Burnout_ A Legal Heat Novella - Sarah Castille Page 0,19
he got early parole. And then he would come for her. But this time no one would be able to save her.
He waved a hand vaguely over the sweating movers. “Pretty clear your idea of justice and mine aren’t the same.”
“I suppose not.” Did Ace really have the power to hurt Ryan in jail? Could she condone that type of action? For the last year, she had relived the night of Ryan’s attack over and over in her mind. His sudden appearance in her bedroom in the middle of the night. The frantic pounding of her heart. Sheer and absolute terror sucking the breath from her lungs. The training that kicked in and had her reaching for the gun on her nightstand. And her inability to pull the trigger.
The stupidness of love.
Ryan was possessive, but not protective. He would get angry if she talked to another man, but not if she walked alone at night. So different from Ace. But she didn’t want to drag him into her nightmare of self-loathing. One night. That’s all this was supposed to be. “I’m sorry. Just forget about it. I don’t know why I told you all that. I hardly know you. I didn’t mean to dump—”
“Shhhh.” He stroked his thumb softly over her lips.
“Shhhh?”
“When I got you soft and sweet and lying in my arms, you’re gonna tell me everything from the beginning, real slow, and I’m gonna hold you while you do. Then I’ll deal with him.”
“You’ll deal with him?” Her voice rose in pitch. “You don’t know anything about him, Ace. Or me, for that matter. You don’t want to get involved.”
“I am involved. Not complaining, babe. Just stating a fact. Seems to me justice wasn’t done right if he’s still breathing.”
Sophie melted inside and turned away so he couldn’t see the tears gather in her eyes. She’d longed for justice even after Ryan had been put in jail. He’d managed to hire a good lawyer who had ripped her apart in court and convinced the judge to turn away key pieces of evidence. After all Ryan had done—the affairs, the lies, the heartache and betrayal, and the assault—he’d only been sentenced to three years in jail. Yeah, she wanted justice. Real justice. She’d never thought it would be offered up to her on a handsome-outlaw-biker platter.
“What about our conflict?”
Ace made a lazy perusal of her body, his gaze coming to rest on her face. “Only conflict we have is if you don’t go change your clothes. The Roadhouse is not the kinda place you want to be showing off those curves.”
He liked her curves. She couldn’t hear it enough. But it didn’t mean he could tell her what to wear. “Not changing.”
Ace frowned. “Yes, changing.”
“We’re not together.” She sidled past him and joined Jackie and Kickstand at the door.
He came up behind her and slid an arm around her waist, jerking her back against him. Sophie sucked in a sharp breath, shocked by his sudden intensity and the rush of heat between her legs.
“And if we were?” The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through her body.
“You still wouldn’t get to tell me what to do.”
With a growl, he threaded his hand through her hair and tugged her head to the side, baring her neck to the burn of his lips. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
* * *
“So…what does your new little squeeze do for a living…besides you, of course?” Jackie leaned back in her seat in the Roadhouse Bar and grinned at Ace. “And talk fast. ’Cause I’m all sorts of curious about Sophie, and we only have a few minutes before she returns from the restroom or else gets lost in the dark.” She brushed a few crumbs off the worn wooden table and sighed. “This place gets gloomier every time we come here. Maybe they’re trying to hide the fact they never clean.”
Ace looked around at the chipped dark wood, stained carpets, and tiny stage. “They serve proper Guinness. That’s all I care about.” He sipped the foam off his pint and took a moment to enjoy the thick, bitter taste of his favourite Irish beer.
“It’s got rickety tables, holes in the walls, twenty-year-old paintings of dead rock stars, and a DJ who doesn’t know the difference between Death Metal and Thrash.” Jackie folded her arms. “But you aren’t putting me off. Now spill.”
“She’s a cop.”
Jackie spluttered. “Jesus Christ, Ace. You hooked up with a cop? Your activities aren’t exactly Grade A certified legit. She