Page 113 of Mace

“Ain’t promising that.”

“Right.”Fuck, just rip the plaster off.“He suggested if I slept with him, my debt would be cleared. I said no, obviously. He’s gross and sleazy. I paid him everything, but he showed up this morning with an eviction notice.”

His jaw tightens and begins to tick, and I thought he was furious before, but the darkening clouds in his eyes are terrifying.

“Mace,” I whisper when he says nothing, “are you okay?”

The air is thick and charged as cold fingers brush along my spine. “He wanted to sleep with you to pay off your rent arrears?” Each word is colder than the last.

“He’s a dirty, gross man, but it’s done, and it doesn’t matter anymore since he’s punishing me for refusing. Not that I feel comfortable living here anyway. Maybe it’s just the push I needed to finally look for somewhere else to live.”

Mace leans into me, his face a mask of rage. “He wanted to fuck you? That fuckin’ guy wanted to fuck my woman?” He grinds his molars together, his nostrils flaring. “I want every scrap of information you have on that fucking prick.”

Oh, shit. That response is not entirely unexpected, but I also don’t want Mace to go to jail for killing Bernie. “It’s fine. I’m fine. Your brother smacked him, and he left.”

That seems to help some of his anger, but not all of it. “You’re right. I don’t want you living here. There’s toomuch shit attached to this place. My apartment is too small, it’s only two bedrooms, but the club has a tonne of property in the city. What do you think we’ll need? Three or four beds? I know the baby will sleep in Ivy’s room for a while, but… what?”

I’m pretty sure he asks that because I’m staring at him with such a goofy, lovesick look on my face. He wants to move into our own place. Together. The thought of Mace coming home to me every night, of his clothes in our room, his boots by our door, is dizzying.

“You want us to live together?”

“Do I want to stop living out of bags and wake up every morning with my cock inside your cunt and my arms around you? Babe, you’re mine, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re already living together. I just never said anything because I didn’t want to freak you out.”

“I’m not freaked.” I wrap my arms around him, hugging him so tight. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of us.”

He lifts my chin, his gaze locking to mine. “I’ll always take care of you, Maylie. Always.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

MACE

I takeNicky with me to visit good old Bernie. Mostly because I’m worried I might kill him if I’m alone. He has an office in Star City, and as soon as we enter, I get the entire vibe of this guy. He thinks he’s some kind of business tycoon.

There’s no reception desk, and from the look of it, there’s only one office—his.

I don’t knock, putting a boot to the door and kicking it open. It swings back violently, hitting the wall with enough force to leave a mark.

An older guy is frozen, a phone held to his ear as he stares. I waste no time, stepping into the room and kicking the broken door closed behind us.

Nicky goes to the desk, pressing down the button on the phone to end the call, and takes the handset from him, placing it back in the cradle.

“Get out of here or I’ll call the police,” he threatens, reaching for the phone, but Nicky moves fast, the knife inhis hand embedding in the wood desk inches from Bernie’s fingers.

“They won’t help you, even if you could call them,” I say. I round the desk, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit jacket and dragging him to his feet. “You threatened my woman.”

“I don’t know your woman.” The words are strangled, his eyes darting with fear.

“Maylie Fernsby.”

Recognition dawns, and he looks like he’s going to shit his pants. “I never… I wouldn’t.”

I shove him back into the chair, which rocks savagely before I grab his hand and force it onto the top of his desk. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted to touch something that belongs to me, Bernie,” I say, my words calm even as my adrenaline thrums through my body in excited waves. “So, I’m gonna make sure you can never touch anything again.”

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