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Getting his elbow loose, he jammed it up into Nestor’s throat, making the man drop his gun as he sputtered, trying to catch his breath. Ace threw the man off him and reached for Nestor’s dropped gun.
The older man was obviously used to torture, though, because he recovered remarkably well, rage boiling over in his eyes as he kicked the gun away from both of them and pulled out a deadly looking knife.
He slashed out, and Ace managed to block him, but he still couldn’t get to his feet. The bullet in his leg had numbed the limb, and he was losing more blood by the second. He had to get control of this situation fast, or he was going to pass out and Nestor would get his victory.
Nestor circled, his blade in his hand. “I am going to enjoy this,” he said, not underestimating Ace this time. “I wish I had more time to make this nice and slow, but you are going to die.”
“Come on, Nestor. What are you waiting for?” Ace taunted him. “Are you really afraid of a man on the ground?”
His words did the trick. Nestor lunged at him again, and Ace pulled out his knife at the last second, thrusting it upward. Nestor’s eyes bulged out in pain and shock as Ace’s weapon made contact with his stomach.
But Nestor got the last laugh, though, as his knife sank into Ace’s already ravaged body. Darkness overtook Ace. The injuries were just too great. He heard voices in the distance, but it was all fading fast.
“Ace!” someone shouted. It sounded like Mav. Maybe he was speaking to him through his earpiece. At the moment, he didn’t know what reality was. “Hold on, brother. The ambulance is on the way.”
“Nestor?” he managed to squeak out.
“The bastard is alive, and he will pay. We have him,” Bill said. They were both there. Nestor had been captured.
Ace attempted to nod, but he couldn’t even manage that. He allowed the blackness to finally take him under. This was over. It was all over. His family was safe—Dakota was safe. That was all that mattered.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ace was having déjà vu when he awoke to the sound of hospital monitors and the smell of antiseptic. This time, though, he wasn’t worried about his safety. This time he knew his family would be there, and Dakota couldn’t be far away.
He didn’t hesitate to open his eyes. His head was pounding, but he blinked away the blurriness of his vision as he tried to focus on who was in the room with him. He was pleased when he saw his uncle Sherman, his mother, and his brothers. He wasn’t happy when he didn’t find who he truly wanted to be there.
“Where’s Dakota?” he asked.
“We’re happy to see you too,” Sherman said with a half smile.
“Where is she?” he repeated.
“She’s in the room next to you, just as grumpy as you are,” Cooper told him.
“Take me to her,” he demanded.
“You have been shot multiple times, stabbed, and you have lost a lot of blood. You shouldn’t be going anywhere,” Nick said.
“You can either help me or I’m ripping out lines again,” he threatened.
Cooper sighed as he stood up and pressed the call button. A woman came in, thankfully not the nurse he’d threatened a month earlier. Ace almost felt bad about how he’d behaved then.
“We need a wheelchair,” Cooper told the nurse.
“He can’t go anywhere,” she said.
“I’m going,” Ace told her. She looked at Ace and rolled her eyes.
“I’ve heard about you,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”
“At least your reputation is preceding you,” Maverick told him with a laugh.
The nurse returned several moments later with a wheelchair, and then Nick and Cooper helped Ace move from the bed to the contraption while the nurse moved his IV bags to the hanger on the chair. She grumbled about stupid, stubborn patients, but at least she was doing what he wanted.
“You’re all set,” she told him. Then she turned and walked from the room. Ace’s body was at least numb from whatever they’d been giving him. But the move from bed to chair had exhausted him. He was having a hard time even holding his head up.
“Take me to her
