chest brushes mine, thick and threaded with muscles. Ace has grown since our last encounter, the one that separated us entirely. Making him the villain and me the loser in our story.
He towers over me, making my five-foot-five form seem smaller than it is. His palm presses against my pounding chest, and the feral look in his eyes has me unable to breathe. What does he want? Why did one action ruin everything?
“Has he touched what’s mine, Storm?” The deadly way the question comes out has the hair on the back of my neck rising.
“Not yours, Ace,” I grit, barely able to grapple the strength to bite back. A cruel smirk curves at his lips, the way it says more than the very few words he said to me in the past five years.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Gray. You’ve been mine since birth,” he enunciates, acting as if I’ve forgotten our origins and how we were born exactly two weeks apart. “You have five years.” He taps his wrist, signaling time. “The clock is ticking.” Then he’s moving away from me, stealing my breath all over again.
My heart doesn’t know whether to pound or slow as it erratically tries escaping my chest, going in every which direction. His form daunting as it still closes me in. The ringing of my phone has him tilting his head toward it.
“Looks like Daddy is calling. You should probably answer.” He lifts my phone, unlocking it with the code I never changed. “So predictable.” His fingers glide over my texts, invading every ounce of privacy I thought I had. Instead of getting mad or feeling betrayed, a smile breaks free.
While Ace believes he’s winning and has the upper hand, it’s me who’ll win. Because unlike he realizes, I’m moving on, pushing past our memories. I’m living. It doesn’t occur to me how angry he is until he’s tossing my cell onto the ground and breaking it with his boot in the next breath.
My gasp lodges in my throat after he stares at me with dead eyes, intent on ruining everything.
“Can’t wait to meet him,” he growls, pushing forward to grab my throat. His fingers grip me in a way I’ve dreamed about, handling me in a way that both frightens me and makes my body ache with neediness. For a slight second, his eyes, that have been blacker as of late, seem to soften into the vacant sea ones I grew up loving. One second, he’s rubbing circles into my throat, and the next, he’s biting my lip, scraping his teeth against it.
A whimper escapes me; he steals it, swallowing it as his mouth devours mine. And when I don’t think I can no longer sustain the emotions bursting through me at such a short and simple touch, he’s gone. Fluttering my eyelashes, I have to wonder if I’ve imagined it all.
I haven’t.
The pickles and other liquids are still spilled and scattered, but he’s gone.
I touch my lips, feeling the swelling and wetness. Dragging my fingers across them again, I notice the blood. He marked me.
On the floor, surrounded by a mess, my phone is amidst the chaos. It’s cracked, the colors on the screen are wrong, but the light is still on. Picking it up, I notice a slew of messages.
Won’t be home, mon lapin. Please make sure you eat. And no, cotton candy isn’t a food group. Tears slip down my face as my life feels like a mess. Ace rattles me with every confrontation, and that’s what it is. A battle. Something to win or lose, and while he’s always got the upper hand, this time felt different.
Is she okay? I respond even though it’s been ten minutes.
She will be. I’ll make sure of it.
It makes my heart both swell and crash. There was a time Joey and my dad shared looks that scared me. Not that having a stepmom almost my age was scary, but it just didn’t occur to me it could be my best friend. But as time went on, they proved a kinship that made me jealous. They got along in a way Dad and I have never been able to connect. It was as endearing as it was infuriating.
Dad takes care of Joey and Uncle Toby. Their marriage is in shambles, and I feel as if I’m watching Lo and Jase all over again. The difference being Joey’s will to fight. It’s admirable if not stupid. Holding her as her world implodes isn’t easy, but it’s