Everyone flinched at the suddenness of it, and Vern's eyes went so wide that the entire whites could be seen as he extended his ear to listen for more. But, I bet no one was more disturbed by Ace's presence than I was.
You know that feeling you get when you drive too fast over a small hill? That's what I felt. I got that quick hit of horrible and unsettling nausea in my stomach. Sure, I could smile and joke and laugh with Chris for a time, but under that layer of joy, my grief was still raw. Hearing Ace's voice melted that layer away, exposing my grief to the air and the elements, leaving it tender to the touch.
"Nothin' to worry about, huh?" Teddy scowled at me, his top lip curling.
"Just chill out, Teddy." Chris twisted to look out the window behind him, his eye peering through the one tiny clear patch that wasn't stained yellow from cigarette smoke.
"Is it all of them?" Gordie asked.
"I don't think so. Looks like it's just Ace. Any idea what he wants?" Chris asked me.
I shook my head no.
"Cassie!" Ace's voice rang out.
Teddy scowled at me through his thick-rimmed glasses, his bottom lip pursing into his top.
"You're right," I muttered. "It's my fault he's here." I took a breath and then reached for the hatch.
"Cass," Chris said, "you don't have to do this if you don't want to." His expression was soft and sympathizing, and I'm sure he was aware of the dread I was feeling.
"He's not going away unless I do what he says."
"I'll come with you then." Chris rose from his barrel seat, but I pushed on his shoulders to make him sit down again.
"No. I'll go. He'll want to talk, that's it. And if you go down there, feathers will get ruffled, and we don't want this turning into another ugly confrontation. Stay here."
Chris nodded, and his shoulders relaxed to sit tight. Good boy.
I got the hatch up - with Teddy's willing help - and my legs felt like jelly as I made the six or seven rungs last long enough for me to get my head together… to some degree.
The guy that had always sent me breathless stood just a few yards away, his loyal '49 Ford Custom at his side. With fists in his tightly folded arms, his jaw was clenched as he glared at me with a slight squint at the corners of his eyes. Those arms - so many times had I woken up to find myself tucked up inside them, his bare chest warm against my back. But his eyes - those stony blues I once fell for looked less and less familiar as the weeks went by. Seeing them reddened from lack of sleep was usual these days, but as he stood before me then, the dark smudges beneath were burrowed so deep that his eyes looked eerily hollow.
"Well, what the fuck do you know about this?" he said. "I'm out here handling shit while you're playing forts with a bunch of bratty kids."
"Can you make this quick? It's my turn to load the cannons."
"Is that supposed to be funny? Do you know what the fuck I just did for you?"
I was taken aback. "Sorry…" I cleared my throat. "What's going on?"
Ace reached into his car and grabbed a series of about eight photographs and shoved them at me.
In the first photo, it wasn't clear what I was looking at. Things were dark and grainy, and all I could make out was the rear-end of a car and a license plate. But, as I flicked through each photo in the series, the story they told choked the breath from my body. A figure came into view and stood next to the car - it was a woman, slim, my height, stupid, obviously - opened the car door, got in, and drove away. The license plate and my face were crystal clear in these photos; it was the ultimate evidence of this car's fate.
It still messes with my head that I hadn't seen a camera flashing. I mean, it was at nighttime. And when? When were they taken? This wasn't Mr. Watkins's car. It was different. But I've stolen so many others that remembering a specific one would be near impossible. I guess I'll never know.
Ace snatched them from my shaking hands and shoved me two more sets, each set telling the same story as the first.
"I think I'm gonna throw up."
"I had to buy these from Joe. Can you guess what they cost me?"
"Joe took them?"
"Kyle would have told him about you. Looks like he had you followed."
I leaned in on my stomach. Seriously, I could feel my breakfast wanting to make a reappearance.
"You know what I had to give him to get these, right?"
I nodded, the gravel at my feet blurring slightly. I couldn't raise my head. I couldn't look him in those dark, exhausted eyes.
Ace snatched the photos from me, took his zippo from his back pocket, and lit the corner of the entire stack. The flames flared, crawling up the black and white images, and Ace dropped them to the ground to watch the inferno grow. The once clear pictures bubbled and distorted until the evidence was a pile of black ash.
"They were the only copies?"
"All Joe ever wanted was that file back. Now that he's got it, they're useless to him."
Joe's file - it was the one piece of leverage Ace had against him. Ace would have had to retrieve it; he would have dug it up from its hiding place that was somewhere between here and Timbuktu. I'm sure Joe would have loved watching it burn. But I had a feeling this wasn't over.
Still holding my stomach, still unable to look Ace in the eyes, I muttered, "If Kyle gave Joe information, what did Joe give him in return?"
"That's the thing, ain't it?" Ace handed me one more photo. It showed initials scratched into, what looked like, metal.
"KJ + JK. What does that mean?"
"It's an engraving on Kyle's Chevy. Kyle told Joe about you, and Joe found Kyle's car."
"Wait… what? Based on this? But you completely stripped the car back! It went out looking like the other gazillion Chevy's out there!"
"Apparently this was missed."
"But still! How did he find it?! It's like a needle in a haystack!"
"Joe put a call out to every hotrod club in the county, asking for anyone who'd just bought a used '55 Chevy to contact him. The reward was $200 - nothing compared to what it was worth to them. Kyle's gone to the cops and told them it was all me. They've got no solid proof on it, but my inside man down at the cop shop told me they followed up the lead anyway, traced the sale back to our sales yard, and the cops are all over it right now."
"…Shit!"
"Larry told me his paperwork's tight and the cops won't prove nothin'. But who can trust a crooked salesman when you're not payin' them anymore?"
I leaned on the front of Ace's car, needing something to help stabilize the dizziness. I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt void of oxygen, and the lack of it went straight to my head.
"Anyway, I'm not hanging around to find out," Ace said.
"You're leaving?"
"Even if the cops don't get me this time, they'll be watching me closer than ever. It's too risky to keep going around here. The whole business is fucked."
"But… you're still looking for something else, right? To get the money for those guys? You can't just let that go-"
"Everything I've built is fucking gone! Don't you get that?" It was like being blown in the face with a foghorn. I flinched back, feeling my ears ring and wiping the flying spots of spittle off my chin. His chest heaved and his fists were tight by his side like he was pumped to hit someone.
I stepped back, feeling slightly uneasy. But, yeah, I understood. Everything around Ace has changed over the last months. Vince is gone, Ants is gone, Eyeball's loyalty is rocky, there's heat on him from all angles, he has no money left after all his hard work, and me… was I a strong backbone supporting him through it all? I don't think so, and the evidence of that was right in front of me. He was right to want to leave because the stress was killing him. Literally.
Runners stamped down the rungs of the treehouse ladder, warping me out of the other dimension I'd been in. Teddy stood beside the tree trunk. I'd forgotten the boys were up there. I'd forgotten they were even in the vicinity. We were usually careful about where we discussed our business, but now, I guess, there was nothing left to protect.
The muffled voices of the other boys calling Teddy back echoed through the trapdoor hole, and I waved at him, trying to warn him away, but it seemed there was no controlling this one. Teddy carefully paced towards Ace and I, clutching the dog tags that hung from his neck.
"What the fuck do you want, Four-eyes?" Ace spat.
Teddy stopped just a few yards away and unclenched his fist from the dog tags. "How did you find this place?"
"Teddy, not now…" I hissed.
"I've always known about it," Ace said.
"Since when?" Teddy asked.
More shoes stamping down the rungs. Three more pairs, one by one. I rolled my neck, realizing my complete lack of control over the situation. Why wouldn't they just listen to me and stay up in the damn tree?!
Chris walked up to Teddy and tugged at his arm, but Teddy shook him off.
"How do you know there's no more of 'em?" Vern asked Gordie as the two hung close to the ladder. His eyes were wide and darting in all directions as if checking that Eyeball and the rest wouldn't suddenly jump out of the bushes.
"You guys think this place is a big secret?" Ace said. "Your secret headquarters?"
"We just wanna know there won't be any trouble," Teddy said.
"I'm not here to make trouble. I've got no gripe with you, Froggie. As far as I remember, you've paid any dues owing. So, why don't you shut it and take Jackie, Spanky and Alfalfa back up to the playpen."
"Hey, I don't look like Alfalfa!" Vern muttered to Gordie.
Teddy rolled his eyes and twisted to Vern behind him, "You're not Alfalfa, Dufus. Gordie is."
"Well then… who am I?"
"Spanky!" the three chimed.
"The fat kid. Gee, thanks, guys."
The side of Ace's nose twitched as he grinned at Vern. "Billy said your mother dropped you when you were a baby - it's true ain't it?"
"No, but it's true your mother abandoned you," Chris quipped. "Ain't no doubt about why."
Ace's grin quickly faded, and his jaw clenched tight enough for the tendons in his neck to stick out. There was a whisper of a snarl before he stepped forward, and many weeks' worth of pent-up anger surged through Ace's arm in a right-hook that swept above Chris's head, grazing his hair as he ducked to dodge it. Chris lunged at Ace's middle, his growing arms tackling him around the waist, and he drove him backward some yards with such vehemence that Ace would have toppled backward if he hadn't managed to anchor his boot into the dirt. Chris got one punch into Ace's ribs before Ace bent real low, wrapped an arm around both of Chris's legs and lifted him into the air only to dump him on the gravel, shoulder first.
"Chris!" I sprinted the few yards and skidded into the dirt on my knees, putting myself between the two and being mindful of how much damage Ace's steel-caps can do.
"You've still got that death wish, huh, Chambers?" Ace said. As Chris coughed and sucked dusty air into his lungs, Ace paced backward to his car. He reached into the glove box, pulled out a revolver, and pointed the ugly, black barrel at my young friend.
All color faded from the scene. It faded from the boys' faces, from the huge elm tree, and from every scraggy blade of grass around us. It was like a nightmare had blown in on the breeze and cloaked the world.
"Shit… Chris… get up." I stared at the black thing clasped in Ace's grip, helping Chris to his feet. An uncontrollable quivering started in my stomach and rippled outwards through every limb, making my arms almost too weak to lift him.
Ace strode forwards, his elbow locked with the gun straight out in front of him. Chris and I stumbled backward, but really, there was nowhere we could go. Ace stopped within inches of us and aimed the barrel right between Chris's eyes.
"Ace…" I said, "where did you get that?"
"Always told you I'd do it, Cass. Didn't I? Looks like today's gonna be the day." Ace's hollowed eyes were wide and focused as he edged the gun closer.
With Ace, I had always felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff with him holding me tight and never letting me fall. But, at that moment, I realized we had been falling for a long time. Together. It had been one long journey downwards, and this is what the darkness held for us in the depths of the pit.
"Ever since you were born, you've been nothin' but a thorn in my side," Ace muttered. "I shoulda cut it out long ago."
Chris swallowed hard, but the resilience in his eyes was just as strong as ever. He licked his dry lips, and the unders of his eyes stiffened. "Then go right ahead, Ace. Show Cass what a crazy fuck you really are."
Ace's nose scrunched. He brought his thumb down on the cock, the chunky click of it making me jump as I gasped in a lungful of terror. I thought that was it; I thought that was the shot. But Chris was still there. He was alive and still standing. And I thought there was only one thing I could do to keep him that way.
I side-stepped, placing myself in front of Chris, using my quivering body to shield his.
"Get the fuck out of the way," Ace said.
"Yeah, Cass," Chris demanded from behind me, urgency in his voice. "Get the fuck away!"
The loaded weapon was pointed right in my face, and I closed my eyes to take a moment to feel it there and to anchor myself and to be at peace with myself if this was to be the end of my story. I opened my eyes again to see the small round hole at the end of the revolver and Ace's narrowed eyes staring down the barrel.
"If you're gonna point that thing at anyone, it should be me," I said. "Chris isn't the thorn in your side. I am. Everything has turned to shit because of me. I got into debt with Diego. I let Kyle see me that night. He wouldn't have known anything otherwise. You've done nothing but try to clean up after me this whole time. And what do I do? I betray you. So, if you're gonna… pull the trigger on someone, I think you have to agree there's no one more worthy."
Ace's chin trembled just visibly as he tried to hold that stoic expression, and then the trembling rolled down the length of his arm and to the gun in his fist. That little hole at the end of the weapon shook as Ace tightened his fist around the grip, and as his forefinger squeezed down on the trigger ever so slightly.
He suddenly swung his arm away to the right and there was a rapid-fire Boom, boom, boom! Click, click, click!
The three bullets hit something with dull thuds. With my heart in my chest, I madly eyed everyone to check it hadn't been any of the other boys.
Gordie stood by the tree, white as a ghost, as his whole upper body shook. His skinny frame was stiff as a board - scared stiff - as he turned to look at the tree trunk which was no more than an inch away from him. There were three small, black bullet holes embedded deep into the bark - holes that would forever serve them as a reminder of this day.
"You're not so fucking mouthy when you're on that end of the gun, are you Lachance?" Ace said so softly I barely heard him.
Vern peered out from behind the tree, his eyes darting to see what happened. Perhaps he'd done the smartest thing of all of them, hiding behind there.
"Teddy, are you OK?" Chris asked him, and Teddy nodded with bated breath, his eyes bugging out like he'd inhaled something horrible.
Ace had lowered his gun, and it stayed gripped in his hand which still trembled at his side. "Cass, get in the car," he said, and the sun shimmered off the couple of tears that had rolled down his cheeks.
Ace crying. Fuck. We really were at the bottom.
I nodded and rushed to the passenger's side of the car.
"Cass!" Chris called. "You can't seriously be-"
"Take your buddies up there. Even better, go home. I'll be fine."
I closed the door on myself as Ace got behind the wheel. He leaned over to the glove box in front of me and opened it, and I caught a glimpse of an ammunition box before he shoved the gun in there and shut the flap tight.
It was a scary ride home. Ace floored it the whole way, ignored all road rules, and wove through the traffic up Grand Street like the vehicles were obstacles in a slalom. All I could do was hold on tight until he finally turned the car into his place and shoveled it into the gravel at the bottom of his driveway. He got out and slammed his door, still without a word or even so much as a glance my way.
I followed him into the house, and my mouth dropped open in horror as I looked around the kitchen. There were holes in cupboard doors. The cupboards that didn't have holes had been ripped off their hinges and were strewn across the floor. Broken ceramic plates and bowls were scattered everywhere, and glass shards from the windows were shattered all over the bench. The dining table was on its side with a gaping hole in its middle, and the wooden chairs had been smashed against the walls and were now piles of wooden stakes. I walked into the living room to see more destruction. The television was on the other side of the room, lying dead in a pile of glass, cushions were scattered everywhere, and the walls bared the scars of Ace's rage. He'd kicked his house's ass, and he'd kicked it good.
I walked back into the kitchen, mouth still agape, and Ace grabbed a beer from the fridge - the only thing in the entire room that looked untouched.
"Your stuff's OK," he said. "You can go down there and grab it."
I nodded while stiffly turning on my heels and headed down to the bedroom. I expected to walk into another disaster zone, but everything was in its place. Even the bed was still made from when I did it days ago. (Ace never makes the bed). I grabbed an empty backpack from the wardrobe and knelt beside the dressers to open one of my draws. Lines of neatly folded, dark clothing lay before me. Black jeans, dark-blue jeans, navy blue T-shirts. I closed the draw again. Taking this stuff would have been like taking the life with me. The second draw had underwear, singlets, shorts, and lighter shirts. I picked up a light blue shirt and had a flashback of the time Ace poured whiskey all over it. Shit. I missed him so much.
I walked out of the bedroom to see Ace leaning against the wall in the hallway, swigging his beer, his dark, sleepless eyes staring at me. Soulless, they seemed.
"That's all you want? Your stupid box?"
I looked down at my blue shoebox of family photos. It was hard to believe I had almost walked out of town without it. "Everything else reminds me of you," I said. "The old you."
I walked out with a horrible lump swelling in my throat, tripping over and fumbling around nearly every piece of broken furniture on the way. The fresh afternoon air helped me to pull myself together which took every one of the ten minutes I had before I heard wood and glass being crushed under boots as Ace made his way through the kitchen. He walked out with two big duffle bags full of his stuff and dumped them on the back seat of the '49. A six-pack of beer was stuffed under his arm, and he threw that on the passenger's seat. I wondered if he meant to leave the door to the house wide open.
"I'm selling up," he said, standing with his back to the car. "The house will probably get bulldozed so… you'd better be sure you don't want anything. I'll be back in a few weeks to deal with the house, grab my truck. Markus has the Dodge. So, you don't need to worry about anything. 'Cause I know you will."
I had already wiped away the last of the tears, but my eyes prickled and would have shown every sign that I hadn't held it together. "Why did you bring me here?" I asked. "The last thing you owe me is another favor."
"You fucked up. A lot. But this isn't all on you. Joe, he was my problem and I should have… dealt with him differently. And I missed that engraving."
"We were swamped with work, and you were trying to do it all on your own."
"Look, I just wanna go. Can you get Chambers to pick you up from here? The phone still works."
"This is a change for the books…"
"You two want each other," he shrugged, "have each other. I'm not in your way anymore."
"How can you say that? What you and me had… it was like gold to me. I thought it was gonna last forever."
"It can't have been that good if you're trying to forget it. That's why you're leaving your shit, right?"
"I will never take for granted what you've done for me - you hear? I'm forever in your debt. And I don't want to forget you, it's just… painful to remember. Things were good… and then… they weren't. The Ace I loved… I think he's gone. And I'm not… strong… in that way. I'll drive myself crazy like my mother did, wanting something I can't have. And that's why I need to shut the door on this whole part of my life and just go. Start fresh."
"You're leaving too?"
"Yeah."
"So… this is really goodbye then, huh?"
I nodded and held my breath to help hold in the tears - I was gonna break… right in front of him… shit…
I turned away and tried to breathe, but a loud sob hitched at the back of my throat and the sound was unmistakable. "Shit…" I said, sniffing away the run of my nose. "Yeah, you need to go," I said, wiping my eyes. Again.
The warm, rough hands that used to melt me inside stroked my bare arms, and I flinched at their touch. Ace tried to turn me around, but I shrugged off and tried to break away from this madman who had taken my baby's place.
"Cassie," he said firmly, and he forcibly wrapped me up in his arms and held my head to his chest. I could hear his heart beating. Racing. That same heart I had heard a million times before. "I'm not gone," he said in my ear. "But I gotta get outta here or I'm gonna fucking lose it. You get that, right?"
My head snapped up to look at him, and through those worn-out, completely knackered eyes, I saw Ace in there. My Ace.
"You know this is the best thing for us." He kissed me on the forehead before pulling out of my embrace, leaving a chill where his warmth once was. He got into the car and started it up, and all I wanted was to tell him to stop, that everything would be fine, to just… come back.
My bottom lip wobbled as I bit onto it, breathed deep, and held myself back from uttering any words. I knew he was right. He needed to get away. And so, I let him go. The stones crunched under his wheels as he drove up the gravel and turned left on the highway, leaving my sight. And as the sound of the V8 faded into the distance, and as I became a blubbing mess in the gravel, I knew I wasn't going anywhere.
So, how was it? Lol. Originally, I was going to let the boys have a proper go at Ace, all of them jumping on him like wild animals haha, but I soon realized that this wasn't about them. It's about Ace coming to the end of himself. I'm excited to see what happens when he... I mean... IF he comes back. Oh, go on - you know he will. This story is about him after all! Will he be like... insane? Or back to his normal self? Or... have a new girlfriend?! Ooh... the choices haha. That's what I love about this. The possibilities are endless! Let me know what you'd like to see happen!
