Jack looked at the other man, really looked at him. Ace meant every word, Jack knew, and for the first time since this whole working relationship had started up, Jack saw Ace as a guy who was willing to go the distance for a cause. Yeah, the cause may be himself, but it wasn’t just about him. It was about Liam, too, and Jack was astounded at Ace’s commitment to a man that he hadn’t even been with in going on six years. That made Jack want to give Ace something – even if that something was just a small piece of good news.
“Ace?” he said.
“Hmmm?” Ace dried the mug and put it back on the shelf.
“Liam did more than just ask about you last week.”
Ace spun to face Jack. “He did? What did he say?”
“That he admires what you’re doing. That he thinks it takes guts.”
“He – he does? He really said that?”
“He did. He thinks you’re doing the right thing, helping us.”
Ace leaned back against the counter, and thought about that. Yeah, no doubt that’s exactly what Liam thought. The man had a real thing for bad boys, so Ace fit the bill perfectly, but that didn’t mean that Liam liked violence. He’d fallen for Ace despite his MC affiliations – and he’d begged hard for Ace to leave the Fallen Angels so they could be together. He'd wanted to leave Denver together, just go someplace where nobody knew them, start again.
Ace had considered it. He’d considered it more seriously than anyone, including Liam, knew. But in the end, the MC was his family, and it wasn’t a family that anyone walked away from easily. And, if truth be told, he was afraid to live openly as a gay man.
The other truth was that he’d stepped down hard on that part of himself for his whole life, and Liam was his first and only boyfriend. He’d long ago rejected his own sexual preferences, and learned to fake it with women… but then he’d met Liam, and pretending wasn’t possible anymore.
He’d risked it all to love that man for a little while – and then he’d lacked the courage to love him all the way. To this day, Ace regretted that decision. That regret made him bitter and angry, and that worked in his MC life, thank Christ. But it didn’t make him happy.
Ace looked up now to see Jack watching him with those fucking intense eyes. Right away, he threw up his defenses, glared on back at Jack, dared him to say something. He saw everything, Ace knew, though he didn’t know how he saw everything. The man was a walking lie-detector, a human x-ray, a virtual mind-reader or psychic. Ace knew that Jack had some training in profiling, but beyond that, the man’s abilities just looked like fucking voodoo.
Jack gave him that crooked grin, the one that said he knew what Ace was thinking, and his attempts to hide it were useless. But he took pity on Ace, thank fuck, and changed the subject.
“Anyway,” Jack said in that aggravatingly calm voice. “You’ll have to grab Shay Alcott, man, and you’ll need to do everything in your power to keep her safe.” He cocked his head. “You know who you’re going to give her to?”
“Give her to?” Ace repeated, perplexed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, which one of your MC boys will be given her charge?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
“Give her to Warren.”
“Warren?” Ace stared at Jack, puzzled. Then the pieces clicked in to place. “Oh. You mean Derby.”
“Derby?”
“Yeah. He patched in, remember, so he took a road name.”
“Why Derby?” Jack said.
Ace shrugged. “‘Cause he’s from Kentucky.”
Now Jack did roll his eyes. Kentucky Derby. Jesus. Well, I guess it’s better than Kentucky Fried Chicken.
“Yeah, OK,” he said wryly. “Anyway. Give Shay to Warren to look after.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a decent guy, and Shay’s going to be fucking terrified. She won’t need a hard-ass security guard, OK, she’ll need someone who can keep her calm and relaxed. You want her quiet and not causing any problems – the last thing you need is her giving your guys or Jensen any reason to punish her, or put her in her place. You hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Warren can do that. He can treat her with respect, and be kind. She’ll need that way more than someone who scares or beats her in to compliance.”
“OK,” Ace said slowly. “I’ll hand Shay over to Derby, then.”
“Good. And you keep me in the loop about this whole thing, yeah? The second you get details or the green light on collecting Shay, you let me know.”
“You going to follow us up to Montana?”
“I don’t know. That’s King’s call. But I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a tail for that trip.”
Ace nodded. He wouldn’t be surprised either, and in an odd way, he found that comforting. If shit went sideways with Shay Alcott, he was sure that King’s Men would step in and protect the girl. He wouldn’t be able to, he knew. Not without giving himself away… and no way Ace was giving himself away. He might as well shoot his own goddamn face off. His balls, too.
“Anything else?” Jack asked, pulling Ace out of his own thoughts. “Anything else going on?”
“No.” Ace shook his head. “Kirk’s still pulling back on things for now, letting things cool off a bit more. Too much attention on him right now, and he needs to take stock of his losses. Rethink strategy, bring in some new people, set up some new networks and channels. He’s busy with administrative shit, you know, so he’s got no time for anything operational.”
“Good.” Jack was satisfied. “Let the dickhead spin for a while, try to figure out how to set things up around everything and everyone he’s lost. That’ll keep him busy and quiet for a bit.”
“So I can just take it easy too, right?” Ace said. “Drink some beer, kick back?”
Jack eyed him. “So long as you keep your mouth shut, man.”
Ace snorted. “Believe me, Taylor… me staying quiet about our cooperation? Is the last fucking thing you need to worry about.”
Chapter Fifteen
Christmas Eve Day
Tessa woke up slowly, feeling like she was surrounded by the warmest, softest, fluffiest clouds. She smiled even before she’d opened her eyes, knowing that she was in Curtis’ arms. It was her favorite place to be, and the only place she wanted to wake up.
“Hey.” That husky voice rumbled under her ear, and she raised her head. “You awake, baby?”
“Kind of.” She blinked and rested her head on his chest. “Well, actually. No. What time is it?”
“Almost nine.”
She groaned. “I’ve got to get to the grocery store, and grab a few last-minute things for tomorrow.”
“Yeah. And I have to go pick something up downtown.”
Tessa propped her chin on her hand and gazed at him. He looked mysterious.
“What do you have to go pick up?” she asked.
“Never you mind, Miss Nosy.” He dropped a kiss on her adorable nose. “You just go get the food.”
“Ohhh-kay.” She wriggled away, sat up. “I’ll go jump in the shower.”
Curtis watched her pull his t-shirt over her unruly curls, loving everything about his life right now. Tessa was stronger and healthier than she’d been in years, and he thought that she became more stunning every single day. She had a calm to her, a deep and abiding joy and acceptance, and it was gorgeous to see.
“I’ll start the coffee,” Curtis said, swinging his feet on to the floor. “You think you’ll be long at the store?”
“It depends on the lines, I guess, but I can’t see me being back any later than noon.”
She stretched a bit now, her arms reaching for the ceiling, and he watched as the shirt pulled tight against her breasts. To his delight, as she’d gained more weight, her glorious, luscious curves had returned. Her hips were more ro
unded, her breasts more generous, her ass and thighs softer and more curved. Tessa was still about four pounds from the lowest end of the range that Rianna and her doctor recommended her to be, but she was working her way to the weight.
She was faithfully attending all her support group sessions, and she was listening to her own body. At long last, she really respected it when it spoke to her, and she’d told Curtis that she thought she’d be happier at the higher end of the healthy range. In her mind right now, her goal weight was one hundred and forty-six pounds, and she aimed to be there in the early New Year. It was fourteen pounds away from where she was right now, and Curtis thought she’d look simply incredible with that extra weight. And, amazingly, Tessa thought so too.
“Alright,” he said, tearing his mind away from what they’d been up to the night before. She’d been wild and hungry, and he’d taken her from behind, his hands in her hair, his mouth on her throat as he’d rammed in to her over and over. She’d pushed back against his thrusts, driving him harder and deeper than he ever thought possible. When Curtis had come, he’d literally seen stars and he’d collapsed next to her, panting and saying her name in wonder.
He watched her leave the bedroom now, and he stretched himself. He pulled on some boxers, wandered down to the kitchen. He started the coffee and stared out the window at the Rockies, admiring the snow on the mountains. He glanced around his tiny living room, loving that it was bursting with festive cheer. It was all courtesy of Tessa, of course. The woman was crazy about Christmas, and she’d insisted on decorating his apartment, insisted on a tree, insisted on hanging stockings. All of these things were totally alien to Curtis, but he’d welcomed them with enthusiasm.
This was the first real Christmas that Curtis would ever have in his life. As a kid, he’d never had any presents, of course, though his Mom had tried hard to cook something special, and bring home some candy. But that dickhead who lived with them would get drunk and furious, then he’d get violent. Curtis’ only Christmas memories until he was six included broken glass, shouting and accusations, and trips to the E.R.
In retrospect, he saw that his aunt and uncle had tried with him, they’d really tried. But he’d been an angry kid, and he’d rejected so much of the kindness they’d offered him over the years. They’d moved away to Florida four years earlier and they hadn’t been in touch, and Curtis didn’t blame them at all. He’d been a shut-down asshole for so long, and he’d never encouraged any relationship with them. He resolved to make that right soon, though. Maybe even take a trip down to Orlando, get to know his only living family again. Well, the only living family that he’d acknowledge, that is.
He popped some pieces of bread in to the toaster, rummaged around in the fridge for some fruit and yogurt. He made it his personal mission to keep healthy food in the house for Tessa, but he also made sure that she ate her toast with full-fat peanut butter. She was slowly but surely figuring out how to eat in a way that gave her energy and made her happy… and Curtis was thrilled that one of her favorite meals was his homemade pancakes with maple syrup. Licking it off her body was optional, but preferred.
Tessa emerged about ten minutes later in figure-hugging jeans and a casual, button-down shirt. Her hair was loose and gorgeous, her skin clear, her eyes brilliant. She smiled at the breakfast he’d prepared, accepted her coffee with a kiss.
“Thanks, babe,” she said. “Looks good.”
“You look good,” he said. “Great, actually.”
“Hmmm,” she purred, taking in his muscular torso and chiseled abs. “You too.”
“Now, now,” he teased. “We’ve got things to do today. No dragging me back to the bedroom.”
“Like I’d have to drag you,” she scoffed as she added sugar to her coffee.
“True enough,” he admitted. “I’d be there in half-a-second if you asked nicely.”
“Like I’d even have to ask nicely.”
“Sassy,” he muttered.
“Uh-huh. And you love it.”
“I like it,” he corrected her.
“No.” She grinned. “You love it.”
“OK. Fine. I love it.”
“Aha!” she crowed. “I knew it!”
“Don’t push your luck, sweetness.” His voice was a sexy growl. “If you insist on being mouthy, I can put that sweet little mouth to better use than sassing me.”
“Yeah?” She blinked at him innocently. “Like, sucking on your finger?”
“For starters.”
“Huh.”
His cell phone rang, and when he saw the number, he glanced at Tessa. “I need to take this in the other room.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Go on, then.” She ate some grapefruit. “I won’t listen.”
He dashed in to the bedroom, shut the door, answered the call.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Manning?”
“Yes. Are they there?”
“Yes, they arrived this morning, just as we promised.”
“Awesome.” Curtis grinned at himself in the mirror. Fuck, Tessa was going to love them, and they’d look incredible on her. “I’ll be there in about an hour.”
“Perfect, sir. I’ll have them behind the counter for you.”
“Thank you.”
**
Tessa struggled to unlock the front door while balancing the groceries on her hip. She’d gone to the store intending to only buy a few more candy canes to decorate the tree, and some milk and butter to hold them over the store closures of the next two days, and a few sweets to put in Curtis’ stocking. Nothing major. But as always when you combined Tessa and Christmas, things had got a tiny bit… well. Out of control.
She hadn’t meant to buy six chocolate bars, or the tangerines, or the gourmet gingerbread coffee, or another two cakes, or that potted poinsettia. It had all just – happened. Call it an overdose of cheer, and possibly temporary insanity.
Finally, by some Christmas Baby Jesus miracle, she managed to get the door unlocked. She shoved it open with a sigh.
“Well, hey there, darlin’.”
Tessa screamed, jumped, turned to face the owner of the voice. She was shocked to see a huge man standing less than two feet from her. Automatically, she stepped back in to the safety of the apartment, and to her horror, he followed. He was in the doorway now, then he was in the apartment with her. She dropped the bag of groceries on the floor, and tried to run past him, but he blocked her way with two massive arms.
She opened her mouth to scream again. Fast enough to make her head spin, he slammed the door, and pounced on her. His hand was on her mouth, cutting off her air, and she fought hard against the steel in his grasp. It was at that second that she remembered that the neighbors were already gone for the holidays, so nobody was around to hear her scream, anyway.
“You just stay quiet, yeah?” he muttered in her ear. “I ain’t here for you, and I don’t want to hurt you. But I will, if you push me.”
Tessa stared up at the man, feeling weirdly off-balance. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but his stomach and arms were flabby, and his blond hair was full of gray. Despite the fat and the signs of age, his strength was enormous. Something about him was familiar… and that was when she saw it. She froze, too shocked to even struggle anymore.
Curtis’ chin. Curtis’ mouth. Curtis' nose. Oh, fuck. Oh, no.
He smiled at her now, a cold, cruel smile. “I see you know who I am.”
She blinked, tears threatening to rise. Oh, God. The man who had hit and terrorized Curtis for years, the man who had killed Curtis’ mother, was here, in this apartment. He had his hands on her, the same brutal hands that had given Curtis those scars, the hands that had beaten a woman to death in her bed in front of her child.
Fighting to stay calm, Tessa nodded. He looked satisfied, and he gave her a real smile now.
Her stomach clenched when she saw that it made him look more like Curtis.
“Lloyd Manning. Nice to meet you.”
She gulped. Curtis had never told her his father’s name.
“I’m here to see my kid.” He cocked his head at her. “If I take my hand off your mouth, will you be quiet?”
She nodded again.
“Promise me now, darlin’. No screaming.”
She shook her head.
Slowly, Lloyd lifted his hand from her mouth. Tessa gasped for air, but she didn’t scream.
“When will he be back?” he asked.
“Soon,” she said. “Maybe an hour. If you want, I can get him to call –”
“Aw, no. That won’t work, see. I know the boy, and he won’t call me.”
“If I ask him to, maybe –”
“No.” He shrugged. “I’ll just have to stay here, and wait for him. You mind?”
“Mr. Manning. Please…”
“Lloyd, baby.”
Her whole body reacted to Curtis’ father calling her ‘baby’. Nobody had any fucking right to call her that but Curtis. Certainly not a murderer and a monster.
“Lloyd.” She kept her voice even, hoping to reason with an unreasonable, unstable man. “Maybe you can wait out in the hallway?”
“In the hallway?” He stared at her, aghast. “You’re gonna ask me to wait in the hallway? Me, the father of the man you’re fucking?”
She flinched, tried to move away from him. He tightened his grip on her shoulders, though, his fingers biting in to her flesh hard enough that Tessa knew he’d leave bruises.
“No fucking way, bitch.” His tone was calm, kind even. “That ain’t very Christmassy, huh? Not very in the spirit of the season?”
She shook her head, mute with fear.
“So, since you want to be a good girl this year, and have Santa leave you lots of presents, you’re gonna be real sweet to me, yeah? Invite me to sit here, and wait for the kid to come home?”
Secret Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 5) Page 18
