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“I was almost fourteen, and we were all out of food. Conner was starving and Cole was always sick. I had no choice... we needed the money. So I pointed at his broken, bloody body and pulled the trigger.”
His words are like a gunshot to my heart. “Oh my God,” I breathe, fighting the tears that flow down my cheeks.
“It was a test.” Ace runs a hand down his face. “It wasn’t loaded. I passed the test and lost a piece of my soul that night.”
I scramble off the bed and crawl onto his lap. He slides his arms around my waist, burying his face into the crook of my neck. “I didn’t kill him, but I may as well have.”
Ace cups the back of my neck as he looks at me. “After that, I lost count of the number of times I might have killed someone. When you run for Donny, you quickly learn to defend yourself. I’ve never shot anyone point-blank, but I’ve put a few bullets through guys. Same with my knife. When it’s them or you... you do what you gotta do.”
I inhale a shuddering breath. “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t realize...”
“Still not going to run, Princess?”
“That depends on your answer to my next question. Why do you hate James so much?”
A wall slams down over his expression, but I grip his jaw, ghosting my lips over his. I’m not playing fair, but then Ace has never had a problem playing dirty, either.
“When I was eight, my dad died. At least, that’s what she told us. I never saw the body. One day he was there, and the next he wasn’t. We didn’t have a burial. Mom said we couldn’t afford it. So we went down to the park and stood in front of our favorite tree and said a few words. I was so fucking angry at the world for taking him. I mean, he was my dad.
“I was surprised when Uncle James showed up a few days later. He’d never been around much when we were kids. He and Dad shared a lot of bad blood, and it was no secret my dad was the black sheep of the family. I can’t remember much, but I remember him bringing this sack of shiny new toys. Cole and Conner were so excited, but I didn’t want his crap. I wanted my dad back.”
Ace’s body trembles and I hold him closer, letting my fingers trail up and down his arm. “They argued. I can’t remember what about, but Mom was crying and told him to go. We never saw him again after that. Mom tried to keep it together, but things went to shit pretty quickly. She was drinking more, snorting fuck knows what to get high, and then when she ran out of liquor and drugs, she’d invite guys over and turn tricks for her next hit.
“I had so mu
ch anger and hatred burning inside me. I hated my dad for leaving us. Mom for not doing right by us. And I hated Uncle James for discarding us like we were nothing but trash.”
“What happened then?” I ask when he goes quiet. He’s lost in his thoughts. “Ace, come back to me,” I whisper.
He blinks, startled. “By the time I was fourteen, I knew something had to change. We couldn’t rely on Mom for shit, and I wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore. So I asked Donny for a job. And things were okay. I mean, we weren’t living the high life or anything, but I kept food on the table and had enough to buy Cole and Conner supplies for school. I made sure they did their homework and didn’t act like little punks.”
“You’re a good brother, Ace.” I’ve told him before, but he should hear it more often. The sacrifices he made, although heart-wrenching, are a testament to his character. To how deeply he cares for his brothers.
“Yeah, well, it all went to shit.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “Right before we moved here, before Mom...” He chokes over her name. “I saw a ghost.”
Confusion pinches my brows, and he gives me a sad smile. “My whole life has been a fucking lie.”
“What do you mean?” He isn’t making any sense.
“Charlie Jagger isn’t dead.”
“Charlie? That’s your dad’s name?” He nods. “But how can he not be dead?”
“That’s the first fucking thing I thought when I saw him standing there. I recognized him straight away. Same eyes, same slightly crooked nose.”
“You saw him?” I sound like a parrot, but nothing adds up. Instead of getting answers, I feel like the puzzle is becoming more and more complicated.
“Yeah, I fucking saw him,” he hisses. “And I found out what a real piece of work Charlie Jagger is. Turns out he didn’t die... my uncle paid to have him killed.”
The air whooshes from my lungs as I gasp. “No.”
“Yes, he made sure it was his parting words after he stole the money I’d been saving. But that’s not all.” Pain glitters in Ace’s eyes, so intense I feel it rolling off of him. “He said he was never my dad to begin with.”
Chapter Eight
Ace
As I say those words, it’s like an actual weight is being lifted from my shoulders. I’ve been carrying those secrets around for too long.
