Saviors: A Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Pawns of Patience Book 4)

by Cassie James

  I’m not ready, not really. I don’t think anyone could ever be truly ready for what we’ve been left to face in this cottage, but I’m as close to being ready as I’ll probably ever be. I’m a Lexington. I was literally born to handle this—which means regardless of how I’m feeling, it’s time for me to do just that.

  “Nothing we find in here changes anything, right?” I look around as each of the guys nods their affirmation. “Then let’s get to work.”

  We break for breakfast when Jake gets back and lunch together as a group after that, but otherwise, we spend a long chunk of the day sorting. It didn’t take long for us to realize that aimlessly picking up folders from every direction wasn’t actually accomplishing much.

  Of course, our method of sorting creates twice as many piles—to the point they start taking over the floor. No one wants to mess up Hollis’ system, which we’ve now basically confirmed is ranked on his perceived severity of what any given person has done. But we manage to break the piles down further, separating out who’s still living and also which names seem most important to us personally. Obviously, we all want to check out the folders of people we know, but everyone manages to refrain for the moment. Probably because we’re all so damn scared of what we’re going to find.

  Dinner time comes and goes before finally my stomach growls loud enough that Smith turns and looks at me from across the room. “You guys, let’s stop and order a pizza or something. We’re just about done in here with sorting. We should eat before we start rifling through these folders again.”

  I mouth a thank you to him. I didn’t want to stop, but I know we need to. My body is sore from hunching over in the floor to pour over labels for hours without a break.

  “I’ll go figure out who we can get to deliver,” Patrick offers. Slowly, everyone starts to rise to their feet. Ace comes over to offer me a hand up, but as I stand, he takes a step back to give me room, knocking over one of the folder stacks in the process. They go sliding in a messy pile across the floor.

  He pulls a sour face. “Sorry, I’ll get them.” He leans down and starts to gather them back up, but his eyes stop on one and he freezes. Oh no. “Why didn’t you tell me I had a folder?” he asks, opening it up without stopping to think about what might be inside.

  “Ace, don’t,” I try to stop him, but it’s too late. Smith is standing right over his shoulder as he opens his folder up to text transcripts from messages Celia sent him—which he never responded to, for the record. She’s in different states of undress and the messages are all clearly meant to be suggestive. I could barely stomach seeing them myself. And I definitely wasn’t intending for Ace to see them until I’d had a chance to talk to him without everyone else around, but I guess now there goes that plan.

  It’s too much to hope for that Smith somehow not see the pictures. “What the fuck, Asher?”

  It doesn’t look good, Celia’s pictures being in Ace’s folder. I know that it means something that this folder was in the stack next to the door—the one I’ve pointedly only been letting myself touch since I’ve found more than one guy’s folder in here. Smith is too busy jumping to get conclusions to consider that, though.

  “Did you fuck my mom, you asshole?” He points angrily at something in one of the photos. “Before her nose job? What the fuck, dude! How long ago was this?” He smacks the folder out of Ace’s hand as Ace just hovers there, still half-kneeling, his face frozen into a look of abject horror.

  No one says anything for a long minute. I don’t know what Ace wants me to do right now. We never exactly talked about a contingency plan in the event that this all came out. This is the absolute worst way for Smith to find out. My head pounds as the air grows thicker with tension by the second. Jax meets my eyes, clear guilt in his expression.

  “I thought we were friends.” Smith’s hands curl into fists as he takes another step toward Ace, who still hasn’t stood up. He’s about thirty bad seconds from laying into Ace, and at this point I can’t imagine Ace would dare fight back—which isn’t fucking fair.

  I step in between them and put my hand on Smith’s chest. “It’s not what you think.”

  He looks at me with disgust all over his face. “You knew?” He brushes my hand off of him. “And you didn’t say anything?” His eyes go from me to Ace. “And you still want him even knowing he fucked my mom? What kind of fucked up situation did you walk us all into, Juliet?”

  Jax, who’d started off silent, yanks Smith back by the neck of his shirt. “I’d be really careful if I were you right now.” He looks at Ace and nods, actually looking surprisingly encouraging. “Tell him.”

  “I can’t,” Ace croaks out as he stands, turns on his heel, and leaves right out the front door.

  I look to Jake, who’s watching all of this with horror in his eyes. “Can you—?” I gesture after Ace, and Jake turns to follow him out. Ace shouldn’t be alone right now, but if we don’t give Smith all the facts, this situation is only going to blow up ten times worse. And I can only be in one place at a time. Hopefully this is the right choice.

  Smith’s look of betrayal is now pointed firmly at Jax. “You knew, too?” he asks in a deadly quiet voice. There’s no warning before he launches himself at Jax, fists flying for one horrifying second before Jax manages to get an arm around Smith’s neck. Smith keeps trying to swing back at him, but Jax tightens his grip until Smith face starts to turn red.

  “You need to calm down, and we’ll explain everything.” That doesn’t do anything to help. “Smith,” Jax snaps. “None of us are the bad guys here. You’re insane if you think Asher Van Doren would willingly hook up with your crazy ass mother of all people.”

  Smith goes limp, much to my surprise. The energy all seems to drain right out of him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your mom took advantage of Ace years ago when he was staying at your house.” His face doesn’t change, not even a flicker of surprise crossing over him. “I only know because he told me after I caught him coming out of your house when you were gone on Spring Break. He went to tell her to back off because even after all that time she was still bothering him. Which, by the way, your mother responded by stabbing him with a letter opener, in case you’re still questioning her role in any of this.”

  “I’m not,” he mutters as he jerks out of Jax’s grip and paces a few steps away, his eyes trained away from both of us. He seems quick to put two-and-two together for himself. “Is this why he stopped hanging out? Stopped wanting to do things with any of us?”

  Jax clears his throat. “Yeah, I don’t think I helped matters either.” Smith shoots him a sharp look but Jax shakes his head and glances away. “I’ll explain later.” I’m not surprised that he doesn’t want to have to rehash what he did in front of me. I should make him, anyway, but the truth is I don’t want to hear it anymore than he wants to say it in front of me. Letting them talk that part out alone is definitely the best option.

  “This is so fucked,” Smith mutters, kicking at the floor like a disturbed child. I know we’ve just majorly overloaded him with a lot of information to process in a very short amount of time. Smith’s actually surprisingly calm now.

  Jax notices, too. “You don’t seem all that surprised.”

  “That Celia would do something so fucked up? No. Not at all. My dad’s been insinuating for years that she cheats, but she just kept getting away with it. He can never seem to prove it. I never would have guessed though that Ace…” He rubs at his eyes. “Fuck, this is fucked up and now he’s probably horrified that I reacted like that.”

  The sudden show of compassion melts my heart. I cross the room and pull Smith into my arms, meeting Jax’s eyes from over his shoulder. Jax gives me an encouraging nod before stepping out, leaving just the two of us alone.

  “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst,” Smith mutters into my hair.

  I run my hand over his back in slow circles. “I think anyone in your position would do the same. You can’t change what yo
u said, but you definitely have to apologize and talk through things with him. You know that, right?”

  “Yeah. I need to do that now, before any of this gets any worse. We’ve had enough issues. Me being mad at Ace for something that obviously isn’t his fault doesn’t need to get added on top of all the other bullshit.” He pulls away from me. “I’ll go take care of it.”

  He leaves me behind to go search out Ace. I stick around, thinking the other guys will come back, but they don’t. I wait for so long that I start to get restless, and as I pace around the cottage, I find my eyes catching on one folder over and over again until I just can’t stand it anymore. I was starting to think I should go seeking everyone else out since they hadn’t come back to me, but now I hesitate.

  Francis Van Doren.

  We all agreed that we wouldn’t dive into any of our folders just yet, afraid that the contents might ruin the whole rest of the trip, but now that I know what’s in Ace’s folder it’s hard not to wonder about the rest of his family secrets. After all, Hollis gave Francis a copy of Moby Dick for a reason, and since Jax got a copy, too, I’m pretty sure it’s safe to assume that it has something to do with Hollis having their secrets.

  Just as I start to reach for Francis’ folder—the door opens and Ace steps inside, his face a mixture of pain and hope. I abandon what I was doing and walk easily into his waiting arms.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I can’t help myself, after Ace holds me for a few minutes, I blurt out what I was about to do before he came back in. “I was going to sneak a peek at your dad’s folder. I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me.”

  He hushes me, telling me it’s okay. “I snuck my own peek earlier,” he admits. “It turns out, his worst sin was faking his father’s will so that his older brother could take over the family business instead of him.”

  I shoot him a questioning look as he sighs and idly runs a hand over my arm.

  “Apparently, my grandfather was bad about playing favorites, and even though my uncle was the one that wanted to run the business, and my dad had no interest, my grandfather still named him as the person to succeed him.”

  I understand now what Francis did. “So your dad spared his brother’s feelings by pretending his dad wanted him to be the one to take over all along?” Ace nods. “I’d hardly call that a sin. It sounds pretty damn selfless to me.”

  “Me too,” Ace agrees.

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t help protect you from what happened, the way you’re always protecting me.” My mouth twists unhappily as I watch his eyes go wary.

  He runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “I want to be more than a glorified emotional-support pet. You know that right? I want to do more than just be a comfort for you when things are bad.” Of course I know that. Before I can answer, he continues, “And right now I’d really like to show you that I can be a lot more than that. I asked the guys to give us some time alone for a while since everyone’s waiting for pizza, anyway.”

  My mouth falls open, making a perfect oh as I stare speechlessly at him. It’s not that I haven’t thought about sex with Ace, it’s just that we never seemed to quite make it all the way for some reason or another.

  Without another word, he leaves me and walks further into the cottage. It only takes me half a second to start following him, stepping into the little guest bedroom just behind him. I can’t help but notice someone’s changed the bedsheets in here at some point since I first saw the room. It makes me wonder if something like this was Ace’s plan all along—maybe just minus all the turmoil ahead of time.

  He walks to the center of the room as I close the door just in case the guys do wander back this way. I cross my arms over my chest, leaning against the closed door as I study Ace’s massive frame. He sits down on the bed, his face heavy with the weight of everything that’s come out today. Seeing him hurting makes me hurt, too, especially when I know he’s trying to cover the pain the best he can.

  All I want to do is help make it better.

  My feet walk to him before my brain catches up to what I’m doing. He reaches out for me the second I’m within reach, his arms circling my waist as he pulls me close, spreading his legs apart enough for me to nestle comfortably between them. Even with him sitting, his head comes up to my shoulder. He leans forward as I automatically lean toward him, putting us at the perfect position for him to nuzzle his face into my neck, breathing deeply enough to ruffle my hair slightly. I fight the urge to squirm—we’ve been killing ourselves all day to get folders sorted with the idea that we can box everything up afterward and take it home with us. Considering there’s definitely no way in hell to get through everything before the break is over.

  After a moment, Ace pulls back and rests his cheek against my chest, eyes closed and brow-line pinched. I run my hands through his hair, massaging and scratching his scalp gently as he breathes deeply. “I’m really fucking lucky to have you, Jules,” he whispers, and my fingers still immediately. I just want to wrap my arms around him and protect him from the ugliness in the world, which is stupid because he’s massive and definitely doesn’t need me to protect him from shit.

  I hum in the back of my throat, not answering, but not not answering either. His eyes pop open, and I smile down at him before dropping my head to kiss his forehead. Ace intercepts my movements, though, tracing his hands up my body until he tugs me closer to him, pressing his lips against mine with a furious type of urgency that I’m not used to from him. We’ve kissed, we’ve made out, he’s pressed me against bookshelves and made my mouth his, but something feels different here, and not necessarily in a good way.

  “Hey, Ace, no—” I start as I wrench my mouth away from his. The hand that’s wrapped around the back of my neck tightens for just a second before falling away. He drops his other hand from the small of my back just as quickly, and I think that maybe he’d push me away from him entirely if it was in his nature. Instead he ducks his head and refuses to look up at me even when I start talking to him again. “I don’t want this if you’re only using me to forget.”

  “Juliet, I can promise you, being with you isn’t about anything other than me and you.” I purse my lips as I stare down at him. The sincerity shining in his eyes stokes a fire within me and I lower my mouth to his again. Ace works his lips over mine fervently, parting my lips with his tongue—there’s still some of that desperation from before, but this time the kiss still feels like him. His hand finds its way to the back of my neck again, and I shiver at the way he pulls me further down, our lips tangling as my legs start to buckle. Ace catches me easily, guiding me to straddle his hips.

  He’s already hard for me as I shift to get comfortable over his lap. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in a situation like this, but as my fingers find their way to the hem of his shirt, I think this is the first time we’re actually going to do this. I pull away from him long enough to pull his shirt over his head, but my eyes get lost on the planes of his abs, and I can’t help but reach out and run my fingers over his smooth skin. Ace’s muscles bunch and twitch under my touch, and he reaches for the hem of my shirt to return the favor.

  As weird as our day’s been, as hard and emotional, all I can think about in this moment is how good and right it feels to be in his arms as he strips me out of my shirt so that the only thing between our upper bodies is my bra in the way. He doesn’t let that problem last for long, stripping my bra away so that my whole upper half is bare to him.

  He looks at me wish such worship in his eyes that I’m suddenly desperate for him to see all of me. I slide out of his lap so that I can stand in front of him and finish stripping myself bare. Ace’s nostrils flare as he pushes himself to his feet. He towers over me for all of one second before he reaches for me again, hoisting me easily against him, my front dragging against his as my legs wrap instinctively around his waist. He wraps an arm under my ass, balancing my trembling body against his as he carries me toward the other side of the small guest room. My back touches th
e cool wall, and I arch away from it, pressing against his chest tightly as he captures my lips in another searing kiss.

  I lose track of time itself as I get lost in him. Every kiss, every stroke of his fingers, every handful of my ass that he grabs torches me, turning me to putty in his arms. I whimper a complaint when he sets me down on my feet for a moment so he can shuck his pants and grab protection out of his wallet.

  He picks me back up using only one hand—an impressive feat all by itself—and then my stomach drops with a twinge of fear as I feel him directly against me for the first time. I peek down between us, getting a look at him that doesn’t make me feel the slightest bit better. I knew he’d be big. Everything else about him is. But I wasn’t ready for this. He’s been hiding a whole goddamn monster in his pants.

  “Just breathe, I’ll go slow, I promise,” Ace reassures me, correctly reading the sudden panic that’s stolen my breath away and made me tense up against him.

  I brace my palms back against the wall and nod as I let my head fall back too, eyes closing as I try to focus on my breathing. There’s a pinch as he slides into me for the first time, my body protesting this foreign intrusion as I adjust to him being so much bigger than I’m used to. He takes him time, though, letting my body relax enough to open for him that after what feels like forever, he’s able to slide all the way inside of me. There’s a fullness to it that while slightly uncomfortable, almost gives me a flutter in my lower belly. I never considered myself much interested in being ripped in half, but I think with Ace, I could maybe suddenly see the merits.

  As if reading my mind again, he tells me, “Slow and easy this time. Otherwise you might not be able to walk straight later.” There’s not a hint of ego in his voice, just a genuine concern that makes me wonder if that’s actually happened to someone because of him before.

  The thought of it makes my whole body convulse. I can’t help but grind against him as I try to get control of myself again, my body seeming perfectly happy to do its own thing without my input at all. I tighten all my muscles, trying to bring myself under control, but the motion has unintended consequences.