Ace's Redemption

by A. C. Bextor

  Looking at Joseph as he stands next to me, I notice his tall frame looks gaunt. It’s apparent that this week took just as much of a toll on him as it did me. Although just meeting him the one time, I notice his face is paler and his eyes have sunken slightly. I drank whiskey all week to pacify my worry. It doesn’t appear that Joseph ate anything at all during his.

  “I don’t want her to know I’m here, Joe. I’m going to the club tomorrow. Do you know if she’s working?”

  “I can ask, but she works every Tuesday thru Sunday night. She should be there.” He pauses, making eye contact before continuing. “What is it you plan to do? I can’t say I’m not a little worried about you running yourself out there and finding trouble for her or you.”

  Knowing he’s right and not listening to his reasoning are two entirely different things. Being in Cherry’s room, among her teenage possessions before her life took the violent turn, leaves my angry, protective instinct to overpower reasonable thinking.

  “That friend of yours that works at the station, can he help?”

  “No, afraid not. He wasn’t supposed to help me like he did. He’s not actually a cop. He’s a clerk who did me a favor. He knows Raegan, they went to high school together.”

  This is of no help. I’m completely alone in this, and it’s not a good situation to be in. I have one alternative, but reaching out to those who can assist isn’t something I’m looking forward to.

  “I’m gonna make a call. I need you to understand that what I’m doing may not be what she wants but that said, I need you to support me. This is important.”

  “Ace, I can tell you now, because I couldn’t tell you then, but the day you brought Raegan home…” He stops as his emotions near the surface, threatening his bravery.

  Once gathering himself, he continues. “That day felt like I was being given another chance. She looked happy and healthy, and all these years I hadn’t pictured her anything but dead. He ruined her and I let him.”

  “You didn’t. He targeted her.”

  Shockingly, he admits to meeting Vinnie all those years ago. “I shook his hand. I looked him in the eye and treated him like a man; an equal.” Dropping to his knees, I watch him crumble with confession. His breaths are uneven as he looks to me standing above him and I can only watch as tears start to fall from his face. “What kind of father misses that?”

  Bending down, I rest my weight on my feet and as I put my hand on his shoulder, the sobs of grief and regret overtake him. “This isn’t your fault.” I don’t know what else to say to him. Part of me is glad he’s suffering, finally understanding the result of his ignorance, but I share in his regret. I let her down just as he did.

  “I’m going out to make that call. Get yourself together. If I get her and she doesn’t want to be here, you’re going to need all your strength to help convince her this isn’t up for debate.”

  As we stand, he wipes his eyes and nods his head to confirm he understands me. Looking around her room, he studies her things as if seeing them for the first time; books, notebooks, pens, and pencils litter any available space. “I can see why she loves you. You’ve done everything for her that I didn’t. One day, I hope she forgives me.”

  Walking out the bedroom door, I turn and find him looking down in shame. “She forgave you a long time ago. Let the past go. There’s no reason to live where you’ll never make a difference. Your daughter taught me that.”

  He nods, saying nothing in response. As I head toward the front door, I stop long enough to glance at Cherry’s mother. Anna stops her project briefly and looks at me; anger and disappointment taint her features. She doesn’t believe, as Joseph does, that Cherry is a person worth saving.

  Setting her needle and thread in her lap, she mumbles under her breath and discharges her feelings about Cherry with a piercing arrogance. “You’re wasting time. She’s a whore. She’ll never be anything else.”

  “Why do you hate her?”

  “I don’t hate her. She’s my daughter. I just don’t like her, there’s a difference.”

  “Is there? ‘Cause I’ve known you for about an hour and I fuckin’ hate you. No worry of difference to be had there.”

  Disregarding my feelings for her, she continues as if she didn’t hear a word I said. “When she was little, she used to cry all the time. It was endless. She needed my attention every second. I tried to teach her patience and understanding so she wouldn’t always feel the need to be the center of attention. I must have failed because look where she’s at. She’s certainly the center of attention now.”

  I hate her, so I explain that in words of contempt since this is all she truly understands. “I don’t say this nicely, and you can blame my parents for not teaching me ‘patience and understanding’, but lady, you’re a fucking cunt.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  She gasps loudly while grabbing her neck with her hand. She can visualize me strangling her all she wants. It doesn’t change my feelings for her in the least. In fact, I wish she’d strangle herself, saving everyone the trouble in silencing her.

  Painting a look of disdain, she picks up her thread and starts back on her project as if this conversation never took place. “You and Raegan deserve each other.”

  “That’s the nicest thing you’ve said since you’ve opened your goddamn mouth. So, thank you.” With my last thought voiced, I walk away.

  That fuckin’ bitch and I will never be friends.

  As I listen to the call go through, I feel my chest ache. I’m making the call to the only true family Cherry’s ever known and I’m calling to tell them I let her down. In the eyes of those I once called my brothers, this is an eternal sin and I should be punished. At this moment, though, I don’t fucking care.

  “Hem.” I find immediate relief in his voice. It relaxes me. I hadn’t realized I was completely overtaken with fear.

  Exhaling, I get the introductions over with. “It’s Ace.”

  “Well, motherfucker, how are things? Cherry’s doing well, I hope.”

  My admission shouldn’t surprise Hem of all people. “No, she’s not. I fucked up.”

  “Fuck, Ace. Talk to me.”

  “I’m in Vegas. I have something here, and I don’t think I can do it alone. I need your help and you said I could call. I’m calling.”

  “Vegas? You were taking Cherry to Cali, how the fuck did you end up in Vegas?”

  Rubbing my face, I continue to plead for help. “It’s a long story, Hem. If you’re willing to help, I can explain it but if not, please don’t waste my time.”

  “Hood’s there, ya know? If you think you need help faster than I can offer, you can call him.”

  Hood, a friend of Peril, isn’t enough. He’s tough and could assist, but I’m not completely comfortable with him as I am the others. “I need you and Shame.”

  I hear him quietly exhale into the phone before responding to my plea. “You needing Shame… this is big, isn’t it?”

  “I think so. Enough that I know I can’t do this alone.”

  “Talk to me.”

  After briefing Hem and then listening to him rip my ass as he always did in the past, I hang up and wait for him to call back. He’s going to talk to a few of the MC brothers and find out what kind of assistance they can offer.

  After disconnecting the call, I make my way back into the house, cell phone in hand, and find Joseph sitting at the kitchen table, looking just as solemn as I left him a few minutes ago. I don’t have the strength or energy to coddle him, so I leave him be in search for a much-needed moment alone.

  Walking into Cherry’s room, I close the door and sit on her bed. The urge to walk into that club, grab her and bring her back here to safety is consuming me. Reaching in my pocket, I pull out the guitar pick pendant I brought with me. My fingers trace the edges and as they do, I picture Cherry sitting on my bed waiting to give it to me.

  I thought of you when I saw it and I wanted to get it, so just open it.r />
  Opening my phone with urgency, I send a quick text to let her know I’m thinking about her. She won’t text me back. I’m unsure she’s ever even gotten any of my messages since she left.

  Ace 04:26 p.m. Thank you for the necklace. I don’t think I ever told you that. I miss you so fuckin’ much, Rae.

  After sending the message, I stand and visually scan her room. Drawings hang from her walls, mixed with various posters of nothing in particular. She was free from darkness once, and I’m fighting to get her that again.

  As I walk to her closet, I see a stack of compact discs scattered on the floor. Thumbing through them, I’m forced to admit a smile. She wasn’t messing with me when she explained her love of old music. Kenny Rogers, Neil Diamond, Barbra Streisand, and Elton John make up most of the collection.

  The next time she wants to listen to this shit in my truck, the answer is yes, always yes.

  Pulling me from recent memories, my phone sits ringing on Rae’s bed. The caller ID display says unknown, but I know who this is. This is going to be another well-deserved ass-chew from a man who hates me but tolerates me all the same.

  I answer on a sigh, dreading the voice at the other end. “Ace.”

  “You can’t possibly be this fuckin’ stupid.”

  Yep, called it. Shame Carrick would kill me if he thought for one moment my life on Earth didn’t matter to anyone. His distaste from me goes as far back as the day I became a prospect in Peril. I was a different person then. I had a habit of starting trouble wherever I went.

  After Shame found out my involvement in Hem’s disappearance, he went from hating me to strongly disliking me. However, when Shame Carrick dislikes you, it still borders on whether he wants you alive or dead. He knows of my sister and Bean, so I’m sure this is the only reason he lets me continue to remain upright and breathing.

  “Fuck, do you have to start this shit right now?”

  “Fuck yes, I do, goddamn it. She’s been through enough, don’t you think?” Shame has a tendency to explain the obvious in a way that makes you question if you didn’t already know it.

  “Are you helping or not?”

  “For her, I am. For you, I am not. We’re en route. Girls are coming, too. Thought I’d let you know, Sadey included.”

  Fuck me, this is not happening. I haven’t given much thought to her in weeks, and now finding she’s on her way with the boys, I want to vomit.

  “Okay.”

  “Ace, I swear to Christ, you so much as look at her…” Again, Shame Carrick explaining the obvious.

  “It’s done, so stop, all right? She’s not where my head’s at.”

  “And your heart? That still with her?”

  “No.”

  “Well, thank fuck for small insights then. Hem’s getting Honor and Gunner briefed, we’re flyin’. Mind you, mother fucker, I hate flyin’ and I’m doing this…”

  Enough. The man is relentless when making his point. “For her, not me. Shame, I get it.”

  “Good.”

  The phone call disconnects before I can ask any questions at all.

  Putting the CDs back as they were, my phone chimes with an incoming text. My first hope is that it’s Cherry, but as I read it my hopes instantly fade.

  Hem 04:38 p.m. Don’t walk in that club without us. Sit tight and don’t think, Ace. Text me her dad’s address, and we’ll meet you there tomorrow afternoon before four.

  I’ve never listened to Hem. It’s become painfully obvious that I’ve never listened to anyone, and I’ve got no reason to change.

  A few hours later, my patience has reached its end. I can no longer sit here and watch Joe worry, and Anna has me rethinking my self-promise of never hitting a woman. I’ve got to do something. I want to at least see her, look at her, if nothing else.

  Standing from the kitchen table, I put my beer down and pull Cherry’s dad from his thoughts. “Joe, I need the address to the club and I need your car.”

  His look is surprised, but his words are hopeful. “You’re going in there alone? Tonight?”

  “I’m going in there right now. I want to see her.”

  SAYING GOODBYE TO Decklan before my shift this evening was emotional. He asked why my eyes were “leaking” and I insisted it was because I was feeling sick; that I’m just old, tired¸ and achy. As he hugged me goodbye, I kissed the top of his head and Maria watched in concern. I left him there with her, praying he would be okay away from me for a few nights.

  The club is busier than usual, and the customers are in hasty demand. I’m working tables with Tara, faking the confidence I can’t truly muster to make it until my shift is over. Vinnie’s here this evening working in his office. He hasn’t uttered a single word to me since Monday while advising me of his plan to reclaim what’s his. Vinnie enjoys pain. He gets off on the sound of my screams and cries of mercy, no matter the degree of my compliance.

  “Are you all right, honey? You look a little pale. Is everyone doing okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m a little tired, though.”

  Tara smiles and lifts her eyebrows for expression. “That hot boss keepin’ you up late at night, I see.”

  Rolling my eyes, I grab my tray from the bar and when I turn around, I drop it as shock rivets throughout my body. Ace is standing at the bar on the opposite side of the club. He’s wearing his grey Henley rolled up his forearms, his faded jeans with the well-worn rips, and his black motorcycle boots. He’s scanning the crowd as though he knows what he’s looking for.

  He’s talked to my dad. That’s how he found me.

  Fear and grief fill my chest as I resist the urge to run into the safety of his arms.

  Cutting my view of him, Tara steps in front of me, grabs my shoulders, and squeezes tight to garner my attention. “Cherry? Hey!”

  Snapping out of my daze, I meet her eyes after realizing I’ve just dropped my bank on the floor. “Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not okay. Go sit down. Jesus, Cherry, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  Maybe I have. When I look beyond her shoulders again, Ace isn’t there. His beer sits alone on the bar. Darting my eyes quickly throughout the room, I still don’t find him.

  “Here. Don’t worry about the rest, we’ll get it after close.” Tara is shoving dollar bills in my plastic container and wiping the tray with a bar rag. Smoothing my hair at the side, she tilts her head and tells me, “Cherry, if you want to talk to me, I’m here. I don’t say this without concern, but I’m not unaware of Vinnie Bartone and his ways with women.”

  I nod in response.

  “Vinnie wants to see you.” I hear Dominic’s deep voice from behind me before he stands at my side, taking the tray from my hands. Handing it to my friend, he finishes, “Tara, you’re gonna look after her tables for the rest of the night.”

  Fearing what Vinnie wants, my body reacts to the light-headed sensation. I sway and find myself being pulled by the arm and taken by Dominic. Vinnie’s going to make good on his promise early, and this walk to his office is my last act of freedom.

  Briefly, I fight it. Ripping my arm from Dominic’s hold, I get free, momentarily. “Don’t fuck with me, Cherry. Boss said to bring you in, and that’s what I’m doing.” I hear his malicious tone even over the blaring music and crowds of people gathered around us. He stops moving me momentarily, long enough to listen to his ear piece then he turns to me and gives direction. “Camera room. Let’s get moving.”

  Vinnie’s caught Ace here, as well.

  I follow Dominic down a long, dark hallway and when he opens the door at the end of it, he allows me to walk in alone. I hear the metal click of the door clasping shut before I hear Vinnie’s anger.

  “You’ve brought trouble.” My assumption was right - he’s seen Ace.

  Vinnie’s leaning against a desk, and a wall framed with television sets feed the camera angles behind him. I see several screen shots from the cameras placed throughout the club. The bathroom entrance, behind the bar, the dance f
loor. I have bird’s eye view of every square foot.

  His demanding question. “Why is he here?”

  My honest answer. “I don’t know. I saw him only for a second, then he was gone.”

  He contemplates for a moment, then asks, “Do you remember what Marcus said?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you bring him here?”

  “No.”

  Turning around and looking down at the desk, Vinnie picks up a remote and I watch him click the center console, changing its channel. On the screen is a close-up of Ace. He’s sitting alone at a table near the club’s entrance. He’s searching the crowd with the frustration of not finding me. His jaw is ticking and his eyes are narrowed, the glare of the dance floor lights dulling his view.

  “Vinnie, I swear I didn’t…”

  Slap.

  I’m struck across the face before finishing the truth of my innocence. My jaw burns and my eyes are watering. Vinnie accepts my sign of weakness and grabs my shoulders, viciously turning me around to stand in front of him. The front of my thighs hit the desk with brutal force as he grabs my chin, squeezing it in his hold as he stands against my back.

  I hear the hiss in his words, the tone a vicious indicator for what’s coming. “You’re mine. Because of this, I think Ace needs to be forgotten.”

  I don’t understand his meaning with clarity until he pushes my face into the desk, causing my nose to bleed on impact. Moving his hand up my skirt, he rips the thong away and tosses it to the ground. He grinds his hardened cock on my body before pulling my hair and lifting my head.

  “You’re going to watch him look for you while I refresh your memory of me. You’re going to remember the last time you saw his face as a time I was inside you.”

  Tears of anger, pain, fear, and sadness openly fall from my eyes. I taste the blood in my mouth as it drips down my face, the metallic taste of it lost on me. “Please, Vinnie.”

  “Good girl. Beg, Cherry. I miss hearing you beg for my mercy.”