"Damn, how can you do that?" I winced after unwittingly walking into the bathroom and catching a glimpse of Ace sitting on the edge of the tub with a needle and thread, stitching up the gash in his side.
Ace took a puff from the burning cigarette that was hanging from his lips as he pulled the thread through his skin to secure the final stitch. "Pass me the tape."
I reached around the big bottle of whiskey that stood stockily in the sink, and took the roll of surgical tape and scissors to hand to him. Ace snipped off the thread and patted the stitching with a blood soaked cloth before covering the entire wound with tape.
I sat down next to him on the edge of the tub, looking over his injuries. Large patches of bruising dominated his rib area, he had small abrasions across all of his knuckles and a minor cut above his eyebrow that he'd already taped shut. Kyle hadn't gone down without putting up a good fight.
We had barely said a word to each other since being back at his place. It had taken the entire drive home for him to stop lashing out at things and stringing out the profanities, and I would just rub his shoulders or gently smooth my hand across his knee to let him know I was there for him. Eventually, he calmed down, but his silence made it obvious that the episode still weighed heavily on his mind. I, myself, still felt shaken. I would literally tremble every now and then as I thought back through it all. Seeing Ace kneeling down by Kyle with that switchblade; I was torn over how to feel about that. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted him to talk to me.
"Are you OK?" I asked.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You seem so angry. I wonder if you're just worked up from the fight? Or... if you think this might have some really bad repercussions."
Ace took one last deep draw from his cigarette before tossing the butt into the trashcan close by. He was quiet for a while until he finally blew a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his short, blonde hair. "No doubt about it," he said. "And that's why I wanted to kill him. One reason. The bad blood between us goes way back. And it would've been the ultimate victory to do it."
"So... you're angry about being interrupted?"
"The old man would've been too late."
"You changed your mind?"
"Eyeball told me you were watchin'. If I'd done it, you'd be lookin' at me a whole lot differently right now. Wouldn't you."
"Well, taking a life is a big deal."
Ace winced slightly as he stood, and he washed the drying blood off his hands before grabbing up the big bottle of whiskey and spinning off the lid. He took a swig right from its mouth, and it swung by his side as he began to pace slowly around the room.
"You know it's in me. Dontcha?" he said.
"What's in you?"
"Most people, they'd get to that point, when you know one more hit will end them, most people couldn't do it. But for me, I'm not afraid. And it's only a matter of time before..." Ace stopped for another swig of whiskey before continuing his pacing.
"Well, maybe you had good reasons to wanna do it. Kyle's... psychopathic."
"Yeah? You think I had good reason to wanna kill Chris? 'Cause that time, it was the gun that stopped me."
I hadn't been there, but every time the incident was mentioned, my imagination conjured up a replay of the sickening scene in the thickest details. And it didn't stop where Ace had stopped. It tortured me by making me watch Ace go through with it. I shuddered and felt my stomach curdle, and if I had eaten that day, I probably would have put the food in the sink.
I shook my imaginings away, cursing them for causing me such anguish. Yes, it would have been a cold-blooded, heartless thing for Ace to take such a beautiful life like Chris from this world. But, it didn't happen. For whatever reason - whether it was circumstance, pure luck or some divine intervention, it didn't happen. Chris was still alive and well. And all the months I'd been with Ace, I had convinced myself that it was a one off; that Ace was better than that. That he had learned from it. And I still believed that could be the case. I just needed Ace to believe it.
"You're not a murderer. Remember? You told me that."
Ace let out a throaty chuckle with the whisky bottle swinging at his side. "Not if we're talkin' past tense."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Granted, I was rather chuffed that he was telling me this. For him to open up to me and talk feelings, that was big.
"To make sure you know what you're in for."
I chewed the corner of my lip for a moment as I planned my next move. I rose from the edge of the tub and stopped in front of him, his bare chest closing into mine as I blocked his pacing. I wrapped my arms around his war-torn waist and tucked my hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
"You gonna pretend like it doesn't matter to you?" he asked.
"No... it does matter. But not as much as all the good things you do."
Ace laughed sharply. "Good things, huh?"
"Yes! Good things."
"Like... ripping off cars, taking from the rich and the poor to give to myself? Yeah, I'm a fucking saint."
I scoffed at his cynicism, rolling my eyes. "You do do good things. You look out for me. You solved my Lewis problem, you... 'dealt' with Kyle. And you did it because... you care about me," I shrugged coyly. Sappiness didn't sit well with Ace - or at least, he thought - and any suggestion of it would usually make him pull up his staunch barriers and tease me about it. But not always. And I felt it might be easier to get my point across if I could soften him up. I tucked myself in a bit closer and peered up to him, hoping he'd let those barriers slip for me.
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk as those cunning, stony, blue eyes flicked down to my chest before meeting my gaze again.
"And not just me," I continued. "What about June? That night, you made sure she got home safely. And... and Ants..." I said more cautiously. "You cared about her a lot. That's what matters to me. That's what keeps me with you."
"Yeah?" His smirk grew as he chucked in his husky voice, and he gently pressed his groin into me. "And all this time, I thought you were into me for entirely different reasons."
"Well... you do have your other uses."
"Oh? Like what?"
I chuckled at him for being so suggestive and then turning the spotlight on me.
"You've always got good whiskey in the house." I snatched the bottle from his hand and poked my tongue out at him before bringing it to my lips. It was a big, bottom-heavy bottle, and when I tipped it up to take a swig, Ace smartly hit the base of it in an upwards motion, dislodging its mouth from my lips and causing a large portion to splash down onto my chest.
A sip of the spicy liquid caught in my throat, choking me a bit, and I sputtered as I peered down at myself. My new, light-blue shirt now had a large, wet patch growing at the chest as the whiskey soaked in. "Asshole!"
"Oh, so, I'm an asshole now. I thought I was your knight in shining armor," he smirked.
I was a little annoyed, but you know... I got where this was heading. I gave him the evil eyes and undid the buttons of my shirt before peeling it off. I was now in just a bra, and I modestly hid myself as I went to the sink and did my best to rinse the whiskey out. "This is gonna stain," I sighed. I squeezed the water out and, I'd been a little overdramatic as it actually washed out OK.
I threw the shirt into the pile of other washing on the floor and noticed Ace's cunning eyes wandering as he took another swig. "That looks wet too," he said, gesturing at my bra.
"It's fine," I grumbled under my breath. "Miraculously, it's still dry."
Ace lifted the bottle and poured whiskey all over my chest, and it streamed down my front, saturating my bra and soaking into the front of my jeans. I gasped in shock when the warm liquid hit me, wide-mouthed in disbelief. I looked down at myself to see whiskey dripping off me and into the puddle of it on the floor.
"Wet."
"I can't believe you just did that!"
Ace shrugged and lifted the brown, glass bottle for yet another swig, amazing me that there was still some left.
With the intention of paying him back the favor, I swiped at the bottle, trying to snatch it off him, but he moved to make me miss and held it up, over my head, too high for me to reach. I leaned in close to him, still reaching for it, but caring little about it now as I indulged in the feeling of my whiskey-wet chest squishing against his.
"OK," he grinned. He lowered the bottle and held it for me to take. "Here. A token of my generous, caring nature."
I took the now much more light-weight bottle from him and swirled the base which confirmed my assumption that it was empty. I tossed the bottle into the trashcan with a dull thud. "I don't know who you're trying to kid... Ace," I grinned coolly, "but, you're not fooling me."
Ace touched my arm with the back of his fingers, tickling my skin as he slowly trailed it down my forearm. Those stony blues started at me intently, giving me the warm and fuzzies. Maybe Ace didn't say things explicitly, but he had ways of speaking his thoughts far clearer and louder than words ever could.
He cupped his hand around my skinny side, and it smoothed up my spine, enticing me into a state of euphoria that was better than any whiskey could do. I felt my bra come loose around me, and I let it fall away as a smug smile came to his lips.
Rough fingertips pressed into the skin of my back while his other palm lightly grazed up my tummy, making my abdomen throb as he skimmed over a bare breast before riding up my sternum. His fingers and thumb went either side of my windpipe, and he gripped my chin, letting my head rest in his large hand. His thumb gently traced the bruise along my jaw, and then he pulled my lips to his. We should have been gentle considering the physical state of us both, but we were so worked up by now that we lost all sense of self-composure. Slow and sentimental turned hasty. But, in the midst of the usual rawness of our intimacy, I felt a sense of some new, deep, refined feelings of closeness between us. Perhaps it was the scare that Kyle could have ripped me away from Ace permanently that made us so needy for each other. It made us appreciate the moment more. It made us appreciate each other.
I lay there semi-conscious, feeling relaxed and in a state of bliss. Ace had fallen asleep an hour before, and he lay next to me on his stomach with his head stuffed under the pillow. The same way he always slept. It was dark out now, and I was feeling hungry. I tried to remember the last time I ate. It must have been those peanut butter cookies I made for Natalie, but that seemed like days ago.
I sat up and, on deciding not to walk around the house naked, I threw on some denim shorts and a singlet before wandering out to the kitchen to raid the fridge. I'd barely taken a bite out of the huge, five-layer club sandwich I made for myself when a rowdy rumble rolled like a storm down our driveway.
A single headlight shone through the windows so bright, I had to wait until the vehicle was turned off before I could peek out to see who was visiting. He got off his motorbike and, although I couldn't get a good view of his face in the darkness, I knew who it was. His bulky physique easily gave him away, and sometimes you can just tell a person by the way they walk. Saying I was nervous about seeing him would be an understatement, but if I didn't open the door, he'd wake Ace, and he needed to rest.
It whined on its hinges as I opened it wide.
"Cassie..." Keith said. He looked me over from head to toe, but not in the way that he used to. I sensed a standoffish air about him and, I must say, the feeling was mutual. Sort of. My feelings were very mixed. My attraction to him was still undeniable. Those deep blue eyes that you could lose yourself in, his solid body that would make any girl coo and sigh. His talent is what made him most sexy though. I remembered his fingers meandering across the fretboard like his guitar was a mere child's toy, and when he sang, his husky voice felt like soft feathers floating gently upon my ears.
But I had Ace now.
"I wasn't expecting to see you here... so late," he said.
"I practically live here."
The kitchen light shone brightly behind me, so we could clearly see each other. I wished I'd worn something more than a singlet. I could have at least put on a new bra. Keith stared at the bruises on my face and at the ones smeared all down my arms; I only discovered those ones when I showered earlier that afternoon. I'd had the stitches taken out a week before, so that was one thing. But I felt exposed and uncomfortable with Keith gawking at me.
"Did he do that?"
"Of course not..." I grumbled, offended by such a suggestion.
"Then who did?"
"Some shit went down, that's all. It's sorted. Now, what do you want?"
"I need to talk to Ace. Is he here?"
"He's sleeping. So, if it's not urgent, I'll get him to call you." I turned to go back inside.
"Cass..." Keith said, and I sighed before turning back to face him. "I heard about you and Ace a while ago and, you know, I thought it was gonna be you and me but, that's your decision."
The twang of accusation in his tone got me riled even more than I already was. I felt myself begin to boil inside. "I saw you with another girl."
His bitter expression softened. "Which one?"
"Which one?" I asked outraged. Just how many had he had? "I dunno - blonde, big tits, huge, stupid, blue bow on her head like Minnie Mouse. I saw you with her in Irby's one week after our amazing date." Lots of sarcastic emphasis on the 'amazing'.
"Marilyn," he said awkwardly.
"I don't care what her name is!"
He scratched the back of his scalp. "I was only with her two weeks-"
"Whatever. Just don't make out like me and you not getting together was my fault. I was devastated!" My voice cracked as I said that. Those feelings came back to me strong, and it was hard to look at him for a moment.
"Shit... I'm sorry, Cass. I didn't mean to... shit."
I stared at my toes for a while, not knowing what else to say. I glanced up at Keith, and his expression was humbler now. He looked genuinely sorry. Regretful even.
"It's not all your fault," I muttered. "It was me who broke it off, and it was wrong of me to expect you to wait."
"No. I was an idiot," he said softly. "You're amazing, and you were worth waiting for." He stroked my cheek with his finger, and my heart went boom boom.
"What the fuck's going on?" Ace walked out of the house and flicked the porch light on, squinting in its brightness and looking at each of us. He had thrown on a T-shirt to cover his abdominal wounds, but the cut above his eyebrow and the bruising on his face told the same story.
My heart was still going at a rate of knots, and I felt my cheeks turn a guilty bright red. "Keith wants to talk to you. And then he's leaving," I quickly added. I shot into the house to get out of the limelight, grabbed my sandwich and hid in the living room, in the dark, to eat it.
Ace brought Keith in and closed the door, and the two stood in the kitchen to talk.
"Where have you been?" Keith asked Ace. "I've been here three times this week."
"Busy."
"So, what's happening? I haven't had a delivery in weeks. I got guys crawling up the walls looking for the stuff."
"I'm not doing that anymore."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm telling you now," Ace shrugged.
Keith huffed and shook his head. "We had an agreement that I had to be exclusive with you. If I'd known you'd quit, I could've found someone else weeks ago."
"Well, now you know. So, go ahead and start searching."
Ace's obvious lack of compassion looked to be angering Keith. Keith's fists clenched by his sides and he stared at Ace like he wanted to use them.
"What happened to Cassie?" Keith said suddenly, unexpectedly.
"My girlfriend's none of your business."
"You keep her safe, you hear?" Keith glanced my way and then saw himself out, slamming the door behind him.
I took the final bite of my sandwich. There were too many emotions I did not want to deal with right then.
Ace wandered in to me, and his stare was so strong I had to cast my eyes away.
"Don't answer the door when I'm not around," he said. "Especially at night."
"Ace - I'm not five. I saw who it was before I answered it."
"The deal with him is the same as it always was. Don't talk to him."
"Ace, I..." Those other two little words niggled at the tip of my tongue. "You mean the world to me. You know that."
Ace wandered into the bathroom to where he left his packet of cigarettes, and then wandered back with one burning between his fingers. He drew in a lungful and then let the smoke stream out calmingly as if to release all of his tensions out with it. He collapsed next to me on the sofa, and just sat there for a while, puffing away with this thoughts.
"I don't want you boosting on your own anymore."
"I understand," I said. "I guess it's the best option, at least for a while."
"You can take Jack and Fuzzy with you. Teach them the ropes."
"Both of them? Oh... OK, I guess it will be good to have two other guys on hand. They could take turns. Yeah. That's a good idea - so we're not sending the same guy out every night."
"Not to take turns. To replace you."
"What?" Hearing that broke me a little inside. I felt he had lost total confidence in me.
"It's quite the compliment to need two guys, ain't it?"
"But... no. I'm not stopping altogether. Only until Kyle isn't a threat anymore."
"Kyle's always gonna be a threat, baby. He knows what you're doing. He knows what we're doing. And he'll take his revenge; mark my words. Whether he goes to the cops about his Chevy or uses Joe to stir up some shit... and there's always the chance he'll come after you again. Even a beating like he got won't deter the dumb fuck. We can't underestimate him. Shoulda killed him."
"But... we're supposed to be doing this together, as a team. I swore I'd stick by you. And anyway, I need to pay Diego. I've got deadlines to meet."
"You're not gonna pay him," he said matter-of-factly. "I am. Tonight it all ends."
"Erm... sorry?" I shook my brain in confusion.
"I can't stop thinkin' about what he did to Ants. She feared him every day, and she didn't deserve that, and neither do you. I want nothing more to do with that son-of-a-bitch. And that's why I'm quittin' selling to Keith. I got money that's been sitting in that safe for months, and I can't touch it until I clean it. And tonight, I'm gonna dump some of it on Diego's doorstep and tell him to go fuck himself."
I just gaped at him. The news was too much to comprehend. As of that night, Diego would be out of our lives? It felt surreal. It was like Ace had taken the load of concrete I had been carrying around for months and dropped it off a high, mountain cliff somewhere, and I watched as it disappeared down through the fog.
"OK... well, that's amazing. Thank you. But... how am I supposed to pay you back? I already owe you six, and Diego wants fourteen - you realize it will still take me a few months to-"
"Get that idea outta your head, Cass. I don't want it back."
"But... No! No way! You're not paying for me!"
"Yes, I am."
"No, you're not. I'm earning the money back."
"Teach the boys the ropes, and they'll earn it back."
I stared at him, not quite sure what he meant by that. "But... you've still gotta pay them..."
"Sure. Packs of smokes, get them laid every now and then... Don't take much to keep them happy," he shrugged.
"But... I feel... I don't want this. There must be another way. What the hell am I supposed to do instead?"
Ace traced along my bruised jaw with his finger. "Get a real job. Whatever you wanna do. As long as you're safe." Ace slid his hand up the back of my neck and gave me a smokey kiss. "Grab your shit. We're heading out."
