ACE:Las Vegas Bad Boys(51)

“You still at the hospital?” I ask.

“Yeah, I still have to talk with the doctor and figure out what happens next. And then I need to stay here until she starts talking. Which is why I am calling ... I can’t do this. Us. And I didn’t want to leave you hanging. You’ve been so good to me.”

“I’ll be there in thirty.”

“Ace, no.... you don’t have to.”

“I know I don’t. I can do what I fucking want. And what I want is you. I’m not letting you go that easy. I let you push me away last week. I’m not doing it again.”

The line is silent and I wonder if she doesn’t like the aggressive macho bullshit I’m pulling, the bullshit that happens to be the fucking truth.

But then Emmy speaks. “Okay,” she says simply. “I’ll see you soon.” And then she hangs up.

Emmy is a woman who doesn’t trust people, doesn’t ask for help. And okay, I get it, she has an effed up past—lucky for her I do, too. So her running away won’t get her very far. Not when I’m used to running just as fucking fast.



Emmy texts me what floor she’s on, so when I get to the hospital it doesn’t take me long to find my way to her. And the text was full of the unspoken truth. I mean, she says she doesn’t want me, doesn’t play games—but then hangs up and tells me where she is.

Some girls might run into the arms of a rich man, think that might solve their problems—but hell, Emmy Rose is a tough sell.

I just need to show her that she can trust me. That I’m the man for her.

Because I already fucking know she is the woman for me.

“Ace,” she says, the lilt in her voice gentle. When I reach her I see her eyes are red, her skin dry, her hair in a messy bun. But the tension from before, when she thought this day would end in death, is gone. For the first time I’m seeing a hopeful Emmy.

I wonder what a head-over-heels Emmy might look like?

I’ll fucking get back with the information on that, because I plan on finding out.

“You okay?” I ask, pulling her into a hug. Her whole body goes limp in my arms, like she’s been holding too much together for so long and just needs a man with whom she can fall apart.

“She isn’t, like, alive-alive,” Emmy says, her face pressed against my chest, not letting go.

I want to keep her here forever, and I know that’s selfish but it’s true. I want this woman like nothing else.

Emmy keeps speaking, “She’s blinking. Her brain activity is fluid. For a second I thought she looked at me. I don’t know ... I mean, that’s why I said the timing for us is off. I need to help her rehabilitate and it might be awhile.”

“Well, you aren’t moving into the fucking hospital. It doesn’t need to be one or the other.”

“I know ... but I just—Ace, I need to get this right. Maybe you don’t understand what family means—means to a girl like me.”

I shake my head, trying not to get pissed at her for not knowing me. That is the problem with us right now, I realize. Emmy doesn’t know much about me besides the fact I have a massive cock that her pussy craves.

I need to show her who I really am, what I can really offer.

“Do you want to come see Janie?” Emmy asks.

I swallow, not wanting to tell her that no, I don’t want to see Janie ... not at all. I want to avoid that possibility for as long as possible. For forever.

Emmy pulls away, looks up at me. “Actually, it isn’t a great time. I have to meet with the doctor right now. You can just stay out here, okay? I’ll come out to find you when I’m done.”

I nod, then kiss her lips—hard and true—before letting her walk away.

I sit in a hard plastic chair, pull out my phone, and start texting with my assistant, Denise.

Me: Clear my schedule for the next few days.

Denise: You got it boss.

I’m sitting in my chair, checking scores from tonight’s games, when the last person I expect to see stops to say hello.

It’s, Janet Denzel, the wife of my newly-fired lawyer. I stand up to greet her.

“Ace, dear, what are you doing here?” Janet asks, as I bend down to kiss her cheek. Her face is pale, her hands tightly gripping a walker. She’s wearing a bathrobe, and is clearly staying a while.

“A friend’s sister is here, we’re visiting.” I hesitate, then ask the hard question. “And you, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, Ace. Things have been rough. Touch and go really. I’m here for another surgery, tomorrow morning.”

She must see my face etched with worry, because she pats my hand, shaking her head.

“I’ll be fine, Ace. I will. What will be, will be. I’m mostly just worried about Mark.... He’s working so hard; I think he’s pulled in too many directions.”