“Hey.” Ace’s voice is sharp despite our situation. “Eyes on me, man. Don’t look at her.”
The authority in his tone doesn’t deter the man with the gun.
Eyes still on me, he sighs. “Sweetheart, you just made this a whole lot harder than it needed to be. Move, and your boyfriend here gets a bullet to the heart. Got it?”
Stiffening, my spine lengthening and hardening with his cold words, I nod. I don’t meet Ace’s eyes. I just keep staring at the gun.
The gunman’s eyes shoot back to Ace. “I’m really sorry about this, but I don’t have a choice. I’m leaving here with all the money you made tonight.”
Eight
ACE
If I could change one thing about tonight…
It’d be her.
I’d wish, in spite of all the crazy thoughts and feelings swirling through me when I look at her, that she’d never come into my warehouse. Because if she hadn’t?
She wouldn’t be trapped in a room with a crazy man and his pistol.
The fact that I have my own piece strapped to my waist doesn’t change anything. Pulling it might get Naima killed.
If it were just me here, I wouldn’t hesitate. A fight would already be happening, and whoever came out on top would be the outcome. I definitely wouldn’t be standing here letting this guy pull a gun on me in my own ring.
Forget that shit.
But I need to be smart now. Need to make sure Naima walks out of here unscathed. I owe her that much, because if it weren’t for me, she’d already be gone.
I suck in a deep breath and stare hard at the Suit. “What’s your name?”
He bristles, his head jerking back while his body goes rigid. “You really wanna go there right now, man?” He shoves me in the chest with the silver pistol in his hand. My eyes, always roving, drift down to stare at the spot where the gun meets my chest. Hot anger radiates outward from that point, coating me with a rage I’ve previously never been able to control.
God…please let me control it now.
“Hey. Okay, man. I can get the money for you…but let the lady over there head on out first.”
Knowing that if Naima can just walk out the front door, she’s resourceful enough to get herself home.
I try to keep my voice even as I hold his gaze. It flicks toward Naima and then back to me. He shakes his head, a quick turn that screams agitation and impatience.
“Not happening! Get me the cash. Now!” The last word is a shout bordering on hysterical, and it comes with another shove to the chest.
I toss my hands up, trying to pacify him.
Glancing at Naima I expect tears. I expect sobbing, a frantic mess of a young woman in her very first life-and-death situation.
Because given the way she must have grown up? It’s got to be her first. She’s not like me. This girl was raised in a good home, with two parents. Sheltered, protected.
And I’ve ruined all that in just a matter of hours.
But I when I assess her, I’m rocked with shock because I don’t see any of what I expected.
Her big brown eyes are wide. That’s a given. She follows every single movement the Suit makes. Her expression is wary and watchful. She’s kneeling on the couch, her arms resting on the back, her hands fisted. Her mouth turns down at the corners, and overall, she looks scared.
But more than that? She looks pissed.
Like if she could get close enough, she might wrap those small-fisted hands around his neck and squeeze.
Tough. Strong.
And so much different than any woman I’ve ever met.
I back toward the door to the office.
In the second I took to glance at Naima, my heartbeat slowed. But now that I’m focusing on the Suit and what I’m gonna do next, it’s right back to a full-out sprint, beating against my chest like a pounding gorilla.
“The office, where I keep the money, is just past this door. I’m gonna push through with my back, all right?” Keeping my tone calm is a challenge. All I want to do right now is explode all over this guy and make him regret ever having the balls to pull a gun on me in my own place. When that urge grows to the point where my blood threatens to boil over in my veins, and the heat on my face nearly burns me alive, I glance at Naima. Her bottom lip pulls between her teeth, the skin around the place she bites turning white. Her eyes are on me for the first time, and the fear in them blares. But still, she’s stoic. She’s not falling apart. She’s just watching. I can almost feel her confidence in me. Like I’m going to make sure everything turns out okay.
I want so bad to be the guy who deserves that confidence. It’s a realization that strikes me hard and fast. I’ve never felt that way before. Like I want to be better than I am for someone else’s benefit.
My back just grazes the door leading to the back hallway, where the office is located. At the end of the hallway there’s a door that leads to the back parking lot of the warehouses. It’s where my motorcycle is parked. Thank God Counts went home earlier in the night.
With a booming slam, the front door busts open at the same time I brush up against the door.
Two men rush in, both dressed in black.
My heart flies into my throat.
I thought this night couldn’t get any worse, but I was wrong. When it came to the Suit, I knew what I was dealing with. Deep down, I knew. A guy obviously desperate to climb out of the hole of debt he’d dug himself into. He thought he could win back what he owed at my ring. But he didn’t know the G-Ring is real, no matter how young the guy running it might be. He couldn’t take advantage, couldn’t make his winnings match what he owed.
His Plan B? Robbing me.
I can handle him. If it weren’t for Naima and the fact that I’m worried about her safety, that when I look at her over there on the couch, I want to rip my hair out with the desire to protect her, I could handle him. I’d have taken him out already, or I would have died trying.
But another unpredictable element just launched itself into my warehouse, and the fear of the unknown swims inside my veins.
Growing. Multiplying. Suffocating me.
Glancing at Naima, I jerk my head to one side. Hoping she can figure out what I want.
I want her closer to me. And she should do it now, with the distraction of the newcomers.
Without making a sound, she slips backward off the couch, and slides along the front of it. I turn my attention back to the three unwelcome men.
The newcomers have taken in the scene, assessing the Suit’s gun and me, backed against the hallway door.
One of them smirks. His greasy look makes me feel like I need a shower. He cocks his head to the side. “Really, Tristan? You think robbing this place is gonna get you what you owe?”
The other man snickers. “Motherfucking idiot.”
The Suit straightens, swinging the gun away from me and toward the two men. “I can get it!”
The oily one shakes his head, lifting his own gun. “You’re outta time.”
A soft, heat beside me reminds me of Naima’s presence before I even look at her. It’s a gentle ripple in the air, an awareness that tingles in my arms and legs. A heaviness pressing against my chest that won’t let up until she’s safe.
“No!” The desperation ringing out of the Suit’s voice lifts the hair on my arms. He sees the end of the line, and whatever that looks like for the bookie he owes scares the shit out of him.