Ace is bad.
Very bad.
After losing my brother, I know I should stay away. So why
can’t I?
He’s irresistible. He’s confident. He’s amazing… but he’s
dangerous.
He was there the night my brother was murdered. He watched
it all go down.
I should stay away. The things I saw weren’t
acceptable.
I should want Ace as far away from me as possible—I should
consider him a monster and a threat—but when my life is at stake I know I no
longer have a choice of the matter. He's the only one that can protect
me.
He's done what he can to keep me out of danger, but it's not
enough. I need answers. I need the truth. He refuses to give it to me, and
because of that I don't trust him. He refuses to tell me what really happened
and to just forget about it but I refuse.
I won’t back down until I get answers.
But there’s one thing wrong with getting too many answers.
It leads to lies. It leads to trouble. It leads to danger. But worst of all, it
leads to me falling deeply and madly in love with him.
I’ve gotta be out of my mind.
London Stallone hasn’t always had the perfect life, but she
did have the perfect older brother. He did everything for her. He took care of
her when no one else would. He’s always been the shoulder she could lean on,
but when he ends up murdered, things turn for the worst.
London soon demands answers, and the first person she runs
to is her brother’s co-worker and good friend, Donovan “Ace” Crow. Ace isn’t
the ordinary guy. He doesn’t come equipped with flowers and chocolate. He
doesn’t hand out smiles and hugs to every female he meets. He’s strict and only
about business, and London believes he’s a part of the reason her brother was
murdered.
Soon, after finding out life-threatening news, it leads to
something Ace never thought he’d have to do for anyone.
Protect her.
Although he doesn't want her to get hurt, it doesn't stop
him from being selfish or bitter. He's promised to protect her, but has he done
enough? Has he sacrificed everything in order to keep London out of harms
way?
Sometimes love can get in the way of your priorities. And
sometimes love can easily become your enemy—you worst nightmare. It can destroy
you.
This is a story full of dishonesty. Disloyalty. Broken
hearts. Pain. Suffering. Lies. Destruction. This isn’t a fairytale love story.
This is real. And it just might break you.
You’ve been warned…
BEWARE!
Footsteps start up the complex stairs. They’re heavy. Slow.
I try to control my breathing, but it’s nearly impossible. I’m terrified. My
heart is pounding in my chest. The room that was once my sanctuary – my
getaway—now feels like a trap. A prison. I can hardly breathe.
Sealing my eyes, I listen as his footsteps get closer to my
door until finally he stops. It’s quiet for a moment. I think he’s got his ear
to the door, hoping to hear something.
Then, he bangs on it, and I gasp. I don’t get up though. He
can’t get in. The door is locked, and the chain is on. I don’t think he’d be
dumb enough to kick the door in, knowing I have neighbors. Good thing they’re
nosey. They’ll come looking for the noise immediately just to
complain.
“London, I know you’re in there! Car’s in the parking lot.”
His voice is no longer calm and casual. It’s angry and demanding. “Open the
door.”
I don’t say anything, but I do stand and hold the knife in
front of me just in case. I slowly walk out of my bedroom and towards the
living room.
“Open it or I’ll kick it down. I don’t give a fuck who sees
me.”
I gulp and gasp at the same time, producing an unexpected
and very loud burp. It’s certainly loud enough for Ace to hear.
Instantly, the door swings open and hits the wall with a
forceful thud. I scream as I fall on my side. When I look up, Ace is standing
between the frames of the door, adjusting his tie. All I can make out is his
shadow, but I can feel his eyes hard on me.
Stepping inside, he coolly shuts the door behind him. I
scramble away with the knife in my hand. When I get to my feet, I dash for my
bedroom and grab the telephone. He chases after me, warning me not to do
anything stupid.
I dial 9, but I’m not given the chance to finish. He
snatches the phone out of my hand and slams it down. I spin around, bringing
the butcher knife in front of me again. Ace takes a quick step back, glaring
down at the sharp blade piercing the darkness. Then, a slow smirk forms on his
lips, the lips I hate that I once admired.
“I’ll cut you,” I threaten.
“You won’t,” he says boldly.
“I won’t?” I hiss, bringing the edge of the blade to his
neck. “Don’t test me. I will.”
He raises his hands in the air, shaking his head. “When’s
the last time you sharpened this thing, huh? Three years ago? It’s as dull as a
fucking nun.”
“I don’t give a shit! I can still cut you with it! Just… sit
down!” I demand, circling him, knife still clutched in my hands and at his
neck. “On the bed.”
He frowns. “No.”
“I don’t wanna hurt you, but if I have to I will!” I shout,
voice wavering.
“That’s the thing… you won’t.” His tone is even.
I keep my tears back and my emotions behind me for now. I
don’t want him to think I’m weak. I don’t want him to get away either. But deep
inside, I know I won’t hurt him. I won’t cut him. I’m too afraid to shed blood
after seeing so much already.
With a bored sigh, Ace snatches the knife out of my hand and
tosses it out of my bedroom. It skids across the hard, wooden floorboards,
causing a clanking noise that makes my ears ring. I gasp and scramble after it,
but he grabs my arm and shoves me against the nearest wall. It’s not a hard shove.
Nor does it hurt. But I’m still afraid.
As I tremble, he brings one of his large hands up and locks
my face between his fingers. His eyes stare deeply into mine, and his nostrils
flare. From the slit of light filtering in through my window, he looks pissed.
I know he’s going to kill me. I’m a witness.
“Listen to me,” he grumbles. His warm breath spills down my
chest, across my cleavage. “I told you I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Why wouldn’t you?” I breathe, voice shaky.
“I won’t. I’m not the one that killed Jonah. They did.”
Hearing Jonah’s name causes fiery tears to build in my eyes.
“It’s your fault. I know it. Why wouldn’t they kill you,
too?” I ask. “What were you doing there anyway? Why was Jonah there? Why did
they kill him?” All of this is spilling out of me. I’m outraged. I’m pissed
that Ace is still alive and my brother isn’t. I’m terrified. I’m… I’m a
mess.
“Listen to me!” he demands, releasing my face to lock his
hands on my shoulders. “I don’t know why they killed Jonah, alright? I don’t
know why they didn’t kill me. But you have to understand… it’s what we do. It’s
what Jonah signed up for. It’s business, and we can’t help when shit gets
bloody.”
I process his words, giving them some thought. “So… you’re
the one that got him into that shit? What is it? What’d you promise him? I know
Jonah, and I know he wouldn’t do something this bad without getting something
in exchange.”
“I didn’t promise him shit.” Ace runs one hand through his
slick hair. “He knew what he was getting into. He was money-hungry, just like
everyone else. It was a mistake… him coming to Atlanta.”
“How was that a mistake?” I demand. “I invited him. I
graduated!”
Ace tilts his chin to meet my eyes. His are dark, and if I’m
not mistaken, watery. I’m not given the chance to figure it out completely
because he blinks, and just like that, he’s angry again. “Don’t go to the cops.
It’ll only get you killed.”
And with that, he releases me and walks out of my bedroom. I
follow after him, grabbing his arm before he can get out the front door.
“Killed by who? You?” I’m keeping my voice steady, but deep inside, I’m scared
out of my fucking mind.
Ace stares at me briefly. He then slides his fingers into
his front pockets, turns his back to me, and walks out my splintered front door.
New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author
Shanora Williams considers herself a wondrous, down-to-earth author who's all
about romance, paranormal, and the historical fiction. Coffee and Oreos are her
addiction. Reading is a necessity. Whenever she isn't writing or reading, she's
most likely spending her time with family and loved ones, or watching hit TV
series on Netflix.
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