by Diana Gardin
It doesn’t seem to be getting any closer, but it can’t have been more than a few seconds since I started running.
The engine behind me growls as the SUV charges forward, and suddenly the white block letters loom in front of me. I reach out, my hand touching nickel, at the same time a loud burst of what I know to be gunfire rains down around me.
The second I’m through the door I hit the stairs and keep running, my heart leaping into my throat as the heavy door slams shut behind me. I leap down the steps, not knowing if I’m going to be pursued or the goal was to gun me down in an enclosed garage.
Have to get out onto the street before they do.
In uptown traffic, they won’t be able to gun me down and speed away. Not without calling a lot of attention to themselves. The garage was the place they meant to take me down. I can only pray that they had their shot and missed it, and they’ll head out to regroup instead of continuing to come after me.
Bursting out the parking garage access door and into the bright afternoon sunshine, I squint but don’t slow down. I hurry down the half-block to Kevin’s corner and barely glance both ways before bolting into the street. Car horns blast, but I don’t give a shit. I pass Kevin’s building, not knowing whether or not the people who want me dead know about my destination or the fact that my uncle’s bar, The Corner, is just a few buildings down. I run down the block, hooking right and ducking into the alley that will lead back around to rear entrance.
It’s there in the alley that I allow the panic and the fear to register. My body moved on pure instinct when I saw that black SUV, and I hadn’t taken the time to feel the fear. The taste of it in my mouth is bitter and strong, the feel of it settling with heavy persistence on my limbs, almost making them seize. I drag myself down the alley, and when I slip through Kevin’s building’s maintenance entrance, I slam it closed behind me and lean against it.
Just breathing.
Shallow gasps of breath, my blood a crazed river rushing through my veins to the beat of my heart.
“That was too close.” My voice is a mutter under my breath. “Too close.”
When the stuttering in my chest regulates, I walk down a back hallway, my boots clomping on the carpeted floor with each hollow step. I pass through the swinging door into the wide-open lobby area with its glossy finishes and concrete floors. It’s not a huge building, and I cross the lobby in a few strides and press the elevator button. When it opens, I hop on and take the three floors up to Kevin’s unit.
I knock on his door at the same time I pull out my phone and pull up Carson’s name in my contacts.
I rap my knuckles against Kevin’s door, and he opens it a few seconds later. At the same time, my uncle picks up on the second ring. I move into Kevin’s apartment with one glance behind me, slamming the door.
“Carson.” My voice sounds strained even to my own ears. I grit my teeth together in what feels like a gesture hard enough to grind them down. “Someone just shot at me in the parking garage.”
Kevin’s muttered curse draws my glance, and his wide eyes focus on me in disbelief.
“Say what?” Caron’s voice lifts on the other end of the phone “God, Ace! You okay?”
Waving Kevin off, I’m agitated as I step toward the huge window overlooking the busy street below. There’s no sign of anything amiss, no telltale hint of what just happened in that garage.
Now that the raw fear is gone, I’m pissed. Total rage threatens to overcome me, the way it has so many times in the past. My words come fast as I talk to my uncle. I place the call on speaker so Kevin can hear everything.
“What do we know?”
“There’re a couple of regulars at the bar, guys who gamble a lot. Mostly game bets and stuff like that. Asked around in their rings to see if any of the sharks had it out for you. There’s an unspoken rule about owing money in one ring and then going and gambling in another. They both came up clean, Ace.”
I bow my head, pinching my eyes shut and blowing out a long gust of air. “So you’re telling me we got no leads on who came for the Suit that night.”
Carson’s voice is troubled. “No. They’re pretty sure their sharks don’t consider you competition. Just think you’re a kid playing around. Know your clientele is mostly college-aged. They wouldn’t waste their time on you, and none of their clients came to collect at the G-Ring.”
I rake my hands through my hair, looking up at the ductwork with a muttered curse. “I need to find out who the Suit was. Maybe somebody who knows him will know who he bet with.”
“His name was Marcus Wahl.”
I glance at Kevin, stunned. “Why didn’t you lead with that, C? Kevin can work with a name.”
He coughs. “I just found his name out when I got back to the bar after leaving your place. Marcus should have been well-off. Worked in the financial district. But he had a gambling problem. As you probably saw when he came into the Ring.”
Nodding, I rub my chin. “Know anyone who knows him? Or knew him?” A quick flash of the way those men in the Ring shot the Suit down like he was nothing leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
Carson grunts a negative response. “One of my guys knows Marcus is a gambler, but the funny thing is he doesn’t gamble with any of the known sharks. You said he wasn’t a regular of yours, right?”
Confusion covers me in a cloudy fog. “Nah…he just came in a couple of times last week. Could smell the desperation on him...I knew he was in deep somewhere else.”
Carson silent for a moment, and I can almost see him stroking his chin the same way I do when I’m thinking. “That’s strange. No one knows where he placed his bets.”
“What did the car look like?”
At Kevin’s question, I turn toward the living room, and note that he’s pulled out his laptop and is seated on the brown leather sectional with his fingers flying across the keys.
I give him a quick summary of the events that went down. A voice inside my head wonders if they’ll stake the place out, knowing I’ll have to return to get my bike eventually.
Carson reads my mind. “You need to go out, you use my truck. It’s parked on the street in front of the bar.”
I nod. “This has to end, C. I’m not hiding out the rest of my life. At some point, Marcus’ body has to turn up, right? Or someone he knows is gonna come looking for him?”
Carson grunts again. “Exactly. And when they do, we’ll be ready.”
That’s when I remember what I was doing right before I had to run for my life.
Naima.
“Look, Carson… I’ll be fine here at Kevin’s. We’ll try to figure some things out. I’ll let you get back to work, and I’ll come see you at the bar before I go anywhere else.”
There’s frustration in Carson’s voice. “Where else would you need to go?”
I turn back toward the window, suddenly feeling very interested in the city below. “Naima’s out there all alone. I can’t stand not knowing whether she’s okay.”
“You care about her.” There’s realization in Carson’s tone.
I shrug. “Yeah. I mean, it was my fault she was there in the first place. It was me, thinking with my dick. Stupid.”
Carson’s tone softens. “No. It’s more than that. I know you, Ace.”
Caught, I stay silent.
“If you care about her, then you should stay away from her. It’s the best way to protect her right now.”
I sigh. “I get you.”
His tone is skeptical. “But you also have to take care of you, Ace. No stupid moves, man.”
Kevin looks up. “Without a plate on the SUV, I’ve got nothing. But I’m pulling up background info on Marcus Wahl right now.”
I nod as I pull out my phone.
It’s hard to keep my fingers steady as I type out a text to Naima.
You OK? Haven’t seen anything strange, have you?
I pace the Kevin’s open-concept living space as I wait for her to respond. My heart races again like it did in t
he parking garage, but the fear is different. It’s not for myself. It’s for this innocent young woman who got dragged into my mess.
When the phone buzzes, I glance down at the screen.
Nothing weird. What’s up, Ace? Are YOU okay?
I let out the breath I was holding, then return her message.
Don’t worry about me. But I’m your first call if you need anything.
Knowing that she’ll call me if anything goes down on her end is the only thing that can keep me away from her when all I want to do is run to her side.
First things first: I need to find out where Marcus Wahl was making his bets.
Sixteen
NAIMA
On the day that I woke up with Ace in my bed, Bryn picks me up after my afternoon class and takes me to her apartment. It’s where we’ll get ready for an evening hanging out at Jaxon’s fraternity house. This is a normal occurrence for me, considering the fact that Bryn is my best friend and dates Jaxon, and his fraternity mixes with my sorority often. This is one of the few places where my life in Kappa Theta Theta crosses with my life as her best friend.
Bryn’s eyes narrow on me, assessing my traditional clothing. I’m wearing what I typically wear when I’m with my sorority sisters: designer jeans and heels with my letters. It’s not anything I’d choose if I were going out on my own, but it’s acceptable in the world I live in.
“Hey,” she remarks. “If your parents take you to Morocco again for the holidays this year, I want some Moroccan clothing.”
There’s a hint of disappointment in her tone. Bryn’s never hidden her disdain for my “camouflage.” But she can’t understand how hard it is for me to bridge three worlds—the world of my culture, the elite, privileged world I grew up in because of my parents’ money, and the world I long to live in: one of my own making.
A couple of hours later, we’re hanging in the large living room with several of the fraternity brothers and my fellow sorority sisters, plus Bryn.
Leaning back into the leather cushions of a chaise lounge, I fiddle with the playlist blaring from the speakers on the iPod. Most of her cookie-cutter pop doesn’t do it for me, so I add a few songs I can tolerate and set the next song to one with a throbbing punk beat. One that I don’t think will offend the rest of the room too badly, of course. Closing my eyes, I lean back on the lounger and picture Ace’s face in my head.
His earlier text made me feel like there’s something going on with him. Something having to do with what we witnessed the other night. I need to know what it is.
Need to know? Or want to know?
His safety has nothing to do with me. But the tone of his message worried me, and I want to know why. Did he find something out about the people who are after him? Does he know how to stop them? Is he alone and in trouble?
The last thought causes pain to bloom in my chest. I open my eyes and pull out my phone just as the chaise sinks beneath Noah’s added weight.
“Hey, you.” His eyes crinkle at the corner as she smiles. A flash of perfect white teeth disarms my initial surprise at seeing him so close.
He’s definitely a charmer.
“Hi, Noah. Did you have a good day today?” I shift so that he has more room on the chair and his grin grows.
“Pretty good. My political science professor, the one who went to graduate school with my father, is lining up an internship next month at his law firm. I think it has my name written on it.” The pride in his voice mixes with nonchalance, the two emotions warring with each other for the top spot.
I’ve never been able to tell if Noah really loves the law, or if he just majors in it because his dad is a judge and wants the same path followed by his son. He’s at a lot of the same charity dinners as my father and watching him with Noah usually give me hives. He’s an intense guy, and I can only imagine what it’d be like to be his son.
As much as I secretly want my parents around more, I’d never wish for one as overbearing as Noah’s dad.
“You have some decisions to make, right? Which internships are going to help you the most, which law schools are going to be the best fit...” I watch as his expression darkens just a little bit. “And then there’s what you actually want to do.”
Startled, he looks up at me. “What?”
“Well don’t you two look cozy?” Bryn’s sassy drawl interrupts my train of thought as she sinks onto Jaxon’s lap on the couch nearby. “And speaking of cozy…”
Her mouth spreads into a sneaky smile, and I groan on the inside. She glances at Noah before dragging her gaze back to meet mine. “Have you hung out with the bad boy since we last left you with him?”
The set of Noah’s mouth goes rigid and Jaxon rolls his eyes. Leave it to Bryn to bring up the most uncomfortable conversation possible, because in her world, awkward just adds to the fun.
I force a smile and add heaviness to my words. “We don’t have to talk about that right now, Bryn.”
The way I spit her name is her clue, but she doesn’t grab it.
“Oh, come on, Ny. We’re all friends here. And Noah doesn’t mind a little competition, do you, Noah?” She gestures toward Noah, whose upright posture on the chaise tells me exactly how he feels about competition.
But, turning to me, he offers a cocky grin. “Healthy competition is my specialty.”
And don’t we all know how true that is?
I glance between my three friends, the sympathy in Jaxon’s eyes warring with the avid curiosity in Bryn’s. Noah’s are just gleaming with determination. I inhale a sharp intake of breath before letting it out slowly, brushing a chunk of my black hair back over my shoulder.
“Okay. Yeah, I’ve seen Ace since. He came to the house last night and we hung out for a bit.”
Noah’s wheels visibly turn, and I can see him mulling over the question in his mind. Was Ace with me this morning before he came to pick me up?
I stare at Bryn as she opens her mouth to speak again.
“And are we planning on seeing Ace again?” Her question is full of straight-up glee.
“Probably.” I sigh, knowing I can’t force this line of questioning to end any sooner than Bryn wants it to.
She presses her lips together in silent glee.
Noah meets my gaze. “Really, Ny? I don’t want to get into your business, but…remember what I said before. You don’t know him. Be careful.”
I search his clear-blue eyes, wondering if his sincerity is real. It seems to be; there’s nothing there but genuine concern.
Jaxon finally speaks. “Yeah, Ny. He runs that gambling ring, and I asked around about him. He grew up in that trailer park on the other side of uptown. I’ve heard some stuff, about him losing his temper and putting a dude in the hospital, and that wasn’t too long ago. And knowing someone like him, it probably isn’t the first time. Just watch yourself.”
Standing, I search the room. The overwhelming sensation of being a cornered animal is taking over, and I nod at them all before I head for the door.
“Thanks for the concern,” I toss over my shoulder. “Be back in a few.”
“Aw, Ny,” whines Bryn. “We were just—”
But I don’t hear what she was “just” doing because her voice fades as I enter kitchen. I head for the backyard, shutting the patio door behind me and breathing in a sigh of the fall air around me.
Evening has fallen, and the fraternity house backyard looks beautiful and professionally landscaped in the dusky orange light. Perching on the edge of a comfortable chair, I stare out at the thickness of fiery-colored oak trees clustered past the manicured lawn.
Bryn didn’t mean to piss me off, but she did. What was she thinking, bringing up that conversation with Noah and Jaxon sitting there? Jaxon usually keeps his opinions to himself, but apparently he couldn’t help himself today. Apparently, Ace is a polarizing topic for my friends, and I’m already over it.
Beyond over it.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot a quick text to Ace.
W
hat are you doing?
His response takes a few minutes, time I spend staring out into the distance and taking deep breaths to calm my anger.
When my phone buzzes in my hands, I pull up his text.
Chillin in my friend’s condo uptown. You OK?
I consider that question. Am I okay?
I’m hanging out with my friends, who don’t understand my life choices. Not that they ever did, but it feels different now. A few days ago, I had a run-in with honest-to-goodness murderous loan sharks, or at least the loan shark’s henchmen. And the more I’m away from the one person I feel more connected to than anyone ever before, the stronger my pull to him becomes.
I must have paused too long, because my phone vibrates again.
Naima? Talk to me.
Why do just his written words send a pang of longing straight to the heart of me?
I’m getting ready to reply when movement pulls my gaze to the trees beyond the flat grass pasture of the backyard. I take a step in that direction, my eyes crinkling, squinting, to try and decipher what I just saw. My steps falter when my phone is snatched away and a gloved hand claps over my mouth from behind.
The thick arm circling my waist tightens to an almost painful grip. The gasp that wants to leave me gets trapped behind that big hand, and my eyes go wide with shock and horror.
What…Oh, my God!
I struggle, thrashing and twisting in my captor’s arms. But his hold is too strong: I can’t move more than a millimeter in any direction. My brain is mush, unable to remember any basic self-defense methods from the class my sorority took at the campus gym a year ago.
“Don’t. Move.” The quiet whisper in my ear is cold and hard, the coolest edge of a wintry wind.
I shiver, so different from the delicious tremors caused by Ace’s voice. This one is tinged in slithering fear. My breaths are loud as I take in air quickly through my nose. I want to bite his hand, but then he might hit me.
