Page 7 of Daddy's Oath
So much so that it felt like lava was boiling just beneath his skin.
That’s what worthless trash like he was following did to him.
Ace didn’t consider himself to have a temper. In fact, he was often praised for his ability to keep calm and collected in tough situations. He was a helicopter pilot, after all. You lose your head while controlling a chopper and you risk killing yourself and others. It took a steady hand and chill demeanor. But when he saw someone do what this asshole had done… well, it weighed on Ace.
He'd watched as the idiot slipped something into the soda he’d bought for the Little. It was fast. And the guy was smooth about it. Obviously he had practice.
But Ace had still caught it.
He’d nearly lost it when “the Little” raised the cup to her lips. It was now or never, he thought. There was no way he’d let her drink that thing. Not even a single sip.
Just as she was set to do so, though, she put the cup down next to her date’s, on the surface of a midway game, and took aturn trying to throw bean bags at balloons to pop as many as she could in a few seconds. After laughing the entire time, she picked back up her drink.
Her date did the same.
“Cheers,” Ace could overhear her say as she held it up.
Her date lightly bumped her paper cup with his and then they both downed a healthy dose while looking into one another’s eyes.
Ace was livid. He’d tried to reach her in time. Blowing his cover didn’t matter now. Saving that woman was all he cared about.
“Damnit! She drank some!” he growled.
In his earpiece, Matteo said, “Shit. We need to move in.”
“Already on it. We’re by the games. Balloon pop is the closest one.”
“I’m almost there,” Jack said.
“Me, too,” Isaiah added.
Ace didn’t wait for reinforcements. Instead, he grabbed the asshole by the arm, jerked him around until he faced him, and said, “You son of a bitch.”
His fist landed hard on the guy’s jaw, sending him to the ground with a hard thud.
People started to scramble. Someone yelled for the police. A few people started recording the scene on their cell phones.
“Hey! What are you—” The man scrambled to his feet uneasily, staggered awkwardly for a few paces, and then fell right back down.
“Damn. I didn’t hit him that hard,” Ace said.
The woman smiled. “I know. He’s probably feeling a little woozy since I switched our drinks.”
It took Ace a moment to realize what she was saying. A grin split his lips. “Nicely played, Athena.”
The woman gave a playful curtsey, then reached up and removed the two ponytail holders before shaking her hair, allowing her raven locks to fall around her shoulders.
Athena loved Littles, Ace knew. But she wasn’t one. It had been a stretch playing the part.
Just then, the other men arrived on the scene, along with two patrolmen.
“What the hell are you all doing here?” one of the officers asked, looking at Ace.
“Hiya, Cooper. How’s the Santa Monica beat treating you?”
As former LAPD officers, Ace and the rest of the Daddy Guard knew a lot of the local cops, even in the surrounding communities.
“Was nice and quiet today,” Officer Cooper said. “Until you came around and punched some guy out. What gives, Ace?”
