Ace of Hearts (Blind Jacks MC Book 3)

Home > Romance > Ace of Hearts (Blind Jacks MC Book 3) > Page 1
Ace of Hearts (Blind Jacks MC Book 3) Page 1

by J.C. Valentine




  ACE OF HEARTS

  A Blind Jacks Novel

  By J.C. Valentine

  All rights reserved. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book is copyrighted material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any form without the prior permission of the publisher, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.

  ACE OF HEARTS: A Blind Jacks Novel by J.C. Valentine

  Copyright © 2018 by J.C. Valentine

  Cover design and Copy Editing by Brandi Salazar Editing Service

  Proofreading by Mitzi Carroll

  ACE OF HEARTS is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places and events portrayed in this book either are from the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, establishments, events, or location is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Please do not take offence to the content, as it is FICTION.

  Trademarks: This book identifies product names and services known to be trademarks, registered trademarks, or service marks of their respective holders. The author acknowledges the trademark status in this work of fiction. The publications and use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Books by

  J.C. VALENTINE

  Night Calls

  Stranded

  That First Kiss

  Surrender to Love

  Trust

  Wayward Fighters

  Knockout

  Tapout

  unDefeated

  Blue Collar

  Sweetest Temptations

  Noel: A Blue Collar Christmas

  Forbidden

  Dance for Me

  Lie to You

  Fall for Him

  Forbidden Valentine

  Spartan Riders

  Grit

  Mettle

  Vigor

  Brash

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  What to say…It’s been a hell of a year! If you’ve been following me on social media, then you know life has thrown me my fair share of curveballs. It was SO HARD to work through it all to get to this point while I tried to regain my edge. I think I’ve got it back now, and I’m so proud to be able to deliver this hot and spicy new series to you, my readers! Thank you so much for your kindness and patience. You’re the best <3

  I would be remiss if I didn’t thank my family and friends. Mom, Mitzi, Mia, Holly, Cheryl: you have been the anchors in my life. You’ve kept me strong, even through (numerous) moments of self-doubt. You’ve kept me focused and cheered me on every step of the way. Thank you for never losing faith in me even when I did. There aren’t enough words in the world to describe how much I love and appreciate you.

  Finally, I have to thank my kids, because they’re my driving force in this world. Everything I do, I do for you!

  Book Description

  Being granted a second chance at life and a first time at love was every man’s dream, but for Ace it came with a price.

  Ace

  By all rights, he should be dead. Serving ten years in prison for a crime he didn’t commit had affected him in ways he couldn’t begin to understand. He’d rolled out of the slammer and into a revenge plot that almost got him killed. By the grace of God, when he’d hit rock bottom, one person reached out a helping hand.

  A beautiful redhead with a penchant for mischief took a shine to him and then disappeared, leaving behind only her number scribbled recklessly on his arm. Assuming he can make out all the numbers, he just might have a chance at something amazing.

  Barbara

  Finally divorcing her narcissistic husband was the best choice Barbara ever made. After living under his control for seven long years, she might have gone a little wild for a minute, what with jumping the hot biker and all. None of that mattered, though, because today was the day she got herself back on track.

  After being given the opportunity to excavate a small cache of fossils in a remote area, Barbara is horrified to discover she’s inadvertently led a small team of her archeology students into danger. When they stumble on a secret dumping site of a vicious serial killer, Ace, the big, handsome biker takes charge. But she may have gotten herself and her students into more danger than even he can handle.

  ~ Ace ~

  Rolling onto his side, Ace stuffed his pillow under his head. In the dark of night, he braced himself to fight the battle none of his brothers knew about. Dark thoughts circled around in his brain, and there were just so damned many of them. Each swooped down to peck at him, slowly robbing him of his sanity as they took their never-ending pound of flesh.

  Images of his childhood flooded his mind. His old man had been part of a club his entire life, and under the former club president, things had been harsh. The poor slob was gone more than he was at home.

  Ace’s mother mentally checked out when he was about nine or ten, leaving him to try and manage his brother on his own. The one image that haunted him most of all was coming upon his mother sitting by the fire pit in their backyard. She was holding a stick with a gigantic marshmallow stuffed squarely on the end. For a split second, he thought that she’d snapped out of it and was back to being her old self. Then he saw the vacant expression in her eyes and knew that wasn’t true.

  Movement caught his attention, and that’s when his world fractured. Joe was sitting right there in front of her, skinning Sparky like he was wild rabbit. Looking from the one to the other of them, Ace tried to work out what was creepier: that his twin brother had killed their family pet or that his mother hadn’t noticed.

  The argument that erupted between his brother and him was all kinds of epic. Not that it mattered, ‘cause he continued to grow into a delinquent of biblical proportions.

  Chasing away the horror of his childhood provided little comfort. Letting out a frustrated growl, Ace tossed and turned in a vain effort to get comfortable in his own skin.

  His mother hadn’t lasted long after that night, and his father was gunned down in a gang shootout before Ace came of age. His brother had ended up committing the ultimate act of evil on a fourteen-year-old girl. Ace couldn’t even find it in his heart to hate the man who finally killed the evil bastard. Ryder was protecting little Rose, and if Ace had been out…well, he might have saved Ryder the damn trouble. Unfortunately, he’d been locked behind bars for another one of his brother’s hijinks at the time.

  A knock sounded at his door, drawing him from his little trip down memory lane. Bolting upright, Ace shouted angrily, “Go the hell away! I’m trying to sleep.”

  Alyssa’s voice sounded softly through the door. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Rolling out of bed, his long legs ate up the distance to the door. Jerking it open, he watched the petite blonde take a staggering step back. Her gaze skittered up and down his body, and her eyes got big. Cursing under his breath, he realized that he’d forgotten to cover himself. All his old battle scars were on full display and apparently scaring the hell of her. Looking down, he saw the bandage on his leg wound was bloody again. Fuck, he really needed to stay off his leg for a bit.

  “You’re bleeding again,” her trembling voice pointed out the obvious, gnawing away at his irritability.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Ryder thought you might need some company.”

  Unsuccessfully trying to dial it down a n
otch, he barked, “I don’t fucking see Ryder anywhere.”

  Flinching, she took a second to pull herself together before speaking. “He noticed that you seemed real uptight.”

  Sighing, he dropped his hand from the door. “Why the hell are you here, Lys?”

  “He sent me to see if you need…serviced.”

  “Do you want to stay the night?”

  “If you want me, I’ll stay.”

  He glared. “In that case, no, thank you. Have a nice fuckin’ night.”

  Slamming the door in her pretty face, he made a mental not to punch Ryder in the fucking face for trying to pimp women his way. It was shitty to a man like him. Like the other club women, Alyssa didn’t want any part of the man wearing a child molester’s face. He tried to imagine how looking up at him during intercourse would feel to one of them. Probably pretty fuckin’ disturbing, he imagined.

  Flinging himself back down onto the bed, he rolled over with his back to the door. Fuck them all for making it abundantly clear that he was the one and only brother that even club whores didn’t want. The way she’d stared at his body was unnerving. She didn’t look quite disgusted, more like appalled.

  In his own defense, Ace had come up hard. Joe had been sneaky and vicious when they were kids. His younger-by-three-minutes twin had shot him with pellets and BBs, burned him with a cattle branding iron, pierced his skin with various sharp objects, and ran him over with his dirt bike all before the age of fourteen. Add to that getting shanked in prison a couple of times over a ten-year period and his shootout with Ryder. The bottom line was, Ace knew damn good and well he looked monstrous.

  A line from a children’s fairy tale jumped to the forefront of his mind. Say there, monstrosity, do you know the time?

  Punching his pillow, he shifted to get comfortable. Fuck them all. He was lucky to even be alive.

  His mind drifted to the pretty redhead who had tended to his needs at the clinic. She hadn’t seemed put-off by his body. She’d been all kinds of interested in him and touched him easily—eagerly, in fact. Her tender touch was just what he’d needed to take the edge off during his time of suffering.

  She’d written her phone number on his arm in bold, black letters with a marker, and then promptly never answered his calls or texts. If she wasn’t interested, why bother giving him her number? Maybe she’d acted impulsively and didn’t want to risk a repeat performance.

  Something ugly churned up in his gut at the thought of her mistaking him for his brother. That was something that happened regularly when his brother was alive, but not so much anymore.

  Closing his eyes, Ace forced himself to quiet. He went to his happy place. Lying in a field of fresh-smelling wildflowers where nothing could touch him, he stared up at the imaginary sky. Big, fluffy clouds drifted by. Hearing a bee buzzing nearby, he imagined it flying from flower to flower, gathering pollen. A far-away dog barking joined the soft buzzing sound.

  Anxiety crept forward from the back of his mind. That wasn’t supposed to happen when he went to his happy place. Suddenly, the buzzing got louder, and a jolt of electricity surged through his body. Sitting up in his wonderful dream world, he saw his brother with a cattle prod in his hand. Shaking his head, Ace felt the fury building in his gut. This was supposed to be his safe place. Yet, here was Jo, invading it, just like he had every other aspect of his life.

  The clouds turned dark as his brother cackled maniacally, approaching him with the electronic cattle prod. As the storm gathered overhead, Ace realized the barking was getting closer. His subconscious mind knew what that meant. A chill crept up his spine and he braced himself for what was to come. Why is it that there is no getting out of a fight with the crazy bastard, even now that he’s dead?

  Movement and sound converged to alert him to Sparky’s presence. Tonight, like in all his other nightmares, the poor animal presented sans his skin. Barking furiously, he acted more like his deranged brother than the pet Ace once knew and loved.

  With the dark clouds circling in one direction and his brother the other, Ace knew he was in for a rough night.

  ~ Barbara ~

  Bouncing around her new home, Barbara unpacked her things from storage. When the last of it was finished, she decided to reward herself with some light yoga and a nice long bath before heading out to teach her night class.

  Flipping on her big screen TV, she unrolled her yoga mat. A few downward dogs, planks, and mighty warrior poses later, she was feeling calm and relaxed. Dropping into the Bharadvaja's Twist, she closed her eyes and began counting to ten.

  The tranquil moment was broken by someone pounding on her front door. Creating a protective barrier in her mind, she tried to shut out the ugly noise. There was only one person in the entire world ballsy enough to assault her door that way, and there was no way that she was going to let him keep shattering every moment of inner peace she managed to find.

  Her door rattled loudly, and David’s irritated voice called out, “Don’t ignore me, Barb. I know you’re in there because your car’s in the driveway and I hear that ridiculous yoga music you love so much, so open the damned door.”

  Finally letting go of any pretense of having privacy in her own home, she came gracefully to her feet. Padding over the plush carpet, she opened the front door.

  “I knew you’d come running to the door like a little lost puppy when I came calling.”

  Staring at her enraged ex-husband, Barbara simmered inside at his words. “From now on, ring the doorbell. If I don’t answer in three buzzes, assume I’m otherwise occupied and just leave.”

  Disgusted was the word she’d choose for his expression. “You and I need to talk.”

  “No we don’t. We said it all at the divorce hearing.”

  Chuffing out an ugly laugh, he replied snidely, “I didn’t get nearly enough time to have my say, and most of it is for your ears only.”

  “Fine, spit it out, and then leave me alone.”

  He looked taken aback for a moment but recovered almost instantly. After opening and closing his mouth a few times, he finally managed to produce words. “Don’t expect me to come running when you fall flat on your face.”

  Folding her arms over her chest, she leashed her frustration in an effort to be civil. “We’re officially divorced. I don’t see why you’re still trying to run my life.”

  Snorting derisively, he glared at her. “Someone needs to.”

  The man could get under her skin quicker than anyone she’d ever met. Swallowing back the scathing retort that came to mind, she tried to be reasonable. “I earn a decent salary, pay my own mortgage, have car insurance in place, as well as my own health care. I wouldn’t say that I’m in danger of falling on my face.”

  “I know how much first-year professors make. You, my dear, are living paycheck to paycheck. The first time your car breaks down or your HVAC craps out, you’ll be needing me.”

  Stepping back and grabbing the door, Barbara decided arguing about hypotheticals was an absurd waste of time for both of them. Her patience for answering to the man she was no longer married to had come to an end as well. “I really won’t need you for anything, but thanks for playing. Bye-bye now.” Attempting to shut the door proved a fruitless endeavor, when he wedged his shiny dress shoe between the door and the frame.

  “I’m not quite finished talking to you, young lady.”

  Glaring at him, she intoned, “I’m almost thirty.”

  “On the outside, you may be twenty-nine, but on the inside, you’re more like a seventeen year old. You’ve blown through your half of the divorce settlement, and you need to know there’s no more money where that came from.”

  “Look, you pompous ass, the majority of that money went for a down payment on my house, to pay my car off, and buy furniture. That money was rightfully mine to do with as I please. I used it to make sure I never have to suffer the indignity of having you in my life again, and yet here you are.” Gosh, that whole plan to keep her cool sure didn’t last long. />
  His voice softened a smidge. “You can do a lot worse than a husband who just wants to take care of you.”

  “I fell for that line of bull once. Don’t think for a minute I’m ignorant enough to fall for it twice.”

  “Why don’t you let me come in? I haven’t had a decent cup of coffee since you left.”

  “Funny, you say that now, but when we were married, all you did was complain about my coffee, my cooking, and everything else under the sun.”

  “I loved your cooking.”

  “You should. Everything I make is gourmet. Maybe you can teach your girlfriend to cook all your favorite things, because I’m never making another bite for you to eat in this lifetime.”

  “This is a long conversation to have while standing on your tiny front porch. Let me come in and you can copy down recipes for her while I drink a cup of java.”

  “I’ve got a better idea. How about you get your ridiculously tiny clown foot out of my doorway before I kick you in the shin?”

  “No coffee then?”

  “Nope. No sharing recipes or making nice with the homewrecker you cheated on me with either, you gigantic dick.”

  “You never talked to me with such disrespect when we were married.”

  Kicking him in shin just hard enough for him to jerk back, she caught his eye. “I’ve turned over a new leaf. Get the hell out of my life or I’ll take out a restraining order.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Try me, big boy. I’ll bet that would tarnish the public image you work so hard to cultivate.” Slamming the door in his face, Barbara turned around and leaned her back against the door. Taking a deep breath, she waited for the inevitable outburst. David always managed to get in the last word, no matter the situation.

  Sure enough, his surly voice sounded off within seconds. “I’ve heard all about your bar-hopping and whoring around, don’t think I haven’t.”

  Now that pissed her the hell off. Turning, she placed both palms against the door. “At least I waited until I was divorced to date. Don’t ever forget that this breakup is on you, David. You’re the one who could never keep your pants zipped.”

 

‹ Prev