Chapter 26
Emerson
I stood back and gave a critical look to the wall that I'd just painted. I'd received permission from the apartment complex office manager to paint an accent wall in my living room. I'd bought the paint a couple of months ago when it had been on sale, and being out of work was the perfect opportunity to get it done. I understood why apartments stuck with neutral colors in the white and beige family, but I'd always liked color. The Tuscany orange popped and gave life to my living room.
I poured a glass of wine and sat down on my sofa for a much-needed break. Not that painting the wall had been all that tiring, but lack of a good night's sleep was catching up to me. The incident at the boardwalk a few days earlier had spooked me. Since nothing more had occurred since then, I'd tried to convince myself that I had imagined the whole thing, but I also hadn't left my apartment.
Still, just the thought of my dad possibly being close was enough to keep me on alert, especially when a well-placed call had confirmed that he had indeed been released from prison. I'd immediately called my cousins to warn them, disappointed that I'd been forced to leave messages. I would have liked to talk to them.
I took a sip of wine, my thoughts drifting to Ace. I hadn't seen or heard from him since he’d walked out of my apartment a few days before. I knew that his modus operandi was to ‘hit it and quit it,’ but after what we'd shared, and the intensity of it, I had thought that it would be different for us, that I was different. His silence was loud and clear, though. No matter what he'd said to me, in the end I was no different from his other conquests.
It saddened me that he purposely controlled his emotions in order to remain detached, as if the only thing he deserved was the physical relief associated with the act of sex.
Well, at least I'd had him at least once. And maybe he had a good reason for not contacting me. I knew something was going on with the club, that there was another MC in town that was causing a lot of trouble. Several incidents had made the news. Then there had been that attack at the bar. Those men had been there to do as much destruction as they could. I shivered, recalling how close the girls and I had come to being raped.
All of a sudden there was a pounding at my door, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I did splash some of my wine onto the floor. Thank God it was white. My gaze shot to the door, thankful that I'd put the security lock on, although, if it were my father, I didn't imagine that he would announce himself so noisily. When the knocking continued I rose to my feet and walked to the door, recalling Ace's comment about my lack of a peephole. Why didn't I have one?
"Emerson! It's Mike!"
Relieved that it was a Sentinel on the other side of the door, I exhaled and opened it. His sharp gaze ran down the length of me before returning to my eyes. I imagined that I looked a mess. "Painting, honey?"
"Is it obvious?" I smiled, stepping back so he could come inside. "What's wrong?" None of the Sentinels aside from Ace had ever come to my apartment before.
He reached forward and tugged on a strand of my hair. "You have orange in your hair." His grin turned serious. "Listen, there was some club trouble the other day and Ace got hurt. Do you think you can come to his house for a few days and take care of him?"
Ace. Hurt? My heart thudded. "Is it bad?" Of course it was bad if he needed someone to take care of him.
Mike shrugged. "Bad enough that the fool should go to the hospital, but he won't."
I became alarmed. "What happened?"
Mike shook his head, a patient smile on his face. "You know I won't tell you that."
I rolled my eyes. "I'll come." I didn’t even have to think about it.
"Thanks, honey. Grab a few things and let's go."
I was actually glad that I was getting out of my apartment. Doyle had called the night before, wanting to meet up, but I'd declined. He was back with his ex and wanted us to meet each other. He'd sounded so happy, and I'd expressed my happiness for him, but I hadn't wanted to leave my apartment after dark. At the time I'd been pissed with myself for letting the fear of my dad get inside my head, and had decided then and there that I wouldn’t continue to let him keep me from doing what I wanted to do.
I wouldn't let him ruin my life a second time.
I rushed to my bedroom, grabbed a small carry bag from my closet, and stuffed some things into it--clothes, underwear, and a few toiletries from my bathroom. The mirror revealed my disheveled state. My messy bun was even messier than usual, and did have a few splotches of paint in it. I had some on my face, too, but I didn't take the time to scrub it off. I could get a shower once I got to Ace's place.
I re-entered the living room to find Mike exactly where I'd left him. "Are we going on your bike?" I'd never been on a bike before and was unsure about how that would work if I was wearing shorts.
"Got the truck," he said, opening my door.
He snatched the bag out of my hand. I grabbed my purse and locked my door on the way out. I giggled at the sight of the old truck that he led us to, but it ran surprisingly good.
Mike was a quiet man, so I knew that he wouldn't be open to any small talk. He was serious most of the time, and a listener. Once in a while I'd cast a sideways glance at him, taking in the concentration on his handsome face. He kind of reminded me of a younger version of George Clooney.
I'd been to Ace's house once before, years ago, when he'd hosted the end of bike week party, something the Sentinels did every year. Everyone had been invited to the day-long event, and I'd just begun working at After Hours. My infatuation with Ace had begun that day. Watching the huge, quiet biker with the long hair and war scars had fascinated me.
There was a long drive leading to Ace's house, and as it slowly came into view I thought that it probably hadn't changed much since his grandparents had lived there. It looked like something you might see in an old black and white photo. Huge, mature oaks draped in moss surrounded the large cracker-style house that sat feet away from an alligator-infested swamp.
Mike pulled the truck up in front of the house and then turned the engine off before turning to face me. "He's not going to be happy to see you. He's in pain and prickly as a wounded bear. Thinks he doesn't need any help."
I smiled. "I'm not afraid of Ace, Mike. So I take it that he doesn't know I'm coming?"
Mike confirmed it with a shake of his head. "There's something else you should know." I waited patiently for him to go on. "A couple of the girls from Tanner's bar came here to help him, but they couldn't deal with his ornery ass."
I didn't like that. Not one bit. The fact that he'd had other women there, all of whom he'd fucked at one time or another, pissed me off. "Did he request them?" Something told me that I wasn't going to like the answer.
When Mike looked away and refused to respond, I had my answer. I pressed my lips together, feeling hurt and a kind of betrayal that sent my self-esteem into a nose dive. Why hadn't Ace asked me to come and help him?
"Tanner didn't really give him a choice." Mike's eyes were warm and filled with regret. "No one knows why Ace does the shit he does when it comes to women. Sure, we all have the same ‘hit it and quit it’ rule, but when the right one comes along we embrace it wholeheartedly. Ace wouldn't know the right one if it sat up and hit him in the nose. He thinks the women he fucks only want him for bragging rights, so they can say they've been with a biker, and he's okay with that. The truth is that he thinks no one wants a scarred-up, ex-military biker."
"That's crazy!" I rushed out.
Mike snorted. "We all know that, honey. But I think he wants to believe that because it's easier than falling for someone. Less work. He can spend his life fucking his way through it without making the commitments."
I was totally confused as I thought about some of the things that Ace had said to me after we'd had sex. "But…," I paused disappointedly. Ace had claimed me. His declaration had sounded so final and certain, as if he'd made up his mind about me being in his life. Now I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure about anything. And his silence since then spoke volumes.
I took a deep breath. "I can handle Ace," I said with false bravado.
"Then I suggest you get to it. I'm just dropping you off."
"Coward," I laughed, opening the door. I grabbed my bag. "Anything else I should know?"
His laugh was deep. "Nope. Good luck. We'll be checking in, and if a guy named Rivers shows up, let him in. He's the doc."
I watched Mike drive away before turning toward the front door and making my way up the steps. As expected, the door was unlocked and I was able to walk right in. I stopped short as soon as the overpowering fragrance of perfume hit my nose. One of the girls who'd come earlier must have bathed in the stuff. I set my bag down on the kitchen counter, deciding to go in search of Ace's bedroom. It stood to reason that if he needed help, and he was in pain, that he'd be in bed.
His house was quiet. I didn't want to call out in case he was sleeping, but as I neared what I assumed was the back of the house I could hear voices, and one was definitely a woman's. I followed the sound to a masculine-looking bedroom. The bed was rumpled and unmade, but empty. A giggle drew my eyes to an open door in the room that appeared to lead to a bathroom. The mirror was steamed over, but I could definitely see two distorted images.
"Fuck, Candy—"
She giggled. "You love it and you know it."
Oh, God! I hesitated from moving further into the room. Candy was there! And even though their reflections were distorted, I could tell that they were both naked. I suddenly felt sick inside, and foolish. How could Mike not have known that she was there? Then I recalled that I hadn't seen any vehicles out front.
I braced myself for what I was going to see as I walked toward the bathroom door. If they were fucking I had to know, and if they were then I'd leave, even if I had to walk all the way back home.
"Come on, Ace, baby. I'm here to see to all your needs." All I heard was a groan. "Let's get to bed."
They weren't fucking, thank God, but they both stopped short when they glanced at the doorway and saw me. Candy's expression never wavered, and it was clear that my presence didn't affect her in the least. She was soaking wet, and so was Ace, but at least he had a towel around his hips. It was obvious that they'd been in the shower together. It was all I could do to pretend that what I was seeing wasn't tearing me up inside. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
"I came to help, but I see that I'm not needed here."
"Emerson--" there was a warning in Ace's tone that most people wouldn't ignore, but I did. He had no right to sound as if I were the one who’d been caught doing something wrong.
"Can you cook, honey?" Candy asked with a genuine smile. She was totally oblivious to the sudden tension in the room. "I'm only good in the bedroom." She winked. Her arm was around Ace, one side of her naked body crushed intimately against his. His arm was over her shoulder as if he needed her in order to remain on his feet. His color was pale. There was a bandage wrapped tightly around his waist.
There was nothing in his eyes that indicated that he was embarrassed over being caught naked with another woman. No regret. It was as if the situation were as normal as night and day for him, while I wanted to go over and rip his hair out, and then his heart, and scream at him for using me, for giving me hope.
I swallowed my pride and choked out, "Sure. I'll go see what I can find."
I couldn't get out of there fast enough.