Fiasco (Dirty Aces MC Book 6)

by Lane Hart

  “Maybe, maybe not,” I say with a shrug.

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. At least you’re one of the dads trying to take care of their kids. A lot won’t even do that. That boy and girl are lucky to have you as their father.”

  “Hopefully they got their mamas’ brains and not mine.”

  “I don’t know your baby mamas, so I couldn’t say,” Devlin replies. “But I will tell you that if Nash finds out you’re still seeing Joanna, he’s going to be very pissed.”

  “Because he knows I’m not good enough for her.”

  “No, because he never wanted the MC to crash into her life the way it did,” he explains. “She’s not like us. She’s a good woman, with a college degree and a nursing career she had to work really hard for. Nash wouldn’t want anything to interfere with all she’s got going after she was put up for adoption by the same mom and dad that gave him up.”

  “She doesn’t even know he’s her brother,” I point out.

  “No, and he wants to keep it that way, for her sake. The MC has rivals and enemies. It’s one thing to bring a woman into the club we want to marry, one who knows what they’re in for, and we can try to protect them. It’s another to drag an innocent family member in, taking a chance that she could get hurt. For Joanna’s sake, think with your head and not your dick for once since you’re not exactly the type to settle down.”

  “You don’t have anything to worry about. Joanna doesn’t want me like that, no matter how much I wish she did. I won’t touch her.”

  “Good,” Dev says. “Because if you do and I find out, I’ll have no choice but to tell Nash.”

  “I know,” I agree.

  “You really will stay away from her?”

  “I didn’t mean to see her last night, I swear,” I tell him.

  “So, you’ll stay the hell away from now on?” Devlin repeats like he thinks I’m too dumb to have heard him the first time.

  “I’ll stay away from her,” I agree. And then I remember that I still owe her for paying Ace’s vet bills. It’s a little after seven now, which means the vet’s office should be open again.

  I tried calling them several times late last night to check on him, but all I got was the answering service.

  “I need to make a quick call before we get to work,” I tell Dev.

  He arches an eyebrow. “You better not be calling Joanna.”

  “I’m not. I don’t even have her phone number,” I tell him, which is the truth, and it sucks.

  “Fine. Hurry up, though.”

  I walk over to my Thing for a little privacy while I make the call. Thankfully, a woman answers. When I ask for an update on Ace, she tells me he’s sleeping now but should be able to go home later. One of his back legs is broken, but the vet thinks he’ll be able to get around fine with it in a cast until it heals in a few weeks.

  I’m so fucking relieved I didn’t kill it that I could cry, but I don’t since I’m at a job site.

  Chapter Twelve

  Joanna

  On the way to work, I get a call from the vet’s office, the same vet last night I think, telling me that Ace is going to pull through just fine. He’ll have a tiny cast on his back leg, but he is otherwise doing great.

  “You can come pick him up this afternoon. I’ll be back around six-thirty if you want to come then, so I can go over his care.”

  Since I don’t have Phillip’s phone number and the vet’s office didn’t take it down last night, I guess it is on me to pick up Ace.

  “Oh, right. I’ll come pick him up around six-thirty tonight when I get off work,” I agree.

  “I look forward to seeing you then,” he says cheerfully.

  Once we end the call, I try to figure out what I’m going to do with the dog once I have him. Do I take him to Phillip’s? He seemed pretty adamant about adopting him, and it will be a good excuse to see him again tonight, even though he would probably rather see the dog than me.

  “Here he is, almost as good as new,” Dr. Dallas, the vet, jokes when he carries Ace into the exam room and puts him on the table that evening. Ace tries to sit on his back leg and then whimpers when the cast on the right hind leg gets in the way. He flops down on his other side..

  “Aww, poor guy,” I say as I rub his head and then around the white of his chin and neck.

  “I’ll send some pain meds home with him. He can have one in the morning and one at night if he seems uncomfortable.”

  Ace’s tongue swipes out and licks at my finger while his big, brown eyes stare up at me so sweet and innocently, reminding me of someone else I recently took care of while they were injured. After the first taste of my hand, he comes back for more, licking and licking until I pull away.

  “Okay, buddy. I don’t know you well enough for a tongue bath,” I laugh as I rub his ears, keeping out of reach of his now panting tongue.

  “He’s a stray you and your…boyfriend hit last night?”

  I look up at the vet and shake my head. “Yes, he’s a stray, but Phillip is just a friend.”

  “Oh,” Dr. Dallas responds. “Well, he seems to have a good temperament.”

  “Who, Ace or Phillip?” I joke with a smile.

  “Ace,” he answers with a grin. “I’m guessing he’s a boxer mixed with something a little bigger, about six or so months old, which means he’ll need to be neutered soon unless you want him to father litters all over town.”

  “Oh, right,” I agree.

  “We can wait until his leg’s recovered since I don’t think he’ll be wandering too far until he heals. When I see you back to take his cast off, we can set a date.”

  “Sure, that sounds great,” I tell him as I keep scratching Ace’s head. He closes his eyes and looks like he’s smiling with his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth.

  “Then I look forward to seeing you in a few weeks, unless I can convince you to let me take you to dinner this weekend?”

  “Ah, what?” I ask, looking away from the dog’s face to the vet’s. Did he just ask me out?

  “Would you like to have dinner with me? I work the night shift during the week but not on weekends.”

  “Oh,” I reply in surprise. I guess Dr. Dallas liked my satin pajamas more than I expected last night. I’m a hot mess this evening too in my wrinkled scrubs and my hair falling out of my ponytail after my long shift.

  “How about I give you my number? You can think about it and call me if you’re interested?” he asks when I don’t respond with a yes or a no. I think I’m too surprised because there has only been one man on my mind for the past week or so.

  “Sure,” I agree, because it’s the polite thing to say. When Dr. Dallas pulls out a business card from his dress shirt pocket, I look at him from the prospective as a date and not a veterinarian. He’s most likely in his mid to upper thirties with dark brown hair kept short and neat. While he’s nowhere close to Phillip’s towering height, he still has a few inches on me and is lean like a runner or a professional man who works in an office all day and doesn’t have to or want to lift anything heavy. I would even say he’s attractive, but I just don’t see the spark of potential in him as more than a friend.

  Guess I’ve developed a sudden addiction to bad boys.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Joanna

  When I get to Phillip’s apartment building, I realize that I don’t even know which one is his. I put Ace down on the patch of sandy grass over near the entrance with his new red collar and leash on him to see if he needs to go to the bathroom while I try and figure out what to do.

  I can’t go door to door knocking on each one to ask. The vibe I get from this neighborhood is not a good one – like more than one renter could open the door with a gun pointed at me.

  I’m sure someone as big and tough as Phillip wouldn’t worry about the armed neighbors, but I do.

  “Who are you?” a man asks when he comes out of one of the first-floor apartments. There’s a cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth, the re
st of his face wrinkled and grumpy looking with only a light fringe of white hair around his bald head.

  “Hi, I’m Joanna.”

  “I don’t remember you. Who are you living with? I’m supposed to be told when someone new moves in!” he says angrily.

  “Oh, I don’t live here. I’m just visiting someone,” I say with a smile.

  “Who would that be?” he asks.

  “Phillip…” I start and then pause since I don’t know his last name.

  “Phillip? I ain’t got no renters here named Phillip.”

  “What about Fiasco? Do you know him?” I reply since not even his friends in the MC knew his real name.

  The old man blinks at me and then his narrowed eyes become slightly more pleasant. “Yeah, I know Fiasco. He’s a member of the Dirty Aces. The boy doesn’t cause me trouble and pays his rent on time. He’s even helped me run off the assholes who think they can live here for free.” Removing his cigar to blow out the smoke from his mouth, he comes closer and takes in every inch of me from my ponytail to my white shoes. “You don’t look like the usual type of girl he has visiting.”

  Since I’m not sure what he means by that, I don’t respond.

  “Still, no pets allowed, especially loud ass barking dogs.”

  Well, crap. Did Phillip know that? I think he would’ve mentioned it since he was so adamant about taking care of Ace.

  I look down at the dog on the end of the leash lying in the grass, staring up at me, and know that I’m already a goner. I’ll be taking him home with me even though I’m hardly ever there.

  “Can I bring the dog to visit Phillip once in a while?” I ask the man, who I’m guessing is the owner or super.

  “There’s no Phillip who lives here, woman,” he starts and then says, “Oh, you mean Fiasco?”

  “Yes, Fiasco,” I agree even though I hate that everyone calls him the name meant to be an insult.

  “Ah, I guess so, long as you clean up after it,” he agrees.

  “Thank you,” I tell him with a smile.

  “He should be home soon. I could let you in his place so you can wait there in case the rain comes early.”

  “That would be great, thanks,” I say when I pick up Ace in my arms.

  “I’m Ray, Ray Bullins,” he tells me as he shuffles his feet toward the stairs. “I own these apartments.”

  “Nice to meet you, Ray.” I follow behind him slowly up the steps, which is fine since Ace is no lightweight. Thankfully, he stops at the second door on the second floor and doesn’t go up to the third.

  Pulling out a huge keyring that’s attached to his belt, he finds the right one and turns it in the lock. “There you go.”

  “I appreciate your help.”

  “No skin off my back,” he replies with a shrug. “Not like the idiot has anything worth stealing even if you weren’t a nice woman.”

  “He’s not an idiot,” I tell him firmly. “And his name is Phillip, not Fiasco. So, stop calling him that.”

  “Whatever you say, ma’am,” he says with a smile as he backs away and I step into the apartment.

  I’m not sure what I was expecting. From the exterior of the building, I knew these were not brand new, luxury apartments by any stretch of the imagination. But there’s no furniture in the place at all. There’s a mattress on the floor with sheets pulled up over it neatly and a few upside-down cardboard boxes that serve as a table for a lamp and a bigger one as a stand for an old tube television, the kind my parents had but I haven’t seen in fifteen or so years since I bought them a new one for Christmas the first year I had a job.

  In the kitchen is an old cream-colored refrigerator, and I don’t have to open it to guess there’s not much inside. There’s a small stove and microwave, and that’s it. That’s all the contents of the open room.

  Poor Phillip. No wonder he was in such a hurry to get back to work, even though he needed weeks to recover from the bullet wounds. He must barely be able to get by as it is, living paycheck to paycheck.

  I know from experience what it feels like to be poor, and lately I haven’t been able to pay all of my bills on time since I got a divorce and started living on my own. But my situation is nothing compared to this.

  Ace’s panting reminds me that he’s in my arms and getting heavier. I lower him to the worn beige carpeted floor that looks like it was installed twenty or more years ago and then go to the kitchen to find something to put some water in for him. The cabinets are nearly bare, and I know because some are missing doors. But I do find a stack of colorful bowls. The water coming out of the faucet is sort of a reddish-brown color at first, so I let it run until it turns clear, or at least only a little cloudy before I fill up the bowl.

  “Here you go, boy,” I say to Ace as I put the bowl down on the other side of the fridge. When I straighten, a pair of photos taped to the refrigerator catch my eye. One is of a smiling girl who looks maybe three or four. Beside her is a picture of a boy maybe a year or two older. The two have nearly identical blonde curls, along with big brown eyes that are the same color and shape as Phillip’s.

  Are they his son and daughter? No, he would’ve mentioned if he had children, wouldn’t he? Maybe they’re his niece and nephew.

  The apartment door suddenly opens, making me gasp as I spin around toward it. I’m not the only one caught off -guard. In the blink of an eye, Phillip has a gun out and pointed at me.

  “Jesus, Joanna!” he exclaims as he lowers the weapon to his side and closes his eyes like he’s taking a deep, calming breath. When he opens his dark brown eyes again, they look angry instead of startled. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?”

  “I’m sorry we scared you. Ray just let us in to wait,” I say and then squat down next to Ace to rub his head.

  “Fuck!” he says, shoving the gun into the back of his pants, which I guess is where it was before. “I thought Ray was psychic or some shit. He saw me coming in and told me no dogs allowed, and I thought he was just reading my mind. He could’ve mentioned he let you up here!”

  “Sorry,” I say again.

  “How would you feel if someone barged into your place?” he asks.

  “I would be upset too I think,” I respond. “I should’ve waited downstairs, I know. I picked up Ace from the vet and thought you would want to see him. I thought you wanted him. Didn’t you know about the no pet policy?”

  “No,” he answers as he comes over and kneels on the floor on the other side of Ace. As soon as he touches him, his tense shoulders seem to relax and some of the anger eases out of him. He frowns when he sees the cast; but when Ace rolls to his back wanting a belly rub, Phillip smiles down at him. “I’m glad you’re okay, buddy,” he says to him. Then to me, “I’ll pay you back and help find him a home.”

  “Oh, well, I thought I would just keep him,” I respond.

  “You will?” he asks with what sounds like relief. “You don’t have to do this. You’ve already paid a huge vet bill. I can’t ask you to take him in too.”

  “I want to,” I say as I reach over and rub his belly. “He seems sweet.”

  “Yeah, he does,” Phillip agrees with a smile.

  “But I may need your help,” I tell him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I work long hours at the hospital. I get a few days off at a time, but I’ll need someone to let him out when I’m working, take him for walks, make sure he has food and water. I could give you a key to my place.”

  “You want me to go into your house when you’re at work to take care of him?” he asks.

  “If you have time? Or you could come when I’m there just to visit him, anytime you want.”

  “Why would you trust me that much? You have nice things; and as you can see, I’m broke as fuck. I barely have a penny to my name.”

  “If you tell me I can trust you, then I will,” I explain. “Besides, I doubt a lock would keep someone like you and the MC out if you wanted in bad enough.”

  “That’s t
rue enough,” he says with a grin. “I could definitely take care of Ace at lunch and on breaks if a job site is close to your place, but I can’t make any promises. Just, don’t come back here.”

  “Why not?” I ask in a huff. “You don’t want to see me, just Ace?”

  “What? No,” he says in a rush and then clenches his jaw. “I mean, I’m not supposed to see you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to keep seeing you. But my place is a shithole. Why would you want to come back?”

  The fact that he’s admitted that he’s embarrassed about his apartment means a lot. Which is why I tell him, “I was adopted when I was a baby by an older man and woman who were farmers. They were nice to me, but they could barely get by. We didn’t have much and nothing new ever. I think they adopted me so that I could take care of them and help out at the farm, not because they wanted a daughter. It was sometimes lonely without a brother or sister or anyone my age to play with or talk to. Growing up like that made me appreciate everything I have now.”

  “I’m sorry, that sounds a lot like me growing up in a trailer park,” Phillip says. “Too bad your parents didn’t adopt Nash too, then you could’ve had your brother with you and some help on the farm.”

  His eyes widen as soon as the words leave his mouth like he said too much. I replay his last statement and try to figure out what he thinks he shouldn’t have said.

  “Nash was adopted too?” I ask him, and he nods. “But why do you think…why did you say he’s my brother?”

  “Fuck, Nash is going to kill me.” He scrambles to his feet, and I do the same. “Please don’t tell him I told you.”

  “Are you serious? Nash is my brother?” I haven’t seen him in days, but just thinking about the man makes me remember his eyes and hair that are similar to the ones I see in the mirror every day. “Phillip, is he really my brother?” I ask since he hasn’t said anything while I was lost in thought. He’s just pacing back and forth in his nearly empty apartment, running his fingers through his floppy blond hair.