“Truth,” I murmur, my lips hovering an inch from hers.
“Then let me ask you again. Do you trust me?”
I nod.
“Let’s do this.”
* * *
I don’t like this. I don’t like this one fucking bit. I watch Ace dial Jack’s number with a clenched jaw, convinced we’re all going to end up dead or in prison. But she asked for my trust, and after hearing her side of the story, I grudgingly told her she had it.
Those big doe eyes got to me as she explained what had happened, and her logic behind following this path was enough to convince me she’s right. I assessed every movement as she laid out her plan. I couldn’t detect a single lie in her absurd story concerning how she received that damn card. Watching her closely, I still can’t find a single bone in her body that whispers betrayal. Either I’m going soft, or she’s telling the truth. I just pray that my feelings for her haven’t clouded my judgment. But I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.
“Um, hey,” her soft little voice murmurs into the receiver. “Yeah, it’s me, Ace.”
Silence.
Her gaze darts over to me before looking down at her sneakers. “I’m fine, I promise. Look, do you think we could meet somewhere?”
Silence.
“Umm…there’s a diner? Dottie’s? It’s on––” She pauses. “Okay, good. See you then.”
Her hand that’s holding the phone to her ear drops to her side, and she gives me the thumbs up. “Looks like we’re meeting him in thirty minutes at Dottie’s.”
“Thank God. I’m starving,” D adds, rubbing his stomach dramatically. As soon as I told D that I trust Ace, he jumped on board without any questions, and I appreciate his support. Ace laughs at his antics before walking around the desk and planting a kiss against my mouth.
“It’s going to be okay,” she promises, her eyes shining with sincerity.
“And if it isn’t, am I allowed to kill him?”
Messing with the Feds is unheard of in this business. Well, unless you want to end up dead like Burlone is going to be. If everything goes according to plan.
Hesitantly, she leans forward and drops another kiss to my mouth. This one is slower. Sweeter. And so damn addictive I have to force my hands to stay at my sides when they’re begging to wrap around her tiny waist so that I can press myself against her. The tip of my tongue brushes against the seam of her mouth as I hear D clearing his throat. I’d almost forgotten he was in the room, though I don’t really give a shit. With a sigh, Ace pulls away and rests her head against my forehead. “Come on, King. Buy me some French toast, will ya?”
D interrupts. “French toast? I thought you were an eggs kind of girl?”
Looking over her shoulder at him, she shrugs. “Yeah. I guess it’s my own little tribute to G. Have you heard anything about her?”
“She’s a ghost, Ace,” he replies. “We haven’t been able to find anything.”
Her face sobers, but I press forward because she needs to know the truth.
“Your friend vanished, and we think it has something to do with Burlone. But we’ll find her. I promise.”
With a nod, a somber Ace wraps her arms around herself before I press my hand against her back and lead her to my black Audi parked in the garage. I open the passenger door and help her inside. Once she’s situated, I climb behind the steering wheel. D sits in the back, and we head to Dottie’s.
* * *
The place is exactly what I expected. Fifties diner. The smell of grease. The booths tucked along the walls. It’s…quaint. And clean. I’ve gotta give the owner some credit for keeping it in pretty decent shape, especially in a neighborhood like this. I scan the area for the man of the hour.
As soon as I see the guy sitting in one of the booths near the back of the diner, my steps almost falter.
“This is Jack? The asshole who grabbed you in my casino?” I spit angrily.
Ace has the decency to look apologetic before placing her hand on my bicep and giving it a soft squeeze.
“He’s our only shot right now to get the concrete evidence we need, King. Can you please play nice? For me?”