by A. J. Macey
Enemy
Book 3 of the Aces Series
A.J. Macey
Blurb:
Damsel in distress? More like damsel causing distress.
Hey b*tches, me again- Kiera, a.k.a The Cat. You remember my b*stard father and his merry mob of minions?
No? Well, let me give you a little recap.
I was going about, preparing to move against my most hated enemy and his cohorts when my cover was blown. But I guess that’s what I get for not minding my own damned business. Anyway! Just when I thought I had allies at my back, three officers with The Aces MC—yeah, those assholes—I found myself sh*t out of luck.
Thankfully though, I still have my little assassin and my trusty 9mil to keep me company. But when it comes out that father dearest has put a hit out for any and all of The Aces, I can’t walk away. Fun, right? Nope. Emotions can go to hell and so can those sexy as f*ck men who I can’t seem to walk away from. Can we work together long enough to finally take down the Solace Mob, without catching the eyes of Agent Venry and her creepy clown partner, or will I end up killing them myself?
But I’m not the thief who became famous at 15 years old and survived the mob’s hell in my past just to lay down and let some angst get in the way when I’m finally so close to the vengeance I deserve.
Those f*ckers won’t know what hit them.
I’m The Cat, and soon enough, they’ll learn that I always get what I want.
Warning:
The Aces Series is a WhyChoose/Reverse Harem trilogy featuring MFMMM meaning the female main character doesn't have to choose between her love interests. Please note, this book does contain M/M contact.
This book contains references involving PTSD, sexual assault recollections, abuse, and other themes that some readers may find triggering.
Contents
Enemy
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by A.J. Macey
Copyright 2020 by A.J. Macey
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover: Jodielocks Designs
Editing: Ms. Correct All’s Editing and Proofing Services
Formatting: Inked Imagination Author Services
Dedicated to:
My daughter, Evelyn Rose.
Live beautifully. Love gratefully.
Enemy
Book 3 of The Aces Series
By A.J. Macey
Prologue
One Month After Kiera Left
June 29th
Friday
Chase
The night was alive; the lights and citizens of the Spanish city were bright and bustling in the evening air. Revving the engine, I sped through the streets, pleased with the job Kiera and I had just completed. I was halfway home when my phone started to ring. Pulling over into a side alley, I dug it out and answered.
“Aces,” I stated simply, holding the device up so the camera was facing me and not giving away any information as to where we were located.
“Chase,” Brooks greeted as his rugged, and to be quite honest, worse for wear, face appeared. Dark circles were stark against his tanned skin, and his golden blond hair was messy and falling into his face, not even bothering to brush it out of his eyes.
“Is there a reason you’re calling?” I questioned, already knowing the answer, and I couldn’t blame them for reaching out to me instead of Kiera.
“Like you don’t already know,” I heard Garrett grumble in the background, but I didn’t dignify his attitude with a response. Brooks sighed defeatedly, rubbing his eyes. It only took a moment, but I noted the bloody and scabbed cracks on his knuckles that gave away how he was truly coping with Kiera’s absence.
“I’m not sure what we need to do or say to fix this, but I wanted you to know that we’re willing to do whatever it takes, Chase,” Brooks nearly pleaded.
I didn’t say anything, merely stared at the Aces President as he watched me back. The icy blue depths were dull, and the whites of his eyes were red, pain and fear etched into his face. Brooks was a handsome man, and I had thought I could trust them—him—with my Kittycat’s heart, but right now, all I wanted to do was hang up.
“I’ll be right back.” Brooks glanced to the side, no doubt talking to Garrett and possibly Stone before stepping into what looked like one of the spare bedrooms in the clubhouse. “Talk to me, Chase. Please.”
“I don’t know if I have much to say, Brooks,” I told him honestly. “Do I want this to be fixed? Yes. I don’t like seeing Kiera in pain, wasting away at the bottom of the bottle every night or crying herself to sleep when she thinks I can’t hear her, but I don’t know if I can forgive you any easier than she can.”
Brooks’s lips thinned, a watery haze filling his eyes as he looked down. My chest squeezed slightly at seeing the hardened president in so much pain and knowing my Kittycat was feeling the same way. If I could get them to work through this, it wouldn’t be an issue anymore, I thought, a plan starting to form when Ciar’s fury pulsed against the invisible wall separating our minds.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ciar hissed, his words swirling from his portion to mine.
We had an odd relationship, Ciar and I, based on a carefully constructed balance of as little interaction as possible while still getting what each of us needed. Though, lately he had been more incessant, and it was causing all sorts of dissonance between us.
When Kittycat gets you, there’s no getting away.
“All right.” Brooks spoke, bringing me out of my staring and making me realize I had been quiet for too long. “I’ll let you go then.”
“Brooks, wait. It’s a shitty and stressful situation all around. I’ll talk to her and see what I can do. Okay?”
“I would appreciate it. Oh, uh, I also have some news that isn’t great. We’ve been trying to keep tabs on Frankie and Jace and all of that shit.”
“And?” I asked, sitting up from slouching in my seat. The grimace that passed over Brooks’s face set me on edge. Of course it’s not good news.
“Jace has gone radio silent, haven’t heard or seen anything from him since you left. Frankie’s mob is like a damned fortress, no information going in or out. I know it’s probably not the best time, but we need help trying to keep eyes and ears on everything here. Do you know anyone?” I thought about it, running through lists of names that could possibly help, but I knew my answer already.
“Yeah. Me.”
Garrett
Brooks strode off, closing the door behind him, and all I wanted to do at that moment was chuck the nearly empty bottle next to me. At the wall or at one of their heads, it really didn’t matter to me, but I held back the urge and took a sip from my glass. Stone sat on a stool a couple down from me, his hands curled tightly into fists as he glared holes in the bar top.
We had barely talked, too busy dealing with Kiera’s leaving in our own way, but we had finally decided to call Chase to see what we could do to fix
this. The sound of the door opening a little while later filled the silent space. The bottle next to me was now completely empty, so I got up and retrieved another one as Brooks emerged. More booze, less thinking of Kiera’s mossy eyes, tattooed body, and husky laugh, I chanted to myself. All of those things had been haunting my dreams, and I didn’t want to fucking have them chasing me around during the day either, so I plucked another bottle from the shelf.
“Chase said he’d talk to Kiera—” he started, but my scoff cut him off.
Kiera? Forgive? Yeah fucking right. We’d be lucky if she even lets Chase speak our names.
“Have something you want to say over there, Warden?”
“Kiera’s not going to forgive us, and if by some fucking miracle she does, it’ll be when we’re all on our deathbeds,” I grumbled, a soul deep ache throbbing at the reminder. Unscrewing the top of the bottle and chugging, I downed a good chunk of the bottle figuring it was a faster way to get drunk than sipping from a glass.
You know, cut out the middleman.
“Yeah, well, Chase is also going to be coming back to help us with Jace and the Solace mob. Have something to fucking say about that?” Brooks snapped, his voice hard as he glared at me. I stilled, pulling the bottle away from my lips, and swallowed the last gulp.
“Why?” was all I could come up with.
“Because he’s fucking weird,” Stone muttered.
“Well, we wouldn’t fucking be in this situation if it wasn’t for you, so I’ll take help from someone who tries to walk on the ceiling or eats glass for all I care,” Brooks countered. “Now, both of you shut the fuck up and listen, which I know isn’t exactly your strong suit, but we have shit to do.”
I bit my tongue, anger pulsing through my system at being talked to like a toddler, but if Brooks had a plan, I would listen. Taking another swig, the burn of the alcohol muted the violent urge that coursed through me long enough to focus, and while I would much rather punch them, I settled with drinking to the bottom of this bottle.
Can’t feel the heartache if you’re passed out.
Kiera
“Another!” I hollered, a slight hiccup escaping as I slammed the now empty shot glass onto the bar. Ricardo, or whatever his name was, smirked and shook his head slightly but grabbed the bottle he had opened just for little ol’ me.
How sweet.
Gag.
“You’ve got to slow down, or you’ll be stumbling all over my bar, little miss,” he told me as he poured what I thought was my sixth shot.
“I’ll be fine. I may be small, but I have a high tolerance,” I countered. The bartender didn’t say anything else. Instead, he chuckled to himself as he walked off to tend to the several other people in attendance this fine summer evening.
“God fucking dammit,” I heard behind me. The cold as ice tone sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, while my blood heated at the low timbre. The contrast was delicious, and when I felt the brush of his signature faux-suede jacket against the exposed planes of my back, I moaned slightly. “What the fuck happened to staying at the flat until I got back?”
“I didn’t want to. I got bored.” Shrugging, I turned on my stool and came face to face with the signature scowl of the one man I rarely got to see.
Ciar.
“Hello, Ciar. Come crawling out of your hidey hole for a bit of fun?” I teased, giggling. “Well, fun for you would be beating someone bloody with a bat… though now that I’m thinking about it, that does sound pretty fun.”
“No. Chase got home and panicked when you weren’t anywhere to be found. We thought you had been taken or killed, yet here you are, getting drunk. Again.”
“Aww, you said we. So you do love me,” I sing-songed, my voice cracking with emotion at the reminder of why I was out here, drowning in alcohol.
Them. The assholes of an unnamed MC that I refuse to think about.
Hey, no one ever said I had the best coping mechanisms. Don’t turn those judgy eyes on me.
“Let’s go, Dove. A job came in while we were both out,” he tried to command, tilting his head toward the door. Tossing a wad of cash that was way more than my bill onto the bar, Ciar steered me to the door.
“I don’t want to right now! I’m having fun.” I huffed, the heated air of the European summer washing over my skin as we made it outside. “You’re not my fucking babysitter, Ciar. Where the fuck is Chase anyway? Last I checked, he doesn’t have any problems coming and getting me.”
“No, I’m not your babysitter, but I am the man who’s going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you back to the flat if you don’t knock it off,” Ciar hissed, whipping to face me. “Chase may be capable of coming to get you and talking some damn sense into you, but don’t forget for one moment that I care about you too. And yeah, it fucking sucks, but you, my little Dove, don’t let shit stand in the way of who you are.”
“Says who?” I snapped, my facade finally cracking, waves of agony seeping into my body. “You? You don’t know me, Ciar! You’re not Chase. You stay locked away and watch, but that doesn’t mean you know me.” My eyes burned and my chest ached, but before the heartbreak could take hold, the rage stirred.
Fuck him if he thinks he can tell me what I can or can’t do or who I am or am not.
“Yes, I fucking say so, Dove. Look at me,” he demanded when I tried to glare over his shoulder. When I wouldn’t do as he commanded, he gripped my jaw and turned my face, his burning blue eyes hard. “You’re Kiera Casterelli, daughter of Frankie ‘Smokes,’ The Cat. You are the downfall of the Solace mob. You are the one who’s going to bring down Frankie, Jace, and all of his other bloody fucking sheep, and I’m not going to fucking stand here and watch you crawl into a bottle because of three little boys. You are better than that, and you can lash out all you want, but Chase and I know you, and we’re not going anywhere. We know The Cat wouldn’t let her revenge slip through her paws regardless of why.”
The words moved through me, mixing with the ever-present rage and sadness. Power, strength, and the rush of knowing that I was so close to getting Frankie all flowed through me, calming the churning emotions that had taken up residence in my chest. His lips curled slightly, in the tiniest of grins that transformed his expression. Cocking a brow, I slapped his hand from my chin.
“Let’s go, we have work to do.” He was right. I was The Cat, and I wouldn’t let anyone stand in my way.
Just don’t tell the dipshit I said that though.
Chapter 1
Six Months After Kiera Left
December 1st
Sunday Early Morning
Kiera
Six months. Six months since I had left, yet hearing the rev of my bike still made my broken heart crack just a little bit further. Fuck them, I growled, racing down the empty streets. The speed of my bike should scare me, but the heart pumping adrenaline soothed the jagged edges.
The death-defying ride was over too soon as I pulled into the back alley drive of my small flat. I strode into the house, chucking my keys into the bowl and setting my helmet on the counter next to the pile of mail I hadn’t bothered to deal with. A pair of leather gloves on the granite caught my eye, the pain in my chest receding just a little when I saw them.
My little assassin was back from the States.
“Kittycat,” Chase hummed giddily, wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me from behind. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, nuzzling into my hair as he took a deep breath.
“Well, if you didn’t alternate two weeks here and two there, then you wouldn’t have to miss me,” I teased softly, reveling in the warm sensations that worked their way into my chest.
“You know I can't do that, Kittycat. The Aces need my help—”
“Ugh, can we not talk about those fucking assholes,” I groaned, pushing away from Chase’s embrace, no longer comfortable feeling loved and cared for when we talked about the three men who’d hurt me more than I had cared to admit even to myself.
“Kiera,”
Chase started sternly as I pulled out an energy drink from the fridge, “you have every right to be upset and angry, but you can’t keep running from them. Sooner or later, you’ll have to deal with everything.” He blew out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before closing the distance between us. “Kittycat, I don’t bring them up to be a dick, but it kills me to see you so sad.”
“Chase, all I want is to drink this can of life essence and enjoy you being home.” I sighed tiredly since I had been up all night running surveillance on my job that was supposed to be finishing this week. “Can we just do that instead of discussing anything to do with certain motorcycle club officers?”
“How do you plan on enjoying me being home?” he murmured, his tone low as his gray eyes melted into two pools of molten metal. Smirking, I yanked him to me, our lips crashing together in a passionate battle of teeth and tongue as we frantically ripped different articles of clothing off. Shuffling back to the one bedroom of the flat, we left a trail of discarded items leading from the kitchen down the small hall.
