Page 68 of The Sentinels

Emerson

"So talk."

It was the first thing out of Ace's mouth when we reached his bike, which was parked in a dark corner of the parking lot. The evening had gone from anticipation of hot sex to a tension-filled silence of discomfort. I couldn't tell him about my father, whom I'd caught a glimpse of inside of JJ's. He'd been standing by the door, just watching me with a cold, condemning expression, disappearing the second that he knew that I'd glanced up to see him there.

It was as if he wanted to make sure that I knew he was around, but the second I did, he took off. It frightened me because I didn't know what he had planned. It was now clear that he was stalking me, but for what reason? Since he hadn't approached me, was he just trying to keep me on edge? Or worse, wait until I became immune to his unexpected appearances and then pounce once my guard was down? Should I phone the police? And what, tell them that my father was recently released from prison and I thought that he had it out for me?

Certainly he knew to never approach me; there was a no contact order. Would he honor it? He'd just spent twenty years in prison; surely he wouldn't do something that would land him back behind bars. He hadn't actually contacted me yet but if he did I wouldn't hesitate to turn him in.

I wish that I had the guts to tell Ace. Ace would keep me safe. But what if he looked at me differently once I confessed my secret? What if he looked at me as if I were something unclean and ugly? It would kill me. A snort brought me out of my musings and back to the present. Ace was standing there, feet braced apart and arms crossed. Even in the darkness I could see the gleam of his watchful eyes and feel his impatience. I knew that he would only wait so long.

I stepped close to him, placing my hand on his chest. "Can we just go home and make love?"

He grabbed my wrist. "I don't make love." That hurt, and I knew that he was being rough because he was pissed at me for keeping something from him. "I might consider fucking you after you tell me what the fuck is going on."

What? My jaw dropped with disbelief. As if I'd let him now. He was going to hold sex over my head? Two could play at that game. I squashed down my disappointment when I sensed that the night wasn't going to end as I'd anticipated. Irritation began to set in response to his being so demanding and unreasonable.

It suddenly occurred to me that as stubborn as I was acting for not wanting to tell him, he was being just as obstinate to demand that I do. What made it okay for Ace to demand anything from me? I loved him, but he didn't know that, and right now we were just fucking. We weren't even a dating couple.

I stepped away from him and slapped my hands on my hips. "I have nothing to say. I thought I saw someone. I didn't. No need to make it into something that it isn't."

"Someone who scared the fucking shit out of you," Ace growled. He would focus on that. "I know you're keeping something from me, Emerson. If it's someone from your past we need to deal with, I'll deal with it. Fuck, my whole club will, if it comes down to it."

I shook my head, fighting to hold back tears. I couldn't tell him the truth. I was too ashamed and embarrassed. But one thing I did know, in spite of the protective order I'd have to confront my father the next time that I saw him and demand to know why he was stalking me, because I couldn't go on the way I was. I was afraid that I'd see him around every corner, afraid that he…a damned tear fell down my cheek, and I choked out, "I can't."

I heard his resigned breath. "Not sure I can accept that, baby girl. I can't protect you if you're not honest with me. But more than that, I can't trust you." I caught my breath. "If you have trouble coming your way, it brings trouble to my brothers."

Oh, God, was he saying what I thought he was saying? Was this leading up to breaking things off with me? "We all have secrets—"

"My gut tells me that your secrets could hurt someone."

"Only me," I said without thinking.

It grew silent between us.

"Tell, me," Ace insisted after a while. "Trust me to protect you."

I knew that he would, but once the words were out there would be no going back, and I just couldn't bring myself to say them out loud. I couldn’t bring myself to confess my sins. I was frozen with indecision as to what I should do, and then the solution came to me. After I confronted my father, then I would tell Ace. Maybe not everything, but enough.

"Can I have a little more time?" I asked softly, praying silently. "There's something I have to do first."

He exhaled loudly. "That's not going to work for me." He sounded so disappointed. He mounted his bike. "Get on."

"Ace—"

"Get on, Emerson. I'll take you home."

I ignored the urge to continue to plead my case, and got on behind him. Maybe the ride home would give Ace enough time to think things over and decide to let things be for now. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, determined to enjoy the short ride to my apartment. I loved riding behind Ace, tight against his large, powerful body. He blocked the wind from me, yet before long my loose bun had come down completely and was flowing out behind us like a long veil. We were flying down the street, surrounded by darkness.

In no time Ace was pulling up to the curb in front of my complex. I got off with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. He made no attempt to shut down or dismount. He sat there, staring straight ahead.

"I'm sorry I ruined our night."

He turned his head to look at me. "It's okay, baby girl. Call me when you can trust me, yeah?" Or don't call him if I couldn’t. Is that what he was saying? His tone sounded final, almost indifferent. He reached forward and grabbed a handful of hair, bringing it to his nose before letting the long strands run through his fingers. "I'll wait until you're inside." His dismissal couldn't have been any clearer.

"Goodnight." I turned reluctantly and walked away. I didn't look back, reaching my apartment door with tears swimming in my eyes. I should have just told him and got it over with, and then maybe he would have come inside with me and we would have spent the rest of the night together.

But how do you tell the man that you love that your own father was a child rapist?

---