Assuming that Ace had survived it, of course.
King took another deep breath, then he went for it. He made a point of shooting Joker Kane in the chest with nothing but savage glee, paused to make sure the fucker was down – and hopefully dead – and moved. He got to Ace, swallowing bile at the raw, open, oozing mess that had once been Ace’s chest, and his right arm. Neither of these things had any skin left on them, and King thought that that was bad enough… but when King lifted Ace’s head to look at his face, it actually got worse.
“Ace,” King whispered, totally unaware of what was happening around him now. Dimly, he heard Quinn and Valentina shouting, heard Scars responding, but he was far removed from any of all of it. All King saw, heard, felt, knew, was Ace Cuddy. “Can you hear me?”
Unbelievably, the bloody, shattered wreck in front of him grunted: “Yeah.”
“Holy fuck.” King was floored. “Ace… hang on, alright? I’ve got you. Help is coming.”
Ace’s remaining eye opened no more than a slit. “Liam?”
“He’s OK, man.”
“…OK?”
“He’s totally, totally fine, I promise you.” King had to touch Ace now, had to offer the other man some basic warm, physical comfort, but he didn’t see a single damn place that looked safe to put even so much as a fingertip on. He finally rested his massive open palm on the back of Ace’s neck, so gently, so carefully, like King imagined that he’d one day cradle his newborn son or daughter’s head. “He’s waiting for you.”
Ace actually smiled, and it was obvious to King that he’d been holding on just to hear those words. Now that he had, he was going to let go.
So he did let go; he let go hard. Ace fell into the deep, black pit of oblivion… and at that second, King was sure – absolutely, totally sure – that he wasn’t ever coming out again.
And considering everything, maybe that was the kindest, best thing.
Sometimes, death was a loving, tender mercy.
Chapter Fifteen
The first thing that Ace felt was softness, all around him. It was like he was enveloped in a cloud. Or maybe a shroud.
He gave a groan, just to make sure that he wasn’t actually dead, and that was when he knew that he had to have succumbed to his injuries and shuffled on off the mortal coil, because he heard the voice of the only person who’d ever made him believe in anything.
“Ace?”
In Ace’s heaven, Liam was his personal angel… and it was Liam’s voice that was right there, right next to him:
“Babe? Babe, wake up. Come on… please.”
Ace groaned again, with a bit more gusto, but that was only because the pain was starting to move up his whole body. It felt like he was being set on fire, and being crushed by a bulldozer, and being stabbed from the inside by a million tiny blades, all at once.
Yeah, he’d definitely felt better than he did right this second.
“Ace?”
It took a lot for Ace to force open his eyes – wait… eyes? No. Oh, Christ, no. Eye. As in singular – and look up. He blinked, raised his hand to his face. Liam grabbed his trembling hand, pulled it away and held it tight, but not before Ace had felt the gauze covering his left eye.
No. Where his left eye used to be.
“Babe?” Liam’s voice was shaky. “Can you hear me?”
“Aaarrgghhoooooouuutttffaaaa,” Ace managed, which was utter gibberish, of course, but Liam seemed pretty happy to hear it. Or at least, Ace hoped those were tears of joy.
“Cry?” Ace rasped, trying to touch Liam’s face with his free hand. That was when he noticed the thick bandages swathing the whole length of his right arm, and he once again felt the razors delicately slicing off his skin. “Sad?”
“No, you idiot,” Liam snuffled. “I’m not sad, I’m fucking happy. Now shut up and go back to sleep. You have lots of healing to do.”
Too exhausted and hurting to protest, Ace shut his eyes – eye – again, and let the blackness take it all away.
Plenty of time to remember later. Plenty of time to revisit the horror.
Years, actually. Decades.
A lifetime.
**
The next time that Ace resurfaced from the sweet, sweet darkness, it was to more darkness. He lay very still, squinting and trying to get some sense of his bearings.
He was in a hospital, clearly and obviously, and he seemed to be in a single private room. There were soothing watercolor sunsets and mountain vistas hanging from the walls, there was a sofa that looked pretty damn comfy to sink in to, and an IV was beeping softly with every drip drip drip of some clear fluid into his veins. Ace focused on the needle inserted in the top of his left hand for a second, wondering about the drugs. The job of ‘MC President’ had never come with perks like private healthcare, so idly, he found himself wondering who was springing for all of this, and then his gaze fell on the man sleeping in the chair next to his bed.
Liam.
Knowing better than to try to sit up, Ace stayed still and quiet, and just looked at Liam, just drank him in like a parched man downing water after crawling through the flames of hell.
His long, lean legs were stretched out in front of him, clad in black jeans. His arms were crossed over his chest, which rose and fell steadily as he slept, and he was wearing a loose black t-shirt. His hair was messy and tousled, his sharp cheekbones were dark with stubble, his mouth was soft and untroubled in slumber – but the area under his eyes was purple and puffy. Ace knew that Liam hadn’t been doing much sleeping, but he had been doing plenty of crying.
Unable to wait even one second longer to see those beautiful brown eyes, Ace cleared his throat.
“Sweetheart?”
Liam stirred, sighed.
“Liam?”
At that, Liam’s eyes shot open and he jumped up, almost at the exact same time. When he saw Ace looking at him, he froze for a split second, then he threw himself to his knees beside the bed.
“God,” he breathed. “Ace… oh, God, babe…”
“Hey.” Ace tried to smile, but his whole face hurt. “Hi.”
“How – oh, God. I don’t believe it, I still don’t believe any of it. How do you feel?”
“Not awesome, I have to say.” Ace stretched a tiny bit, winced as everything pulled and burned. “How are you?”
“Me?” Liam was incredulous almost to the point of being offended at the question. “Me? Seriously?”
“Yeah, seriously. You look like hell, baby.”
Liam blinked in stunned disbelief. “I look like hell?”
“Yeah.”
Liam stared at him some more, then suddenly, he burst into laughter. It was hysterical laughter, laughter close to the cliff-edge of tears, but Ace quirked his own lips up in a half-smile, just happy to be there and in one piece.
Well. Kind of in one piece. In one piece, but with pieces missing.
“OK,” Ace said as Liam calmed. “Tell me.”
“Let me get the doctor –”
“No. That can wait… tell me what’s happened while I’ve been out. How long have I been out, by the way?”
“Six days, off and on.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. So… which part do you need to hear?” Liam asked, gingerly taking Ace’s hand with the IV tube. “What first?”
“Tex? Honey? Jack?”
“Honey and Jack are home recovering. They’re both going to be fine.” Liam paused. “But Tex… well. He’s going to need extensive reconstructive surgery. The bullet shattered his face, babe, just wrecked the whole right side.”
“Shit,” Ace muttered. “He’s lucky to be alive.”
“Agreed.” Liam stroked Ace’s unbandaged cheek so, so carefully, avoiding the bruising as best he could. “And he’s not the only one.”
“OK.” Ace s
ucked in a deep breath. “Now me. How bad is it?”
“It’s – well. Some of it’s really bad. But you must know that, right?”
Ace thought about the beatings that had gone on for hours; the crunch of lower leg bone; the knife carving out his left eye; the razors cutting the skin off his chest. Joker had insisted on removing his Fallen Angels tattoo personally, claiming that a cock-sucking traitor had no right to have it on his body any longer, and Ace still wasn’t sure if Joker had been more outraged by his disloyalty to the club, or his homosexuality.
Despite all the pain and damage, though, the thing that had devastated Ace was when Nails had sliced off the tattoo that Ace had had done for Liam, just sliced it off his right arm in long, thin strips which had then been held in front of his face to taunt him. That had been when Ace had almost abandoned any desire to hang on for King to come and get him somehow, by some miracle; that had been when he’d despaired and lost faith and wanted to just fucking die.
In that moment, he’d come close to begging for the kindness of death. Damn close. But his belief in King had proven stronger than his own weakness, and he’d just held on a bit longer.
And thank fuck he had. Because now here he was, holding the hand of the man that he loved, though not for much longer.
Ace was damaged. Lacking things, missing things. Permanently scarred. Angry and frustrated at his own powerlessness. Looking at months of recovery, at years of dark thoughts, at a lifetime of ‘maybe if’s’.
Ace wasn’t going to ask Liam to stand next to him through all of what was coming. He sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Liam to look at the ugly, awful body hidden under these bandages and skin grafts, and demand that Liam touch it, kiss it, love it.
Ace was selfish enough to want Liam here, just a bit longer… but he loved Liam enough to not even ask that much. It was time to let him go.
“I know it’s bad, sweetheart,” Ace said quietly. “I was conscious through quite a bit of it. I know what they did to me.”
Liam blanched. “God… I’d hoped so hard that you’d been out for most of the time.”
“I wish.”
“Oh.” Liam gazed at Ace, horrified and enraged all over again. “I’m so sorry.”
“No need to be.” Ace forced a smile. “The MC?”
Liam’s face hardened. “Fucking ripped to shreds. Nails and Joker are dead, most of the Fallen Angels are dead. The rest have been rounded up and are sitting in jail. A couple are on the run, but King’s Men and the cops are looking for them, and if King is the one to catch up with them, then I don’t like their chances. The Men are on a mission, and they aren’t being distracted by anything.”
“Jensen’s people?”
“Every one of Jensen’s guys in that warehouse is dead.”
“Seriously?” That was a surprise. “That’s incredible.”
“Yeah, well, King and his people went in shooting, and anyone who so much as raised a finger – let alone a weapon – was taken down. Jensen’s idiots all opened fire, but some of the MC members saw the situation for what it was, and they backed down. That’s why some of them are still alive, and nobody else. Though I get the feeling that even if Nails or Joker had laid down their weapons, someone may well have taken the shot anyway, just out of principle and to rid the world of their odious souls.”
“Right.” Ace rubbed his eye, feeling suddenly exhausted, feeling a drop in his pain tolerance. “I get it.”
“So it’s done, Ace. The Fallen Angels are done. It’s all done.”
“No.” Ace shook his head tiredly. Yeah, he was going to need some more painkillers soon, but he was going to hang on a bit longer. He had to have this conversation with a clear head. “It’s not done. It’s never done. Not when we’re talking about fuckers like this, baby. Plea bargains will be struck for the guys being held. The guys on the run and in the wind will regroup at a pre-determined meeting point. Guys will show up out of the blue, looking to patch in, and if they’re hardcore enough, they’ll be accepted and welcomed. The MC will rebuild, Liam. It won’t look the way that it did, not even close, but the guys will start again.” Ace considered. “Almost definitely not in Denver – way too much heat here now, and not nearly enough friends – but they’ll start again somewhere. Maybe in Vegas, close to what’s left of Jensen’s crew.”
“But they’ll leave you alone?”
“Never.” Ace’s tone was resigned. “That’s why, as soon as I can walk, I’m leaving. I’m changing my name, I’m going off the grid, I’m looking for the quietest, safest, most fucking boring place on earth, and I’m gonna live out the rest of my life there, avoiding trouble.”
“Sounds good,” Liam said. “I’m coming with you.”
“Hey, no.” Ace was totally alarmed, and knew that he needed to shut this down here and now, and pretty decisively. “No, sweetheart –”
“Don’t you fucking ‘no, sweetheart’, me, Ace Cuddy. Let’s get this straight: I’m not asking you. I’m telling you. I. Am. Coming. With you.”
“But –”
“Shove your ‘but’ up your butt,” Liam snapped. “This is happening.”
“But –”
“What did I just say?”
“No, baby… let me say this one thing.”
“Fine.” Liam’s expression and tone were both closed as tight as a bank vault. “It won’t change anything, but go on.”
“But I’m not the man that I once was, Liam,” Ace said, gesturing at his missing eye, his chest, his arm. “Not even close. I – I don’t know who I am anymore, where I fit in this world anymore, and asking you to come with me now is like asking you to leave with a stranger, and worse, one with zero idea where his place is. I can’t do that, baby. I won’t.”
“You done?” Liam asked him. “That’s it?”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“OK. Two words for you, Ace: You. Are.”
Ace paused. “I am what?”
“You are the man that you once were. At least, you’re some parts of him. The best parts, I’d say.”
Ace’s throat tightened. “Liam –”
“No. Shut up, and I mean for real. You did all the damn talking out at the safe house, and I barely got to say anything, even though I thought I’d never see you again, so now it’s my turn. You hear me? You shut your face and you let me talk.”
“Uh.” Ace stared at Liam’s fierce expression, and suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or snap a salute. “OK. The floor is yours.”
“You are the man that you were before this whole fucking nightmare, Ace. Before this happened, you were the man who stepped between me and danger over and over again – and you did that again six days ago. You were the man who broke his own damn heart to keep me safe, and to protect me from hurt – and you just did that again now. You were the man who saw me scared and vulnerable, and who had enough strength for the both of us – and God knows your strength was in awe-inspiring form when you were standing there facing down your ex-brothers, unarmed and alone, and I was scared and useless. You were the man that I fell in love with ten years ago – and you’re still the man that I love. The only man that I love, and the only man for me.”
“Liam…” Ace whispered, moved beyond anything he ever knew possible. “I –”
“I denied it, but I’ve been waiting for you for seven years,” Liam said. “Waiting for you to come to your senses, waiting for you to come back to me. And now you’re finally here, I’ve finally got you back again, and if you think that I’m letting you go, that I’m losing you one more time, then you are out of your goddamn mind.” He shook his head. “I lost you once, and six nights ago, I almost lost you once more, and it’s never happening again. You hear me? Never. We’re going to figure this out. We’re going to make this work. No discussion, no negotiation, no fucking ‘maybe’ or ‘one day’. We are doing this, Ace, you and me,
and that’s the end.”
In the silence following Liam’s words, Ace heard nothing but his own heartbeat. He stared at the ceiling, felt the burn of tears in his remaining eye, and he wondered just what miraculous, magical thing he could possibly have ever done in his life to deserve the man kneeling next to him.
“Erm.” Ace cleared his throat, then asked the only question that he could see as the obstacle to this insane proposal. “What about your café?”
“I’m giving Mirrie a controlling interest in it, and handing it over to her to run,” Liam said promptly. “I’ll still be on the papers, and will get an automatic thirty percent of any profits, but to all intents and purposes, it’s Mirrie’s now.”
“You what?” Ace was aghast. “You’re just… just handing it over? Not asking her to buy you out?”
“Nope.” Liam smiled. “It’s a wedding gift, you see. Mac and Mirrie just got engaged yesterday.”
“They did?” Ace was delighted, which was the normal response to this kind of news, of course – except for the small fact that Ace and the Fallen Angels had once gone way out of their way to keep Mac and Mirrie from each other. He felt nothing but fierce joy that these two had overcome all the bullshit, and found their ways back to each other again. “That’s great. No, that’s amazing.”
And really, if Mac and Mirrie could find ways to make it work despite the danger being held over their heads, and had the courage to make a go of things, then why couldn’t he?
Well… why can’t I?
Ace had no way of knowing what was coming; he couldn’t predict the future. He didn’t know where he was going to be in six months; he didn’t know how many years he had on the earth. He did know that for whatever time he had, wherever he spent it, there was only one person that he wanted to be with.
And that person was here now. Here with him.
For now, Ace could be grateful for that much. It was where they were in this moment, it was a starting point, it was the beginning of something new for him and Liam. Something that – for the very first time – they were free to choose.
Extreme Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 7) Page 18
