On Borrowed Time (Men of Honor book 3)

by Rhonda Lott

  Alana scooted up in the seat to peek out the windshield. Ace was strolling back. He moved with a fluid grace, long confident strides reminding her of his masterful command over her body last night. What a picture of male superiority was he, powerful, sexy, and above all fiercely dedicated. Alana swallowed hard. Her heart fluttering. What was it about him that shook her up so? They had known each other for such a short while. To be honest, she had fallen a little in love with Ace Jackson months ago when she compiled his background information. Ace was the walking, talking, definition of the good guy. Boy Scout was what Bates laughingly called him, the jealous little prick. Bates was a sick, twisted man in thoughts and actions. Ace on the other hand was simply a great man in a bad world.

  “All clear, you ready?” Ace opened her door.

  “What happened, you were gone a long time?”

  “Bates was there, we had a few words.” Ace placed her hand in his as they strolled down the sidewalk.

  “Hold up, wait.” Alana tugged his hand, stopping. “The bloody knife he left behind, is it the murder weapon?”

  “He didn’t flat out admit to anything, but my gut tells me he still has the knife. That little stunt with the other knife in my picture was his amateurish attempt to mess with our heads.”

  “What about the girls and Carol, did you see them?”

  “No, I wanted us to do that together.”

  As they approached, Alana appreciated the somber house on the corner. Nothing special about its appearance, a simple two-story brick house, but she knew better. If the walls could talk, the tales of love and dedication this place would tell. Opening the door, Alana led Ace inside. The clattering of silverware against dishes, laughter and high-pitched voices filled the air along with the smell of cookies baking in the oven. An overwhelming sense of rightness overtook Alana. She was home.

  Alana took it all in, the living area with old but sturdy sofas sitting at an angle to each other. Pictures of the girls, old and new, hung on the walls and lined table tops. Straight ahead of her was the kitchen and dining area where six girls sat eating breakfast with Carol. Alana watched them silently for a few seconds. Page and Rebecca sat as usual side by side, chattering like the best friends they were. They were quite a contrasting pair. Page deep dark brown skin and naturally kinky high puff and Rebecca with her ever-present bright red ponytail and pale complexion. They were both tall, slim, and inseparable. The twins, Trina and Tanya were giggling to a joke they shared between them. At ten, they were the youngest, and by far the naughtiest. Their long braids were loose today and swirling across matching fawn brown faces. Ellie sat quietly, concentrating on her plate. Ash blond curls obscuring her features from view. She was new and terribly shy. Lady London, Alana smiled at the nickname the girls had given the oldest of them, was in deep conversation with Carol. London was seventeen going on thirty, a feisty Latina with thick raven black hair and a stunning appearance. She was a kindhearted girl that worked a part time job, and did excellent in school. London would be transitioning out soon. Alana knew she would have a real shot at a great life. Carol smiled at something London was saying, laugh lines appeared at her eyes. Carol was Alana’s old social worker, recently retired. The tiny Asian woman was a cross between Mother Teresa and a drill sergeant.

  “Alana.” Carol gasped.

  The girls as a collective unit screamed and all but knocked poor Carol over as they bolted for Alana. Trina and Tanya got to her first, wrapping their arms around her, pressing their faces into her stomach. Alana felt hot tears burn her eyes, how she had missed these two. Rebecca hugged her neck and kissed her cheek, then stepped back. She was sixteen now, Alana had missed her birthday two weeks ago. Lord, she had missed so much. Page gave her a warm smile, Ellie and London took their turns hugging her around the twins who weren’t letting go.

  “Girls give Alana some air please.” Carol’s voice sweet and clear broke through the noise.

  “Hi sweethearts.” Alana said, but they weren’t paying her any attention anymore. All eyes were on Ace, of course they were, and they were female despite their ages.

  “Who is he? Page, the boldest of the group asked. Ace chuckled behind her.

  “This is my friend Officer Ace Jackson.”

  Tanya pulled away from her, “Is he going to take you away from us, the way that other cop did?”

  Alana opened her mouth to answer, but Ace spoke up first. “Yes, pretty girl. I have to take her with me when I leave today, but I promise to keep her safe and bring her home real soon.”

  The twins let her go, Trina pulled Ace’s shirt and he bent down to her. “You’re pretty too.” She smiled and everyone laughed. Carol grabbed his hand and walked him into the living room. The girls followed anxious to be close to the handsome police officer. Alana stood at the door, forgotten. Damn, the lady-killer strikes again. She smiled to herself, picturing him naked stretched out on his bed as she rode him to a screaming climax. The image brought a throb to her center. He was her lady-killer, at least for now.

  ACE

  He rested back in his chair, stomach full of Ms. Carols chicken noodle soup and roast beef sandwich. Alana was helping to wash the after lunch dishes and chatting with the older woman. Quiet rained over the house. The four older girls had taken off to see a show and the twins were outside in the backyard doing something destructive he was sure. Those two were damn cute. The stories Alana and Carol shared about them ranged from pouring water on the sidewalk to freeze and trip the first unfortunate person to stroll by, to them stealing and hiding all the panties in the house whenever the mood struck them. Ace smiled at the thought. Being an only child he didn’t have anybody to play around and do dumb stuff with. He never realized how isolated his young life actually was.

  Closing his eyes, Ace saw Alana as she was earlier, standing in the doorway to her old bedroom. The entire room was a shambled mess, similar to his apartment. They even ripped open the mattress. Brave Alana entered the place where her nightmare began, her brow creased, biting her bottom lip. Body still as if she was holding her breath from an awful smell, Alana went through the motions. Placing books on shelves, righting pictures, and packing clothes in a small bag, she worked with quick, jerky movements only stopping once her eyes riveted to the floor at the side of her bed.

  Ace’s heart stilled. There was no telling bloodstain but he knew what that spot meant to her. Alana didn’t glance his way and kept her lips clamped down tight. Ace longed to take her in his arms to comfort her, if only for a moment. The turning point in her life, this space of wrenching sadness, where the body of her closest and dearest friend’s blood soaked the hardwood. Where she was once safe and happy. Tragic loss of a soul so important to her slumped her shoulders and drew the color from her skin, and yet she held it all together somehow. This wasn’t an act to deceive him. Alana wasn’t sharing an instant of the pain. She wasn’t playing it up to gain sympathy from him. She was plowing headfirst through a nightmare, dry eyed, silent, and with heartbreaking courage. Ace’s respect for her rose to new heights. She was amazing.

  Alana came to stand before him, her canvas bag clutched to her chest, her only shield in this dark place. Her hazel eyes swam with moisture.

  “He has to pay. Bates can’t kill her and get away with it.” Her trembling hand rested upon her chest. “She was all I had, the only family I had left.”

  “He will pay. I promise you that.”

  She nodded, leaving him there in the destroyed room and the tattered remains of her past.

  Warm air blew across the side of his face, smelling strongly of chocolate and bringing Ace back to the present. Tanya stood next to his chair, shifting from one foot to the other, her hands on her tiny hips.

  “Hey, pretty girl. What’s up?”

  “You’re a cop and that means you carry a gun, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “You ever shoot somebody?”

  “Not tellin. Why?”

  “I want ya to teach me to shoot.”
/>   “I can’t teach a ten year old to shoot a gun, you know that, right?”

  “I’m talking about in the game, silly.” She giggled. “My sister wins each time we play Xbox. She can shoot the zombies quicker than me. If you help me, you know, teach me to shoot better, I might win.” She grabbed his hand tugging him up and towards where Trina was playing a video game in the living room.

  Alana placed her hand on his shoulder. “This is going to be interesting. Trina is the champion zombie killer of the house.”

  Trina kicked his ass all afternoon. Shooting a real gun was far less complicated than shooting from a game controller, too many damn buttons. Alana saved the day and his pride by announcing that it was time for them to leave. Both little girls focused all their attention to the game, simultaneously sliding closer together on the sofa. Numb to people abandoning them, the twins refused to allow the pain of Alana leaving again reach them. They had each other.

  “When we come back, I demand a rematch.” Ace told the girls, identical grins spread across their faces.

  “Alana, you better teach him to shoot before you come back, cause he sucks.” Trina teased.

  Alana laughed, kissed them both on the forehead. “I’ll do that, see you soon, promise.”

  Steal gray clouds hung heavy in the sky promising freezing evening rain. The world outside his window felt shadowy and void of life. The atmosphere in the truck’s cab mirrored the forlorn bleakness of the weather. Ace could only imagine her thoughts. Being separated from the girls once more, reliving her last night of terror in that place, and weighed down by an uncertain future must be breaking her apart inside. Eyes closed, head resting on the back of the seat, and her hands folded in her lap, Alana appeared asleep. The face of an angel in the dim light, soft and adorable with that edgy little diamond gleaming. This woman was unexpected and edgy like that little twinkling stone in her dimple. She was strong, his firecracker. Ace had to admit to himself that his respect for Alana was growing every second he was with her. She sparked something in him.

  Her dedication to the group home came from her deep respect for the woman that raised her. He knew that feeling well. His respect for his dad was the reason he stayed a cop for so long. In that house, the girls got a safe place to grow up and Alana invested all her energy to keeping it that way. She suffered under Blanco and Bates for the sake of those young souls.

  There were no barriers holding Bates back from harming those girls, or Carol. Ace’s chest tightened and his fingers gripped the steering wheel hard enough to crush it. Bates was teetering on the edge; it glowed out of the man’s eyes. A person that out of control was capable of unspeakable acts of desperation. Ace had to stop him before that happened, because like it or not, Alana and those girls were his to protect. Luckily, he had learned a thing or two from David McAdams, the master of protection. Bates and whoever his mystery top dog was didn’t have long to wait. Ace planned to take this fight straight to their door, blow that bitch down and kick some serious ass. No more fucking with women and kids. That shit was over.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ACE

  Ace didn’t know what to expect. A heavy sense of unease coiled in the pit of his stomach, not the relief he imagined he might feel. The third floor was the domain of Chief Maxwell Lewis. If any man alive could understand his dissatisfaction with the job, the chief would. Max was a friend of his dad. A second dad in many ways. The chief was always one to encourage his men.

  A frown creased Ace’s face when the elevator doors dinged open. The old but sturdy desk of Max’s secretary was the first thing you saw, but now there was a sleek lightwood and steel desk with a young blond woman behind it. What the fuck? When did all this remodeling happen? Ace plastered on a smile and let the woman know he had an appointment with Max. Cassie, her nametag read. She boldly gave him a full body survey, taking her time appraising him, licking her lips like a hungry predator ready to pounce. Ace was tempted to cover his junk from her visual strip job.

  “You can go right in officer, he’s waiting for you.” She purred.

  A shudder ran down his spine. He didn’t have time to analyze why her interest left him cold as the temperature outside. She didn’t have warm hazel eyes that cast a spell over you or a sexy little piercing in her dimple. Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Ace entered the chief’s office only to have his Jordan’s squeak to a halt in the doorway.

  The place was totally transformed. Gone was the outdated 80’s office furnishings, in its place was a high-end cherry wood desk and black leather chairs. A couch and matching chairs that would be at home in a Buckhead mansion formed a cozy sitting area in one corner. A wide screen television took up practically an entire wall.

  Ace let out a long whistle and grinned. “You getting fancy in your old age, huh big dog?”

  “A few necessities to make the long, long hours more comfortable.” Max shot back as he stood, almost knocking over a pencil holder, when he gestured for Ace to take a seat.

  Ace lowered himself into the butter soft leather seat. Closed blinds left the room dim, weak light filtered from two gold sconces behind Max. Even in the limited light, it shocked Ace the drastic changes in his family friend. Max was always a substantial sized man, but now his starched white shirt and blue slacks swallowed him up. His head was now completely bald and gleamed with beads of perspiration. His dark chocolate complexion was patchy, dull, and aged beyond his years. A knot formed in Ace’s gut. Was Max ill? No way. The man was invincible.

  “Damn, I can’t get over how much you resemble your old man. He spit you out, that’s for sure.” Max said with a laugh that morphed into a hacking cough. He took a second to recover as he shifted items around on the desktop. “What can I do for you son?”

  “I wanted you to be the first to know. I’ve resigned my position this morning.” Ace told him, not taking his eyes from Max’s gaze. “I didn’t come to this decision lightly. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for some time now. I need to take my life in a new direction.”

  Something strange, almost frightening flickered across the chief’s face for a split second until he schooled his features back to normal. The face he’d known all his life.

  Something dark and haunting tugged at Ace’s consciousness. A flash of awareness that had his curiosity sparked. The lavish new office, Max’s disheveled appearance; his anxious behavior sent warning bells blaring in Ace’s mind. A strange taste formed on his tongue.

  “Well, I’m sorry to lose you, but I wish you well.” Max said, his gaze never quite reaching Ace’s face.

  What was this? I’m sorry to see you go. This from the man who cried tears of joy alongside his dad the day he joined the force. That knot in Ace’s stomach grew into the size of a basketball. As Ace stood to take his leave, Max extended his hand across the polished wood. A flicker of gold caught Ace’s attention. Flashbacks flew through his head, cascading black and white still photos of all the times Max showed off this particular piece of jewelry. Max wore that ring on special occasions. His family ring with a black onyx stone. That’s why the ring in the video was familiar to him. He’d seen it before but for the love of God, he didn’t want to believe Max was in bed with the cartel or the dirty cops.

  Ace’s throat closed too tight for him to form words. He simply walked out the office. Once inside the elevator, he recognized that foul taste in his mouth. It was the taste of betrayal and it was as bitter today as it was thirteen years ago when he watched his mother drive away forever.

  Ace paced the confining space, needing air. When the elevator doors chimed so did his cell phone, an incoming text. It was Alana.

  HURRY, AT DEKALB HOSPITAL, I NEED YOU!

  ALANA

  The Uber dropped her off in front of the emergency room entrance. Alana paid the driver her last forty bucks. The school nurse sounded legit. Tanya had a seizure in class, was unconscious and unresponsive, the paramedics were called and the child was rushed to Dekalb Medical Hospital. Dealing with the criminal unde
rworld taught Alana to be smart about all her actions. She called the school back and asked the principal’s secretary if she was aware of the situation, the secretary repeated what the nurse told her. Tanya was in trouble. She had to go to the hospital. The glass doors swooshed open and she stepped inside, attempting to call Carol and texting Ace on her way.

  The place was busy, but not overly crowded. A reception desk was directly in front of the entrance. To her right and left were glass partitioned waiting areas. Three people waited in line to speak to the receptionist, Alana got in line behind them. She kept her eyes moving around the emergency room. Double doors beyond the desk led into the treatment area. One long hallway with vending machines and restrooms was to her left and she saw no other exit, but back the way she came in. Not a great set up, not if she had to escape a threat.

  Two people down and now the man with a bloody towel pressed to his forehead was talking to the woman behind the clear partition. A cold prickle of alarm washed over her. Alana quickly scanned the expansive room, nothing. A small unmanned desk with the word security in bright yellow letters across the front of it caught her eye. What would a “rent a cop” do if a real cop arrested her? Absolutely nothing.

  “Next.” The receptionist barked.

  Alana jerked at the shrill voice and stepped up to the window. The woman’s face was pinched and her brows pulled down in a harsh slash across her face. Was she pissed or was her face permanently set in stone?

  “What is the nature of your emergency?” She asked with an arctic bite in her voice.

  That timid woman she had been for years attempted to flare back to life. Alana squared her shoulders, resisted the urge to duck her head and cringe away from the harsh woman, and stomped her old self down. Fuck this bitch.