Rival (The Aces Book 1)

by A. J. Macey

  Rival

  Book 1 of The Aces Series

  A.J. Macey

  Blurb:

  Hey b*tches, my name’s Kiera. You might know me as The Cat, famous cat burglar/thief.

  No? Well, let me give you a little insight into my life as of late.

  I was going about, minding my own damn business, when the mob boss who runs most of the Reno underground sent an assassin after me. Crazy, yeah? Anyway, six months later the previously mentioned assassin is now my partner in crime when we get a job from the local motorcycle club, The Aces. All good and dandy, right? Wrong. They’re 1%ers, all three officers unbelievably attractive. Oh, yeah, the vice president of the MC? That’s my asshole stepbrother and let’s not even get started on the club’s suspicious Enforcer or the President who’s dripping in sexual swagger.

  With four sexy as f*ck men at my back, can I get the job done or will our explosive personalities cause us to be at each other’s throats? Oh, damn! Almost forgot in the thought of all the ruggedly attractive men, muscles, and tattoos that the rival MC, The Alloy Kings are moving in and seem intent to take me down with the Aces. F*cking bastards.

  But I’m not the thief who became famous at 15 years old and survived the mob’s hell in my past just to lie down and take that, they won’t know what hit them.

  I’m The Cat, and soon enough, they’ll learn that I’ve got claws.

  Warning:

  The Aces Series is a WhyChoose/Reverse Harem trilogy featuring MFMMM meaning the female main character doesn't have to choose between her love interests. Please note, future books will contain M/M contact.

  This book contains references involving PTSD, sexual assault recollections, abuse, and other themes that some readers may find triggering.

  Contents

  Rival

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Epilogue

  Adversary

  Acknowledgments

  Also by A.J. Macey

  About the Author

  Copyright 2019 by A.J. Macey

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof

  may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover: Jodielocks Designs

  Editing: Ms. Correct-All’s Editing and Proofing Services

  Formatting: Inked Inspiration Author Services

  Dedicated to:

  My daughter, Evelyn Rose.

  Be different. Be unique. Be you.

  Rival

  Book 1 of The Aces Series

  By A.J. Macey

  Prologue

  August 2006

  Kiera

  I stared at my mother's photograph that I had pulled from the hidden spot within my room. I’d found the space a couple of years ago. One of the wooden wall panels in the very corner of my sitting room held a decent sized alcove on the other side. When I finally pried off the wood square in front of it, without damaging it, I started to hide the trinkets and treasures that actually meant something to me inside and out of the reach of anyone's grabby hands or prying eyes. That familiar pang of heartache squeezed my chest in a vise-like grip, anger quickly bubbling up behind it. It had been two years. Two years since my mom died, and it hadn't gotten any easier. But tonight was going to be the start of a new era. Tonight, I was going to take from the cruel hand that ruled our lives—my life—for too long.

  Glancing at the clock, I realized I needed to be ready to be escorted to the party shortly, so I quickly set my mother's photo back in its home within a storybook she used to read to me when I was younger, and replaced the wooden cover on the wall. I took several deep breaths, centering myself as I brushed out any wrinkles in the uncomfortable dress my father's stylist had picked out for me.

  The dress was a red sequin gown, and the halter top and cinched in waist gave me a fake hourglass shape despite my body being as skinny and lean as a stick with no curves to speak of. I mean, I was nine for crying out loud, I didn't need any more attention, but I knew one reason for this party was for my father to show me off to his snobby rich friends who invested in his business. I shoved back the tears that burned my eyes and swallowed the acid that attempted to escape my stomach, and focused. Lifting the flared mermaid-style hem of the dress, I made sure there were no spots or scuffs on my black shiny shoes since my father would freak if there were.

  "Kiera," my bodyguard barked from the door. I stood tall and followed him out of my rooms and down into the party.

  Let the show begin.

  "It was a pleasure to meet you, Kiera," the older gentleman sneered down at me, his jowls wobbling as he talked. I gave him a polite smile instead of throwing something at his face like I wanted to do, and walked away. I spent several minutes wandering through the crowd discreetly checking where people's attentions were focused. My father's action of clinking a knife against his champagne glass made sure everyone was focused on him, not his nine-year-old daughter who was forced to go to these stupid parties.

  When there was no one looking toward me, I moved quickly and silently until I stood near the back of the room as I always did. This time I positioned myself near the case holding a shiny jeweled necklace. The rubies were a deep red contrast to the diamonds and light gold of the metal. The cameras were angled toward the crowd, not the display cases in this gaudy ballroom slash museum, allowing me to make quick work of the lock and pressure sensor before swapping the expensive piece with my freshly made calling card. I couldn't help the smugness that flooded me as I glanced down at the black paw print in the middle of the plain white of the cardstock business card.

  After stashing the necklace in my previously designated hiding spot, I listened to my father's dragging speech about how thankful he was for all his friends. Yeah, right, I scoffed, but kept my face flat. The party and chitchat resumed quickly afterward, though it only took ten minutes before the first murmur of discontent whispered through the crowd. I couldn't stop the tiny curl of my lip or the flare of power that filled my chest.

  I'm The Cat and this is just the beginning.

  Chapter 1

  April 19th

  Friday Morning

  Kiera

  “Fuck!” With quick movements, I rolled out of bed and stepped into the god-awful jeans I’d picked for my cover. My hair was swiftly thrown into what my best bitch coined as my ‘rat’s nest’ bun. I was running late. Again. After pulling a black turtleneck over my head, I swigged some mouthwash while I situated the itchy fabric around my neck.

  I would have been out the door in less than five minutes if the damn door hadn’t been so slow to open. Need to get that fixed. I made a mental note about the door in the fourth bay of the garage as I hopped into the used piece of junk I utilized as my job car. Shooting a text to Abby, I let her know I was on my way. With the windows rolled down, the quickly warming weather of the Nevada desert brushed against my face as I made my way to downtown Reno. The coffee shop’s parking lot was partially filled with others who needed their fix before going on with the monotony of their daily life. I spotted Abby’s dusty truck off to the side of the large lot. Hustling, I ordered a black coffee and went out to the side patio where my best bitch was seated.

  “Hey,” I greeted breathlessly, flopping ungracefully into the warm metal chair. I angled the chair s
lightly so I could keep an eye on Abby as well as discreetly watch the whole reason for being here, Harbold Law Office. The building was a tan, smooth stone with a grey shingled roof. The large windows and front door glimmered in the quickly rising sun. The tint of the glass was nearly black, hiding everything that happened within the building.

  “You’re late,” she chastised, her rough voice low to not catch the attention of those around us. Her blue eyes situated on my face and a dark brown brow lifted in her usual judgmental facial expression. If I didn’t give a shit about her, I’d have smacked that look off her face long ago. “Honestly, I don’t know how you’re able to do your jobs with your shitty time management skills.”

  “Your guess is as good as mine.” I shrugged and took a small sip of my drink pushing past the bitter taste.

  “You do know they make coffee that actually tastes good, right? You don’t have to power through straight black.” Abby nodded her head toward the cup in my hand, her own cup marked with different symbols signifying she had some girly frou-frou drink.

  “I wouldn’t drink it if I didn’t have to,” I muttered, taking another sip. “Besides, I can’t handle all that shit you have loaded up in there. Is it even still coffee or is it just a giant cup of sugar?”

  “Oh, shut up, bitch. If you weren’t so damn stubborn...” she mumbled the rest of her statement incoherently into her coffee cup.

  I chuckled, my gaze following the large man who had just stepped out of his fire red Lamborghini. He even had the balls to park perpendicular to the lines on the asphalt taking up over three slots of his own parking lot.

  “How the fuck does he even fit in that?” I whispered to Abby, who choked on some of her sugar concoction when she tried to laugh at me. “I mean seriously, look at him. He’s bigger than the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.” Cory Harbold’s custom Italian suit strained against his large belly, the man’s meat mitts clutching his briefcase close to his side. Waddling across the pavement of his firm’s parking lot, he finally reached the front door that had been unlocked ten minutes earlier by his front desk secretary.

  “How much longer until your job’s done?” Her rough voice finally evened out after the bout of coughing.

  “Tomorrow night.” I leaned forward on my forearms. “There’s some snazzy party over at the Solace.” My voice wavered at the mere mention of that wretched casino and resort, and I ground my teeth to keep my mouth shut while I centered myself. “How’s Nate?” When in doubt, reroute the conversation.

  “He’s good, they’re coming back from their ride this morning. Going to meet him at the compound.” Her face changed into a dreamy expression at the thought of her husband.

  Gross. I contained the grimace that tried to break through, but barely. A ding from my phone saved me from having to continue talking about the fiasco that was the concept of marriage.

  Dipshit: Got it.

  I tucked my phone back into my pocket, focusing on leisurely drinking the last of my coffee. I made sure to give it five minutes before I would head out with Abby.

  “Ready to go?” My tone remained at a normal volume, my husky voice abnormally cheerful. Nothing to see here folks, just two normal friends getting coffee like normal people. She nodded and rose from her seat. In the twenty minutes we were at the shop, the parking lot had mostly emptied. “You still need to hit up the store?” I asked as I climbed into Rocky, Abby’s red Chevy Colorado truck.

  “Yeah, just need to pick up a few things for the guys.” She started the vehicle and we made our way to the grocery store near the edge of town.

  Neutral colored businesses slowly transitioned into the residential neighborhoods and homes. The store’s exterior matched the continual pattern of greys, beiges, and tans that littered the rest of the streets. We walked the empty aisles grabbing items for Abby’s signature pasta dish before checking out. It was an oddly normal trip compared to what I was used to when I went out.

  The grocery store parking lot was nearly barren in the mid-morning sun. The weather had transitioned from warm to hot, making the stupid outfit I was wearing even more uncomfortable. A tug at the neck of my sweater wasn’t nearly enough to cool me down, so I abandoned that idea and helped load the last of the groceries into the open space of the cab. Taking the cart, I walked over to the return stall.

  I mean, I am an asshole, but I’m not that much of an asshole to leave the cart in the middle of the lot. My name being shouted by a distraught Abby caught my attention. Whipping my head around, I noticed three men attempting to shove Abby into an unlabeled van.

  Oh, hell no.

  Game on, fuckers!

  Sprinting, I tackled Bastard #1, a muscular guy holding on to Abby’s boots. We made contact with the cement, the burning of the rough surface cutting through my shirt barely noticeable due to my pumping adrenaline. Abby had wiggled a thin arm free and had scratched up Bastard #2’s face, blood welling up at the large, red welts. Arms clamped around my chest holding my elbows to my sides as Bastard #3 lifted me off his buddy’s groaning, barely conscious body.

  “We were only tasked with bringing the Aces’ bitch, but a two-for-one deal I’m sure will be appreciated.” Bastard #3’s voice was harsh and taunting as he lifted me further off the ground and toward the van. Kicking back, my geriatric-style tennis shoe made solid contact with his knee. As he screamed I was able to maneuver myself slightly from his ironclad grip, noting the patch on his vest.

  Prospect. Alloy Kings Motorcycle Club.

  Fucking 1%ers. I growled, kicking my heel back and up, hitting him squarely where the sun doesn’t shine. He lurched forward and released me so he could tend to his family jewels. He won’t be having kids for a while. I mentally applauded my efforts at the sound of his cries. I stumbled forward a bit but regained my composure right in time to see Bastard #1 get up and scurry like the bitch he was back into the van. Abby, who was fighting for all she was worth in Bastard #2’s arms, was being hauled over to the open van door. I threw myself at his back and latched on, distracting him enough to let go of Abby. She dropped and rolled out of his way like a pro and soon it was just me and Bastard #2. He attempted to grab me, but his large calloused hands missed as I jumped off. Several well-delivered punches later and Bastard #2 had retreated to their van with Bastard #3 hot on his heels, but before I could grab Abby and leave, Bastard #3 sucker punched me in the side of the head. Stars burst in front of my eyes as the van squealed its tires out of the parking lot.

  “Kiera!” Abby’s voice was the last thing I heard before slipping to the ground.

  Brooks

  “What the fuck do you mean our shipment was taken?” I snapped. My Road Captain, Nate, stood before me, his face taut with irritation.

  “Meaning exactly what I said, Boss.” Nate’s voice trembled harshly as he ground out the statement between clenched teeth. His anger radiating off him in waves as one of his hands curled and uncurled. “Our contact wasn’t at the drop, only this.” He held out the small piece of paper. Snatching it from him, I studied the crumpled page. A crown stared back at me.

  “God fucking damn it!” I kicked out, putting a hole in the plaster of the office. “Fucking Alloy Kings. These fuckers are really starting to piss me off.” Before Nate could respond, his phone rang loudly.

  “Not a good time, babe…” His bearded face paled significantly. “You almost here?” More silence rang out as he waited for an answer. “Good, we’ll meet you out front.”

  “What?” I scoffed. I had more important shit to take care of than whatever his Old Lady needed. Like these fucking bastards who think they can take our damned shipments out from under our nose.

  “Abby and her friend were nearly kidnapped at the store this morning,” he filled me in as we headed toward the front of the main compound building. The bar was empty and clean as Cheryl wiped down the lacquered surface erasing the last bit of evidence of the guys’ party last night.

  “And?” I knew there was more to it than what he had revealed. His l
ip twitched, his large beard shifting with the movement, before continuing.

  “She’ll explain, they’re almost here.”

  “They? We don’t need outsiders here.” Shooting a glare at Nate, I stepped outside into the hot spring weather, the desert dust glaringly bright in the overhead sun. I had to squint until my eyes adjusted from the stark change, the bar seemingly pitch black compared to the sunniness of Nevada’s outdoors.

  “Kiera’s good, Boss. I’ve known her as long as I’ve known Abby.”

  Swallowing my retort I focused on the familiar red truck as Abby pulled up. Her thin face was set in a scowl as she climbed out and headed toward us, her dark brown hair starting to fall out of her ponytail. There was a darkening bruise on her arms and a swatch of blood dried on her fingers.

  “What happened?” Nate immediately questioned his wife who stormed around the front of the truck, her boots pounding loudly against the pavement.

  “Three guys tried to force us into their van.” She pulled open the passenger side door to reveal a thin woman with wavy, dirty blonde hair. Her skin was tanned, but I couldn’t get a good look at her face with the way she was slumped in the chair. “Punched Kiera on their way out.” Nate lifted her out of the seat, his burly muscles able to hold her with ease.