoke again. “I understand all that, sweetness, and I can appreciate what you’re sayin’. Now, you hear me. I’m gettin’ pretty fed up with my woman dragging home strays.”
Before Ace could give his best friend a well-deserved reality check, Ryder did a complete about-face all on his own. “Since I’m one of the strays you saved, I guess I got no call to be complainin’ about it though.”
Ace beamed at the conflicted pair. “You got that right, brother. She got a two-for-one deal when she forced us to lay down arms.”
Ryder’s expression turned smug. “You were an easy mutt to tame, ‘cause you were fighting someone else’s battle.”
Taking a draw off his beer, Ace’s mind wandered back to first time he met Tiffany. He was fresh from prison and obsessed with getting revenge against the man who killed his twin. The thing was, his brother’s dirty deed was one in a long string and enough to turn even Ace’s stomach.
“I was gettin’ pretty tired of us riddling each other with bullets anyways. It worked out for the best.”
“I sure as hell did,” Ryder agreed. “You made the cut in record time and are now a sworn member of the Blind Jack’s MC. How’s that for a Cinderella story?”
Shooting the man who was once his sworn enemy a lopsided grin, Ace shrugged one shoulder. “Sure, if the MC is my prince and this cut is my glass slipper, I’ll buy that analogy.”
Ryder rubbed his chin speculatively. “That reminds me, why are you working behind the bar like a prospect?”
“I’ve got a new one coming in tonight and thought I’d teach him the ropes.”
“If he needs trained on how to slop booze in a glass, we don’t need the ignorant fuck.”
“You seem to be in need of another personality adjustment. Lucky for you, I’m running a special on them this evening. Care to step out back?” Ace quipped.
“I’d never turn down a fight, but I gotta admit, spending time with my lady is loads more fun than kicking your ass, yet again.”
“Don’t get cocky. Last time was a fluke. I wasn’t expecting you to fight dirty.”
Ryder preened a bit. “Then you don’t really know me, now do ya?”
“I heard you were the dark, dangerous fucker that nobody could figure out.”
Ignoring the fact that Ace was throwing his own long-ago words back at him, Ryder took a long draw off his beer. “Don’t you have a college class to get to?”
“I don’t think that’s a particularly good idea.”
“I thought you’d been texting with that redheaded professor you got lucky with a few weeks ago.”
“Yeah, about that. I texted, she never answered.”
“Aww, you poor thing. You’re breaking my fuckin’ heart. Do you feel all sad and rejected and shit?”
Tiffany stifled a giggle, probably because of the bolts of lightning shooting from his eyes straight at Ryder. “Fuck it. Crawl your dumb ass back behind the bar, ‘cause I got a hot redhead to bag.”
“That’s more like the Ace we know and kind of tolerate.”
“Fuck you, Ryder.” Though his words were ornery, his tone was mild. Grinning, Ace asked flippantly, “Guess what I saved?”
“That little heart-shaped sticker?”
Tiffany broke into their conversation. “What are you talking about, babe?”
Ryder looked from him to Tiffany and back again before replying cryptically, “You do not want to know, sweetness.” Glancing at Ace, he ordered sternly, “Go on and get out of here, you stupid fucker. I don’t need you corrupting my innocent little nurse. I want all her attention squarely on my junk, not yours.”
Tossing down this bar rag, Ace muttered, “Thanks, man. I owe you one.” His mind was already a million miles away, as he wandered out the door. The bite of cold hit him, even as the fading sunlight kissed his face. Zipping his leather jacket, he walked out to his assigned parking space.
Ryder was right about one thing. The hot redhead was the one and only woman who saw him as a man instead of just some sick fucker’s twin. That fact alone made her special.
Jumping onto his bike, images of the first time he met Doctor Barbara Reynolds flashed through his mind. Bringing down one hand, he adjusted his engorged cock. Thinking of her pretty, plump lips wrapped around his cock always gave him a chubby. Driving out to the college, he replayed their first meeting in his head.