Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3 (5 page)

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Authors: A.C. Bextor

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BOOK: Devil's Despair Box Set: Books 1-3
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I’ve been sleeping in the living room since we got here a couple weeks ago. Bean and Sarah share a room, and Ace has his own. The apartment is a two-bed, one-bath and, for lack of a better term, it’s a shack. The kitchen is small with no table, just a bar with two stools that connect it to the living room, which houses only a smaller-sized couch and TV set. The windows, though - they make the apartment appear bright and homey. Two large, square windows taking up the entire wall showcase the city and all its surroundings.

When I got here, I gladly agreed to take the couch. Ace was worried about the message it would be sending his family if we shared a room, platonically or not, and clearly there wasn’t room for me in with Bean and Sarah.

I like my privacy, so I was happy to take the rollaway. Sarah told me Hem took the couch, as well, when he stayed with Ace for seven months this year. I can tell; the big man wore it out.

“Why’s that?” Again, I’m feigning indifference.

Ace rubs his hands through his crew cut then down his face. Finally resting his hands on the steering wheel, he turns to me. He’s unsure of what he’s about to say, or he’s treading lightly around me, as always. “That guy had his hands on you.”

“Yeah… and?”

Ignoring my response, he doesn’t answer; he only tells me what to do. Typical. “Get out and let’s get inside.”

After the night I’ve had, I’m not sure I’m able to ward off my feelings for Ace. I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him for a year. I’ve followed him around, been there for him, as a friend, each and every time Sadey crushed him, all the while I listened to his heartbreak word for word as he voiced it again and again.

Finally, after watching him suffer, believing he wasn’t enough, I looked him in the eye and tried to explain that he was the only person who didn’t believe or understand that he had just as much to offer someone as he thought Sadey could offer him. Looking back, I realize I should have said more. I missed a chance to tell him how I felt about him, and it was a time he needed to hear it. I wonder now, if I had, if it would have changed anything between us.

* * *

Ace was upset about Sadey, as he always was. We were sitting at the bar at the clubhouse, and he was drowning himself in beers and shots of whiskey. He was alone, trying to take his hurt away, when I sat down and leaned into him.

He didn’t start the conversation off with a greeting. We’ve had this talk before, so it felt natural for him to jump in as if we were in the middle of it.
“She’s ignoring me. She has been for three days now. I miss her.”

“Why’s she ignoring you?”
Not caring about the answer, I still asked because he looked like he needed someone to talk to.

Disgusted, he explained Hem’s decision to make Sadey his, removing all doubt to anyone else that she was taken.
“Because she’s been with Hem the entire time. The ass is finally catchin’ on that maybe she’s worth having in his miserable life.”

“Maybe you’re worth having, too, Ace. Why don’t you believe that? I wish you would.”
I was trying to gently explain to him that he was worth far more than Hem; at least in my eyes, he was.

“This isn’t about me, is it?”

“It should be. Sadey knows what she wants, and I know you think you do, but what you want isn’t an option.”

“I’ll wait until it is.”
He wasn’t understanding my point because he wasn’t listening.

Sighing, I gave him the same advice I had been giving him all the times before when it came to her.
“Then you’ll wait forever.”

“Sorry to bother you with this again. I can’t talk to anyone else here about it.”

“You can talk to me about anything, but I wish you’d see things for what they really are.”

“Maybe one day I will.”

* * *

I had hoped that the “one day” would’ve come sooner for him. I lost hope long ago that Ace would notice or understand my feelings for him. He hasn’t. All he has to offer me now is his friendship, and so far it’s been enough. Watching him sleep, knowing who he sees when he closes his eyes, though, will hurt me.

Walking in the apartment I note the time, eleven forty-five. It’s early, and I only got to enjoy one drink before the men of chaos turned my night to crap.

Ace’s sister, Sarah, is still up, sitting on the couch, which doubles as my bed, and she’s watching late-night television. Can’t fault her, it’s the weekend and since she doesn’t have school tomorrow, she’s probably happy to have some late-night TV to dull her mind.

Ace explained to me that Sarah came into this world a screaming mess. She’s eleven years younger than he is, so before his grandma finally recognized his parents’ inability to stay sober, Sarah was mainly his responsibility. He loves her with all he has and would move mountains to keep her happy.

Sarah is beautiful. Even at fourteen, almost fifteen, you can see the marks of a woman developing as her childhood slips away. Her blonde hair and blue eyes, coupled with her tall athletic figure and witty attitude, cause her to stand out in any crowd, those her age or not. All that said, she annoys the hell out of Ace constantly. He finds her exhausting. Maybe all teenagers are, but even I can see she’s especially feisty
.

A couple of years after his sister was born, Ace told me his parents took a long vacation. They left them with Bean one day and never came back. It wasn’t until years later that he found out accidentally that Bean asked them to leave their lives, giving the kids a chance at the stability they deserved. Bean is the reason Sarah and Ace are who they are.

“Hey, Sarah.” She turns around, looking over the back of the couch and away from the TV to see Ace and me standing in the doorway. His hand is on my back, prodding me to move toward his bedroom. I’m resistant, trying to avoid heartache behind door number one.

“Hey, guys. You’re home early.” Her voice sounds sleepy, but the devilish look in her eyes tells you she’s not too tired for a chat.

“Squirt, we’re going to bed. Keep the TV down so you don’t wake Bean.”

Bean’s real name is Annette, and her friends call her Netta. I was instructed to call her Bean on my first day of being here. I was welcomed into her home as if she knew about me all my life and was patiently awaiting my arrival.

She’s short, shorter than Sarah. Her grey hair and wrinkles describe her age, but her wisdom and strength defy it. She walks slowly but talks a mile a minute, and she’s active, as well. Her friends play bridge and often take trips out of town. She’s everything I imagined her to be from the way Ace described her. Ace tells me she’s been a mother, father, and grandmother to him and Sarah their entire lives.

Ace’s dad was an alcoholic, his mother a drug user; no good came from their combined parental skills. Ace hasn’t heard from them in over thirteen years. His mother was Bean’s daughter, but blood was the only connection they shared. From what I understand, Bean didn’t hesitate to severe the ties, and Ace will never be able to thank her enough for that sacrifice
.

Sarah’s head whips to our direction, sending her very blonde half-pony-tail flying. “What?”

“Are you not listening? We’re going to bed. Cherry’s sleeping in my room.”

Sarah smiles slyly. She’s about to become annoying. “Well, I don’t think it’s the TV that needs to keep it down. Ya know, Bean’s not deaf, and if you guys are gonna mess around…”

Ace makes it to her in two deliberate steps and covers her mouth with his hand as he smothers her body under his on the couch. She’s laughing and he’s annoyed. “Shut the fuck up, squirt. It’s not like that.”

Still with her mouth trapped shut, she nods. Once he releases his hand, though, her fourteen-year-old persistence continues to torment her brother. “Don’t put the hickeys anywhere I can see ‘em, please. I’d like to keep breakfast down in the morning.” She finishes the thought by pointing her finger in her mouth and making a strangled, gagging sound.

I laugh out loud while still standing by the door, and I can’t stop. It’s funny to see Ace being owned by a little blonde woman that he loves without limit.

He looks to me over the couch as he now sits next to his sister, holding her head in a vice. “What’s fuckin’ funny, Cherry? You want some of this?”

Backing up, I motion with my hands and answer. “Oh, God, no.”

“Ace, I think she does,” Sarah says on a gasp as she attempts to unclench her neck from the vice of his arm.

Changing the subject in order to avoid getting clobbered, I try to send him away. “Sarah and I need girl time, Ace. Go to bed. I’ll be in when we’re done.”

“Girl time? What the fuck for?” Sarcasm breaks through his words.

He finally releases Sarah, and she sits up quickly and scoots away from her brother, fearing another physical altercation. “Yeah. Girl time, big brother. It would be nice to hang with Cherry without you or Bean all up in our biz.”

Giving up, Ace gets up and kisses Sarah on the crown of her head, then walks to me. Looking me in the eye, he asks, “See you in a bit. You’re okay?”

“Let it go, Ace. I’m good. I’ve been through a lot more than what happened tonight, right?”

He nods, turns around and walks to his room, leaving the door open for me to follow when I’m ready. Until he lets Sadey go and looks at me with the same adoration and more than he held for her, I’ll never be ready to cross that threshold.

CHAPTER FOUR

Cherry

THE NEXT MORNING, I wake up to find Sarah sleeping on the floor by the couch, looking extremely uncomfortable. She’s wrapped in a sleeping bag and is using her arm as a pillow. It’s Saturday morning, and all I can think about is coffee.

Please, for the love of sanity, tell me someone made coffee.

Once standing, I turn to the left and see Ace resting in the kitchen. He’s leaning against the countertop, shirtless, and his tattoos on display; dragons and skulls wrap around his ribs and follow along onto his back. The faded jeans he’s wearing have seen better days. His neck, corded with muscle, is stiff. The ticking of his jaw and the vein protruding in his temple tells me he’s in a mood.

Last night, before I fell asleep, I had changed into my nightshirt. Hem had given it to me while I was spending so much time at the clubhouse recovering from the attack by Greyson. I’ve kept it all this time, not because it’s comfortable, but because it reminds me of being in a place I once considered home. Its familiarity makes me feel safe.

Walking toward Ace and stopping at the bar that separates the living room from the kitchen, I pull out a stool and have a seat, but don’t say anything. I’m wary of his mood. When Ace is angry, he isn’t good with curbing his tone and words. I’ve been witness to this several times, and I’m never ready for its effect. In a sense, I stood him up last night and it was definitely intentional.

He moves from the opposite side of the counter and walks the two steps to stand in front of where I’m sitting. Bracing his hands on the bar, his eyes find mine and he looks like he’s about to unleash. To my surprise, he doesn’t; he only whispers, seeing Sarah sleeping on the floor. “Thought you were coming to my bed last night.”

Half-truth. “Sarah and I watched a Rocky marathon until about three, and I didn’t feel like I should just leave her out here. She was already half-asleep and I didn’t want to wake her. I was fine with the couch, Ace, really, but thank you.”

He nods. “I’m gonna hit the shower. Coffee’s made. Wake Sarah so she can pick up from last night before Bean gets home. Mary, the next door neighbor, took her to play bridge with the girls.”

“Okay.”

He doesn’t say anything more as he walks away, closing the door to the bathroom behind him. Although I didn’t find the nerve last night to make my way into his platonic sleepover, I did just catch a view of his back and it hasn’t changed. The man has one hell of an ass.

Before I’m able to finish my first cup of coffee, I hear a knock at the door. Looking down at my casual, morning-dress attire, I give quick thought to changing into something less revealing. Thinking well of it, I shift through my clothes in the hamper in the corner near the couch and slide on a pair of boxers. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to tame it the best I can without a comb. After all that, I check the peephole and find it’s Travis.

He looks to be in about as good of a mood as Ace was when I first saw him this morning.

All these people should drink more coffee before talking to each other in the morning.

Last night, Travis’s words upset me. He clearly thought, for whatever reason, I was a distraction and didn’t want me around. I’m not uncomfortable with him in the least, and I feel safe enough in Ace’s home to let him in.

Once I open the door, the look on his once-sour face goes soft. “Heya, Raegan.”

My name. I had forgotten I had told Travis and Hayden my name. He remembered, though, and it strikes me as sweet. “Hi, Trav. Ace is in the shower, but he’ll be out in a few minutes if you want to come in and wait.”

Walking past me, he nods and explains. “Actually, I came to see you. I wanted to tell you I was sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” I hear Sarah’s morning voice squeak as she peeks her head around the couch to find Travis and me standing near the front door.

“Sarah, honey, can you pick up the blankets and take them back to Bean’s room. Ace said she’ll be home later, and he wants the mess cleaned before she gets here.”

Giving me an early-morning eye-roll, she responds as she stands, taking the blanket with her for coverage in front of Trav. Luckily, without much grief, she does what she’s told. “Ugh, I guess.”

“Heya, squirt.” Travis mutters, avoiding eye contact.

“Whatever, Travis.” I’ve noticed the last two weeks that Sarah isn’t a morning person. Apparently, the nickname she was given long ago doesn’t agree with her before nine o’clock.

“Sorry about her. I’m sure you already know she doesn’t wake up in a good mood.”

“Is she ever in a good mood?”

“She’s fourteen, so probably not.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives up but understands my point. “Whatever. Can we sit for a minute?”

“Sure.”

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