“Emmy Rose, we finally meet properly,” Grotto says, smugly.
“We haven’t met properly, actually,” I say, reaching in my bag. I need to call for help. Now.
“Give me your bag,” Grotto says.
I shake my head, not wanting to give this man anything. I saw how forceful he was in the hotel club. I don’t want anything to do with him.
“Now,” he demands, the timber of his voice cold.
I wouldn’t normally give up without a fight, but I see the gun in his hand, and know this is a battle I won’t win. I give him the bag, needing answers that I won’t get if I’m fucking shot.
“I thought you were called in for questioning,” I ask.
“I was released.”
“What did you have to do with my sister? How do you know Janie?”
“Oh, Janie and I have spent quite a bit of time together.” His lips curl into a wicked smile, and I want him to stop being so creepy, but I don’t think it’s possible. It’s like being a freaky gangster is in his DNA.
“Don’t be gross,” I tell him. “Why did the police call you in?”
“They thought maybe I knew something about the case, but they were wrong. What happened to your sister is a crime, and someone needs to be punished.”
“I agree,” I tell him, trying to swallow some of the discomfort. Clearly Janie was wrapped up in a sketchy scene here in Vegas, and I still don’t know the extent of it. “Why did trick me into the car? What do you want from me?”
“I want you to stop seeing Bullet,” Grotto says.
The air goes cold, my breath catches.
“You mean Ace?” I ask.
“Of course I mean Ace. Sweetheart, ever played a game of poker? Aces are bullets.”
When I don’t answer, he continues, “Listen, dear, a pretty girl like you will only complicate things for a man like me.”
“Complicate what?”
“My plans.”
“So you want me to stop seeing him because you want something from him? Does he know any of this?”
“Not yet. But he will soon enough.”
“I thought your issue with him was over a stupid piece of property?” I ask. “Go find some other land. Don’t get all creepy on me, pulling up in limos and taking my purse, over a building. Leave me out of it.”
“Too late, Emmy Rose.”
“Too late for what?” I ask.
“Too late for you and Ace.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
The limo pulls to a stop, and I see I’m being delivered to the hospital.
“Let me out. And leave me alone.”
“If you change your mind, Emmy, and you want my help, call me. I have plenty of jobs for a pretty thing like you.”
He hands me back my bag, and slips in a business card. I push open the now-unlocked door, tumbling out onto the sidewalk as quickly as I can.
He pulls the door shut from the inside and the car drives away, fast.
I’m left standing there, trembling.
What the fuck just happened?
I pull out my phone and dial Ace, but no one answers.
I leave a message.
“Hey baby, just … wanting to make sure you’re alright.”
I hang up feeling completely confused and caught off-guard.
I’m ready for things to start making sense.
I need them to.
22
ACE
After Emmy leaves my penthouse, I take a back exit out of the hotel, and get in my car. Driving across the city, I head directly for Denzel & Swopes, I need to see Mark before I meet with the guys about the property.
Exiting the elevator on the fortieth floor, I see Sherry sitting at her desk, tapping away at her computer.
“Ace,” she says, looking surprised.
“Mark busy?” I ask. I must be a lot more aggressive most times I come here, because she looks stunned that I’ve stopped and asked.
“He isn’t seeing anyone right now, let me buzz him out.”
I nod and begin pacing the room.
Mark walks out, and the sallow look to his skin makes me feel like a fucking ass.
Sure, he decided to represent that fuckhead Grotto, but he didn’t deserve to have me walk out like a fucking prick. Especially when his wife was dying.
“Ace, everything okay?” Mark asks.
When I shake my head, he waves me back into his office.
“I’m sorry, Mark, for being such a dick. I saw Janet at the hospital. I had no idea things had gotten so bad.”
“Well, you were right about Grotto. Something is off about that guy.”
“He still detained?”
“No, they released him this morning, and honestly, I don’t think he wanted my counsel. I think he wanted dirt on you.”
“Me?” I ask, the color draining from my face. “I don’t want any connection with Grotto. I need him off my back.”