Extreme Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 7) (6 page)

Things had changed for good and for real when Spider had woken up one morning to find himself all wrapped up in Ace’s arms, Ace stroking his hair and cheek. The tender look on that hard face would have taken Spider’s knees out from under him if he’d been standing, and he’d actually felt tears prickle behind his eyelids.

“Hey,” Spider had whispered. “You OK?”

“Yeah,” Ace had whispered back. “I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?”

“That you’re the first person I’ve ever really cared about.”

Surprised, moved, touched, maybe a bit afraid, Spider had propped himself up on one elbow. “Your family?”

Ace had been silent for a minute. “I imagine that I cared about my Mom, but I don’t remember her. She died when I was two.” He ran his rough fingertips over Spider’s full lips. “But I care about you, and no bullshit. You’re – you’re important to me, in a way that I didn’t know another person could be.”

They had stared at each other, acknowledging the depth of feeling between them for the very first time. What had started as a crazy risk, a wild need, a celebration of freedom, had changed and they both knew it. The earth has just shifted underneath them, and suddenly, they were in uncharted territory – but at least they were in it together.

“This is dangerous, Ace,” Spider had said quietly. “This can get us both killed.”

“I know.” Ace’s black eyes had been as gentle as they ever got. “But we’ll be careful and nobody will ever know. I’ll never let you get hurt, sweetheart, and that’s a promise. I’ll take care of you.”

And Ace had kept that promise for the next two years: he
had
taken care of Spider. And then the Fallen Angels President at the time, Butcher Peterson, had gotten himself shot and killed, and Trigger MacGee had stepped up and into position – and had tapped Ace to be his VP.

And that was the beginning of the end. That was when Ace stood there in that hotel room and packed his bag and chose the MC over Spider. Over his love for Spider; over Spider’s love for him.

That was the day that a piece of Spider’s heart had broken off and shriveled up and blown away, and it just hadn’t come back. It probably never
would
come back, he thought.

And as it turns out, he’d been right about that, because here and now, in this kitchen with a hulking Texan bodyguard, and the love of his life sleeping upstairs and down the hall from his own cold and empty bed, Spider was
still
heartbroken. Still hurt, still confused about Ace’s choice.

And really, look what it had all come to in the end, right? Ace had left the Fallen Angels anyway, he’d left in a blaze of destruction and betrayal anyway. He was running and hiding for his life anyway, Spider was in danger anyway.

It had taken seven years to get here, but they’d ended up here anyway.

Goddammit
.

“Spider? Hey, Spider?”

Startled out of his thoughts, Spider looked across the island at Tex, suddenly just wanting to be alone. “Hmmmmm?”

“You OK?”

“Oh, sure.” He pulled himself together, took a bite of omelet. He didn’t want to talk anymore, though just ten minutes ago he’d needed to. “Where was I?”

“You said that you and Ace got together that weekend up at the MC camp.”

“Right.” Spider made sure to keep his tone brisk and impersonal. “We did. We were a secret thing for about three years after that, off and on.”

“Three years?” Tex gasped. “How the hell did you manage
that
?”

“Ace is a very good liar,” Spider said coldly. “And I have a thing for bad boys.” He shrugged, sipped his lukewarm coffee. “It was really just a casual fling that dragged on way too long. It was fun, most of the time, but we didn’t get serious or anything. We’d go weeks without seeing each other, ‘cause he’d be on some MC business out of state, or in lockdown, or whatever.” Spider forced down the terror that was rising in his throat at those memories;
God
, he’d been so, so terrified every time that Ace had left his bed, sure that he’d never see him again. “So really, it was pretty random.”

“So… that’s all it was, huh?” Tex didn’t believe it, of course, not after what Spider had said about feeling like Ace was his home, but hey… he wasn’t in any position to judge people’s love lives. “A drawn-out fling?”

“Yep. It was never going to be anything else, was it? Ace being Ace, no way he was going to choose me over his brothers.”

“I suppose not,” Tex said carefully, not even slightly fooled. So
that
was the heart of the matter, was it? Spider had wanted Ace to leave the MC, and Ace had refused? Yeah, Tex could see how a man could be bitter over that – especially since said man was now hiding out in a safe house because his dipshit ex hadn’t bothered to delete a bunch of pictures. “Guys like Ace think of the MC as a family. That’s tough to walk away from.”

“I suppose so.” Feeling pretty desperate for escape now, Spider got to his feet and picked up his half-eaten breakfast. “I’m going to finish this upstairs, if that’s OK with you.”

“Sure it is.” Tex paused. “You alright?”

“Uh-huh.” Spider pivoted sharply. “Just awesome.”

“Spider?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry, man.”

“For what?”

Tex fiddled with his fork, wondering how far to take this, wondering why he was feeling semi-bad for Ace Goddamn Cuddy. “I’m not totally sure, to be honest. I guess – for it all.”

Spider cocked his dark head. “Not too much to be sorry about then, is there?”

He turned and headed upstairs. It wasn’t until he was alone and the door was closed that he allowed his grief and loss and pain to resurface… yet again.

I want to kill him.

I want him back.

I hate him.

I love him.

No. I hate him.

No. No.

I love him.

Fuck.

**

Ace lay on his bed in a patch of weak winter sunlight, his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling. He’d managed to sneak back upstairs before Liam had come up, and now Liam’s words were ringing in his ears over and over again.

Ace is a very good liar.

It was really just a casual fling that dragged on way too long.

Not too much to be sorry about then, is there?

None of it was true, of course, and it had all been said for Tex’s benefit and for Liam’s self-protection. Ace knew that. He’d never forgotten the agony in Liam’s voice when he’d begged Ace to leave Denver with him. And that look on his face, when Ace had told him that he was dead to him… well. It was the face of a man wrecked with hurt and pain. Ace had put that look there – and he’d done it on purpose.

Sure, he’d done it to protect Liam, but somehow, that excuse had never flown with Ace, not in his most secret heart. Over the past seven years, Ace had spent many, many nights staring at ceilings, thinking about Liam, and asking if he’d
really
walked out that door to protect Liam… or had he done it to protect himself?

The hard, awful, ugly, unvarnished, devastating truth was this: Ace had left the man that he loved because he’d been too fucking cowardly to stay.

That
was the truth. Ace knew it, and Liam had always known it.

The question that Ace was now grappling with was: how the actual fuck was he to gain Liam’s forgiveness for that stupid, tragic, selfish mistake? How was he to ask for a chance to make it right, for a second chance with Liam? Hell, their lives were blank slates now, weren’t they, and they were both outed to the Fallen Angels. Ace was going to have to leave Colorado for sure, and the country almost definitely. He didn’t want to go alone… he wanted Liam with him when he started again, the right way this time. He wanted to ask Liam to run with him now, the way that Liam had wanted it all those years ago… but how the hell to ask Liam to do that?

“Only one way, idiot,” he said aloud. “You go and ask for it. You ask for all of it.”

He couldn’t, though. Not yet. Not just out of the blue, and not when Liam was still angry and reeling from the shock of being pulled out of his settled, safe life. No, this was a situation that required compassion and patience, and though those weren’t words that any sane human being would
ever
associate with Ace Cuddy, he knew different. He knew that where Liam was concerned, Ace’s compassion was as deep as the deepest part of the ocean, and his patience went beyond the broadest expanse of sky.

Where Liam was concerned, Ace was the best man that it was possible for him to be.

Now he just had to prove it to Liam. And that was going to take time.

Thankfully, they had nothing
but
time here in this lonely farmhouse.

So, Ace lay on his bed in a patch of weak winter sunlight, his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling… planning how to win back the only person that he’d ever really, truly loved.

Chapter Five

Telling the ladies that they had to go into protected hiding for an unspecified amount of time had gone about as well as could be expected – which was to say that it
hadn’t
gone well. At all.

Well-intended, though severely-misguided, jokes about a ‘girls’ slumber party’ had been met with the appropriate levels of scorn and derision, and precisely the correct amount of eye-rolling and huffing. Sarah, Naomi, Gabi, Mirrie, and Maria had all fought it – and they’d fought hard. No way they were leaving their homes, jobs, men – their entire lives – because there was a
chance
that they
might
get hurt.

But the guys had been relentless and they’d pushed the point the entire night after their group huddle at Curves, and when logic and rational argument hadn’t worked, they’d resorted to begging. Not literally on their knees, but metaphorically, and in a few cases, they
had
damn near fallen to the floor on their knees. They’d
begged
the women to please do this… they’d
begged
them to listen to what was being said.

It was only when the women had seen how genuinely worried the men were – how legitimately afraid and frantic they were – that they had finally agreed. They hadn’t been thrilled, naturally, and they’d muttered darkly about King’s Men getting on top of this damn mess and making it right double-time – but in the end and at long last, they had capitulated.

Sadly, Jax, King, and Aidan had been so relieved at winning the battle, that they had almost lost the war and completely undone all their good work by being stupid in that way that men sometimes are.

“Just think!” Jax had exclaimed to Sarah. “You and Gabi and Naomi will be able to plan your weddings full-time. You can exchange ideas, share magazines and look at online stuff together… it’ll be great, baby!”

Aidan and King had obliviously uttered similar phrases reflecting the exact same sentiment – and to a woman, Sarah, Gabi, and Naomi had responded in exactly the same way: by shooting the men that they loved looks that would have melted steel beams.

And to a man, Jax, Aidan, and King had taken one look at their future wives and slammed their big, fat mouths
shut
. Good and tight.

**

“So that’s everything,” Valentina Mirova said to the women as they re-entered the living room. “That’s the whole house and all the security things you need to know about.” She lifted one perfectly-arched eyebrow over one perfect Slavic cheekbone and narrowed her perfect dusky purple eyes as she regarded the ladies and smiled with her perfectly-shaped mouth. “Questions?”

“How many of you will be staying here with us?” Naomi asked Val, trying hard not to hate her
too
much for having legs that went up to the goddamn
ceiling
– even without those outrageously gorgeous high-heeled boots she was wearing. “I mean, at any given time?”

“Four are always here, with some people coming and going,” Val said, her words still carrying musical traces of her upbringing in Russia. “Tonight, it’s me, Tank –” she gestured at a man who was, roughly, the size of a tank. The human tank nodded; the women nodded back. “– Dillon, and Dallas.”

Sarah, Mirrie, Naomi, Gabi and Maria all smiled at the last two men more readily than Val or Tank. They knew Dillon well, of course, because he was Maria’s boyfriend, and although they’d never met Dallas Foreman in the delectable flesh before, they had heard about him from the guys. King especially had talked to Naomi about him, since King and Dallas had teamed up and joined forces on more than one occasion.

“Ladies,” Dallas said now in a deep Texan drawl that seemed designed to just stop the female heart. “It’s a pleasure.”

“No kidding, it’s a pleasure,” Gabi said, taking in his height and width. “You gonna be guarding my bedroom door?”

Dallas laughed, dark blue eyes flashing. “As you wish, ma’am.”

“Gabi,” Sarah reproved. “Don’t harass the hot bodyguard.”

“Can’t help it,” Gabi protested. “My own hot Texan is at Curves tending bar tonight, and who knows when I’ll see Aidan again?” She grinned at Dallas and he grinned back, more than game for some teasing in what was a pretty crap situation for these women. “You mind being my hot Texan substitute?”

“No problem,” Dallas said cheerfully. “I’m just here to help any way that I can, ma’am.”

“Your wife won’t mind?” Gabi asked.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll understand. Olivia’s pretty cool.”

“
Anyway
,” Val interrupted, clearly done with the jocularity. “Any
other
questions? Maybe ones
not
to do with the hotness of the people protecting your lives?”

The women were silent, shaking their heads.

“OK, then.” Val glanced at her watch. “So the four of us will be guarding every floor, and one of us will always be on the front door. We work in shifts, so we move around the space constantly on a grid and schedule. The next shift arrives in the morning at 8 a.m. sharp, and they’ll pick up our positions then. What we need you to do is this, and it’s important:
never
enter a room without announcing yourselves, alright? We’ll probably see you before you see us, but our backs may be turned, or we may be distracted. Make sure we know you’re there, OK?”

“Because you might take us down?” Mirrie said jokingly. “With extreme prejudice?”

“Yes.” Val’s answer was flat and clipped. “We might, and if we do that, you might get hurt. We don’t want that, none of us. So you do your part to make sure it doesn’t happen. Yes?”

“Yes,” Mirrie whispered. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Val said coolly. “But this is a serious matter, ladies, so I do hope you can take it seriously.”

Confronted by a stern Russian kick-ass bodyguard who could easily pass as a supermodel, the ladies were appropriately abashed. Again, they all nodded, and Val studied them closely. She didn’t smile – she hadn’t smiled yet, and Sarah for one had started to wonder if the woman even knew
how
– but Val did seem to thaw a bit. Maybe.

“OK, then,” Val said. “You’re free to do as you please, and we need to get to work.”

As one, Tank, Valentine, Dillon, and Dallas left the living room. The women heard faint voices in the kitchen next door, and they gazed at each other, a bit taken aback.

“Uh,” Maria said, speaking for the first time. “Maybe you guys want to… have some coffee?” She nodded at the loaded tray on the low table. “Looks like someone made tea and coffee, and brought us some pastries.”

“Damn right I want a coffee,” Sarah said, plunking herself down on the sofa and reaching for a chocolate-chip cookie. To hell with her already-generous ass and thighs, and besides, Jax loved ravishing her curves. “And I wouldn’t object to a shot of Bailey’s in mine.”

“No alcohol!” Val called from the kitchen, making the women jump. “Non-negotiable!”

“Jesus,” Mirrie murmured. “Does the woman have bat hearing, or what?”

“We all do!” Dillon was the one shouting now. “Careful what you say, ladies!”

With huge eyes, they all silently stared at Maria, who shrugged and grinned.

“Yeah,” she said casually. “The man hears a kleenex drop on the floor six rooms away. He’s
hell
to live with sometimes.”

“Love you too, babe!” Dillon called back. “Now enjoy that brownie!”

Maria stared down at the brownie in her hand, stunned, and for no reason that made any earthly sense, she quickly hid it behind her back.
That
broke the tension at last, and all the women laughed and settled down on the sofas and chairs. Coffee and tea were poured, milk and sugar were added, various pastries and sweet things were selected. And they started to talk, not at all concerned about the badass squad in the kitchen hearing them. They knew that they had to get used to being watched like hawks, their every word overheard, their every move noticed and catalogued, and they might as well start now.

“So, Mirrie,” Naomi said, wondering if this was a bad time to bring up the topic. “Are you OK? About the news about your brother?”

Mirrie sighed. “It’s not like it’s a big shock, hon. I know that Donovan has wanted to properly advance in the MC for ages… it’s why he made Enforcer at the age of twenty-two. He’s ambitious, though I don’t care much for his ambitions.”

“Enforcer?” Sarah echoed, a bit lost. “What’s that?”

“Enforcers are the guys who enforce the club code,” Mirrie explained. “They keep their brothers in check, but they’re also the ones who get asked by the President to go out and deal with external threats. They beat up suppliers who haven’t paid or baby competitors trying to cut into their business or territory. They’re basically the ones who do all the heavy physical and intimidation stuff.” She hesitated. “They – they take it as far as the President says, and they never question that command.”

“So… so they…” Gabi bit her lip. “Enforcers kill people if they’re told to?”

“Yeah,” Mirrie said tonelessly. “An MC member
can’t
be an Enforcer for a one-percenter club if they aren’t willing to do that.”

“Oh,” Sarah said in a small voice. Mirrie’s brother Donovan – better known to her as Joker – had once held a knife to her throat and in that moment, Sarah had
known
that he’d slit her throat without a qualm. She had exactly zero good feelings about Joker Kane, but she knew that being born and raised into the MC life had taken its toll on Mirrie in many ways. “I’m sorry, Mirrie.”

Mirrie looked down and away. “So you see, the fact that he’s just been promoted to Vice-President under Nails is no big surprise. Considering the current climate, Nails is going to want a warrior watching his back – and nobody’s more vicious than my brother. Nobody has more kills than he does, and he’s nothing if not loyal to the Angels. No goddamn
way
Donovan’s going to do anything that works against the interests of the club. He will, quite literally, shoot himself in the head before he lets down his brothers. He’ll die for them, and Nails knows that. After Ace’s betrayal, Nails is going to be looking for unquestioned loyalty to the MC – and Donovan’s nothing if not that.”

“And then if something happens to Nails –” Sarah’s words trailed off.

“Then my brother takes over as President, yes,” Mirrie said, her voice hollow. “And if
that
happens, God help us all, because he’s a brutal, violent beast of a man with no conscience or compassion. None.”

The women watched as Mirrie fingered the forget-me-not tattoo on her neck, and they knew what she was thinking about. When she’d decided to leave the ownership of the MC once and for all – since she’d been born into the club, she was considered club property – she’d gone and asked to be released. Her payment for freedom had come in the form of a severe beating, with every single patched-in Fallen Angels member being permitted to hit her as hard as they wanted, anywhere on her body – including her own father and brother. She’d survived it, barely, and it had brought Mac into her life, first as her doctor then as her boyfriend.

But if Joker Kane could do that to his own sister, then he could do anything to anyone, and the women had no illusions about that. The man was, indeed, an animal. A cold, hard, ruthless, calculating animal… which made him the worst possible kind.

“So,” Mirrie said briskly. “I’m OK about the news about Donovan being promoted to VP, Naomi. I’m OK because I’ve been expecting this day for a long, long time… and now that it’s finally arrived, I don’t mind telling you that I’m actually thanking Christ and all the angels above to be in this safe house.”

“Really?” Sarah said, thinking about Jax. “You’re fine with being away from Mac and having to close the café for an unforeseeable length of time?”

“Yes. I am.” She met Gabi’s eyes, and saw understanding there at least. If anyone else had reasons to want to be protected by a wall of solid muscle and steel, it was the woman who’d been thrown into a shallow grave in the Rockies. Gabi knew what she was hiding from. “I mean, Spider was planning to close The Web for extensive renovations anyway, so we just threw some money at it and shoved everything up by four months. No biggie, frankly.”

“Really?” Naomi said.

“Really truly,” Mirrie said. “And I think you guys need to understand something: if Nails and Joker are running the slash-and-burn revenge show, then we
want
to be right where we are, which is somewhere that nobody knows about except the people carrying guns around this place, surrounded by ex-military types trained in combat and security.” Mirrie twisted her fingers together. “Because honestly, the
only
thing that’s going to stop my brother from coming to finish the job on me that he started all those years ago is a gun pointed at his head. The
only
thing that’s going to stop the MC from finishing what they started with Gabi or Maria is a loaded gun. The
only
thing that’s going to keep
any
of us safe from harm or worse is standing out there in that kitchen… and we’d be damn good and smart to remember that when we start to feel frustrated or impatient.”

She took a deep breath, and in the silence, they noticed that all was quiet in the kitchen too – it seemed that
everyone
was listening to Mirrie. She continued:

“I
know
what’s coming for us, guys, and believe me when I say that we can’t handle it. Our men are tough and strong and some of them have military experience, but they’re not an organized team the way that King’s Men are. The only people who
can
handle what’s coming need to be as feral and fearless as the MC. They need to know how to shoot to kill, and can pull the trigger without hesitation or guilt, because what’s coming for us can do that so fast, it’d take your breath away. More importantly: these people standing between us and what’s coming need to hit their mark strong and true
every single time
– because if they miss and we get taken away? We’ll be put through something that will have us begging for the one thing that will make it all stop… death. And
that’ll
be the one thing that they’ll hold away from us. They won’t give us that sweet reprieve until they’re absolutely sure that we’ve suffered as much as they think it’s possible for us to suffer… and maybe they won’t even give it to us then.”