CHAPTER THIRTEEN | SIENNA
I stared at the blinding white computer monitor, but all of the words on the screen blurred together, forming fuzzy, incoherent grey blobs. I groaned, burying my face between my palms.
It wasn’t even noon yet, but I was already counting down the seconds until I could escape my miserable cubicle and go home. I was exhausted, my entire body ached, and I had a newfound jealousy of creatures that got to bury themselves away from the world and hibernate for several months at a time.
I kneaded my knuckles into my temples, then I stretched out an arm and reached for the plastic Dunkin Donuts cup on the edge of my desk. My morning turbo shot iced coffee had melted into watered-down brown slush, but I sucked up a gulp through the orange straw anyways. I needed caffeine; preferably intravenously.
As I winced through the bitter taste of watered-down coffee, the phone on my desk buzzed. I immediately straightened in my chair and grabbed the receiver, wedging it under my ear.
“Agent O’Malley,” I said cheerfully, sounding infinitely more perky and awake than I felt.
“Sienna, hi!” an equally cheerful voice responded through the phone. I immediately recognized that voice; Nan, the department’s front desk receptionist.
“Hey Nan, what’s up?”
“Oh, same ‘ol, same ‘ol!” Nan giggled. I could imagine her spinning around in the office chair behind her desk, fanning out her fingernails and inspecting her manicure. “Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that you’ve got a visitor! He’s waiting in the lobby for you!”
“Really?” I sputtered through a mouthful of coffee. I quickly wiped my lips clean with the sleeve of my sweater. “I mean… that’s odd. I wasn’t expecting any visitors today.”
I glanced down at what I was wearing: an old pink sweater and a pair of stretchy jeggings that I had bought back in college when I had packed on the “freshman fifteen” and couldn’t fit into my Levi’s anymore.
Somehow, the freshman fifteen had found me yet again. For the past month, I had made it my mission to bury any lingering memories of Ace and that night at the wedding chapel under a mountain of greasy, fried fast food. The new diet seemed to help with the late-night pangs of regret and embarrassment… but it definitely didn’t help with my waistline. When my size 26 Levi’s no longer buttoned up in the front, I had no choice but to dig out my trusty ol’ jeggings. The elastic waistband was a welcome relief.
Jeggings were fine for an afternoon hiding behind my desk at the office, but I was in no state to be meeting with a visitor.
Who the hell was visiting me, anyways?!
“Thanks, Nan,” I said quickly. “I’ll be there in a sec.”
I slammed down the phone and grabbed my cell phone, using the front-facing camera to give my appearance a quick once over. My hair was a mess, my skin looked like I was going through puberty all over again, and I had coffee stains on the front of my sweater.
Great, I sighed, dropping the phone on my desk.
Deeming my appearance a lost cause, I wearily pushed myself up from behind my desk and made my way towards the front lobby. When I spotted who was waiting for me on the other side of the reception desk, I nearly spewed up all of my iced coffee.
I hadn’t seen him in over a month, but I recognized him right away. Black leather, torn denim, tattoos and muscle… Ace Boone, in all his glory.
My jaw dropped to the floor, and a slick smile spread across his face when he saw me.
“Hey, wifey,” he winked.
My eyes widened and I glanced around, making sure that nobody had overheard him. Thankfully Nan was thoroughly engrossed in a phone call, and she was obviously rambling into the receiver as she filed her nails.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” I hissed, glaring up at the biker.
“What’s the matter, Blondie?” he chided back, still wearing that cocky grin. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
I grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him across the lobby towards a hallway lined with conference rooms. I pushed him into the first one, then I followed him inside and slammed the door shut behind us.
There was a large glass window along one wall, looking out into the office. I immediately ripped the blinds shut, covering the window so that nobody could see inside.
I couldn’t afford to let anybody catch a glimpse of me and my visitor.
“Closing the blinds?” he teased, leaning his hips back on the long wooden conference table. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re trying to seduce me?”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, turning to face him and planting both of my hands on my hips. “And why did you wear all of… that?!” I added, motioning at the leather vest inscribed with the High Rollers insignia.
“You don’t like my outfit?” Ace asked, feigning offence as he glanced down proudly at his leather vest. Then he grinned back up at me and added, “Come on now, Blondie. You knew you weren’t marrying a Ralph Lauren kinda guy.”
“Shhh!” I hushed him, then I turned and peeked through the blinds. The hallway on the other side of the window was still empty, but that didn’t make me feel any better.
“Are you insane?!” I hissed, turning back towards Ace. “Why am I even asking that?! Of course you are! You’d have to be insane to stroll in here, wearing the freakin’ logo of a gang that this agency is investigating for illegal activity!”
“Are the High Rollers still under investigation?” Ace asked, frowning.
“For your information, no,” I said in a hoarse whisper. “I closed the case a month ago. But that’s not the point! Unless you want a target on your back, you have no business being here.”
“Baby, I was born with a target on my back,” Ace said with a dry chuckle. Then he reached into the front of his vest and pulled out a thick yellow envelope. He slammed it down on the conference table behind him and glanced back up at me. “That’s my business.”
I stared down at the envelope, then back up at him.
“Look familiar?” he asked.
“I don’t—”
“They’re annulment papers.”
“I know what they are.”
“The law showed up on my doorstep the other day to hand-deliver ‘em,” his face darkened into a scowl. “That was pretty cold, even for you…”
“Well what did you expect?” I fanned out my hands in exasperation. “Did you want me to send them via strippergram?!”
“At least that would have softened the blow.” His lips bent up into a crooked smile.
“Come on, Ace,” I sighed. “You knew this was coming. We both agreed that this was a mistake—”
“We?!” Ace scoffed. “I seem to remember you tellin’ me that there was no ‘we.’”
“Well there won’t be once you sign those papers.”
“I’m not signing shit,” he snarled as he took a menacing step towards me, forcing my head to reel back so that I could maintain eye contact. “You know too much, and you said it yourself that the only way to keep my club safe is to be married. So if that’s what it takes to protect my brothers, then I intend to stay married.”
“It’s not up to you,” I said firmly. “A marriage is a legal union between two consenting adults, and I no longer consent to be married to you.”
“You say that like you have a choice,” Ace said. His eyes were dark, but his lips were twisted into a smirk.
“I do,” I glared back. “That’s why I filed for an annulment.”
“And… what? You just assumed that if you snapped your fingers and gave me a command, that I’d do exactly what you wanted? Like I’m just some obedient little puppy?”
“What?! No!” I stammered. “Ace, we made a dumb and drunken mistake, but I’m trying to make it right. This annulment is the best decision for both of us. Surely you can see that?”
“I see a lot of things,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Right now, I see an agent trying to cover her own ass.”
“Ace—”
“You’re afraid of me,” he continued. “If word gets out that you married your mark, your career could be over. No big promotion. No corner office. No more playing secret agent dress up games…”
“I’m not afraid of you!”
“You should be,” he growled, taking another step towards me. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear that day you came sniffing around the bike shop, but I’m nobody’s bitch. I don’t take orders, and I won’t stand for anyone putting my crew in danger.”
“Nobody is in danger,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and standing my ground. “I already told you the case has been closed. It’s over. Now, I’m just trying to make this as simple and painless as possible, but if you don’t work with me—”
“What?” he cut me off. “What will you do, Agent O’Malley? Are you gonna send the cops back to my house? Are you gonna get the law involved, huh?”
“I have a lawyer,” I said firmly. “If you want to turn this into a fight, I’m prepared to fight back.”
“Oh yeah?” he scoffed indulgently. “I’m sure your boss will love that. What do you think he’s gonna say when he hears that you married the target of your investigation?”
My mouth went dry and my lips clung together in a firm line. My cheeks had been flushed red with anger, but I felt the color slowly dissolve as my face turned ghostly white. He had me. He had me backed into a corner, on my knees… at his mercy.
“Actually, you know what would be fun?” Ace continued, smiling deviously. “Since I’m already here, why don’t we tell him together? What’s his name again? It’s Mark something. Mark… Cassidy? No. Mark… Calloway?”
“Mark Kaplan,” I said, barely feeling the words slip out of my numb mouth.
“That’s it!” Ace snapped his fingers and nodded. “Mark Kaplan. What do you say, Blondie? Should we go pay Mark a visit and tell him our big news?”
“Ar-are you blackmailing me?” I stammered.
“Of course not,” he frowned, pretending to be offended. “You’re my wife, Sienna.”
“What the hell do you want?!” I demanded. “Protection for your stupid little gang? Is that what this is all about?!”
“You’re looking at this all wrong,” he said, taking another step towards me and closing the distance between us completely. “What you should be asking yourself is what can I do for you.”
I felt his hand land on my waist and curve around the swell of my hip. He traced the ridge of my pelvis until he reached my navel, then he drew a line down towards my mound. His finger ran along the seam of my jeggings, digging gently into my own seam beneath the fabric.
I swallowed heavily and my breathing intensified as I remembered the way he had touched me in the hotel room that night; the way our bodies had felt as they crashed together like two bolts of lightning colliding in one giant, electric explosion.
I knew exactly what Ace Boone could give me. He had given it to me multiple times that night, and now, with his fingers prodding through the thin faux-denim of my pants, he was close to giving it to me again.
Against all better judgement, I felt my hips ease closer to him. My lips fell apart and my body fell into the rhythm of his fingers stroking my slit.
Then, without warning, his hand slipped away. My eyes flicked open and my body jolted upright, stiffening as I suddenly became re-aware of my surroundings. A hot pink flush flooded my cheeks and I cleared my throat.
Ace slipped something out of his jeans pocket and held it pinned between his index and middle finger. He passed it towards me, and when I glanced down I realized that it was a playing card.
“Take it,” he said.
Still speechless, I plucked the card from between his fingers and stared down at it. I frowned. It was a face card; a King. But this wasn’t a normal playing card. Instead of one of the normal suits appearing in the top left and bottom right corners of the card, there were black dollar signs.
“What is it?” I asked, glancing back up at Ace.
“I’m giving you a shark,” he told me.
A shark?
Something in my memory sparked, and my mind slipped right back to that night at the Red Rock Tavern. I pinched my eyes shut, and the scene filled my head: me, sitting at the bar; Ace, confronting me about what I was still doing there.
He had said something about sharks… but what was it?!
I focused on that scene, trying to dig more details out of the rubble of my memory. The more I dug, the more vivid the scene became; the smell of whiskey, the distant chatter of bar patrons, his ice-cold blue eyes…
Then it suddenly hit me.
“Why are you worried about chasing minnows when there are sharks swimming all around you?”
That was what he had said.
He had been implying that the High Rollers were a minnow in a sea of sharks… but he had never elaborated on who exactly those “sharks” were.
So what was he trying to tell me now?
I opened my eyes and glanced down at the playing card, trying to connect the dots.
King of… dollars? King of… money?
I glanced up at Ace, but he was already striding towards the door of the conference room. He had one hand on the door handle when I yelled out to stop him.
“Ace, wait!”
He glanced back at me over his shoulder, but he kept his hand on the door handle.
“What does this mean?!” I asked, holding up the playing card. “Can we talk about this?”
“Not here,” he said.
“Okay. Where?”
“You know where to find me.”
Before I could say another word, he had twisted open the handle and strode straight through the door.