Shooting Dirty (11 page)

Ace was different. He wasn’t a customer. He had a certain set of skills: observation, patience, self-control, marksmanship. She had a feeling he could put those strengths to good use in her bedroom. The thought of letting him made her flush with heat.

He wasn’t a safe choice. He’d take her places she’d never been before. His intensity excited her, but she was afraid of the pleasure she might experience under his slow, rough hands. She was afraid of not being able to drift, afraid of breaking apart.

She also might get attached to him. Addicted, even.

He wasn’t a man she could manipulate or a one-night stand she could discard. This wasn’t a casual affair. Not by a long shot. He’d already met her mother and her son, and she’d revealed her darkest secrets to him. Whatever was happening between them, it was happening fast. She didn’t know where the boundaries were, or how to set new ones. She’d have to explore and experiment, and trust him not to go too far.

Trust.
That was uncharted territory.

“Okay,” she said, cautious. “I’ll meet you. But don’t hang out in the parking lot. Either come in, or stay away until closing time.”

“I won’t come in.”

“Why not?”

He leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. “Because I want to strip you myself,” he murmured in her ear. Then he rose from the bench and strode toward his truck, leaving her shivering with anticipation.

Chapter Twelve

Ace met his daughter at the fountain, as usual.

Skye greeted him with a warm hug, her slender arms slipping around his waist. Shawnee watched from her perch on the stone bench. Her lips curved into a reluctant smile. She loved Skye with a greedy, claw-like desperation. It was clear that she resented Ace’s visits and felt threatened by him.

She
should
feel threatened. If he could take Skye away from her, he would.

Ace usually let Skye decide where to go on their visits. He was content to be pulled in any direction. They never left the casino area, because that was one of Shawnee’s conditions. Although there was more space to roam at King’s Castle, Ace had preferred The Hidden Palms, their previous residence. The Palms had fewer amenities, just two swimming pools and a playground. There was a convenience store down the street where he’d bought Skye ice cream. It was quiet and simple.

King’s Castle, on the other hand, was a sprawling tourist center. In addition to Vegas-style gaming, the complex boasted activities for the whole family, including an amusement center, shopping mall and a movie theater. Skye tended to choose the less-populated areas, like the duck pond and nature trail. Today she had a plastic bag filled with bread, indicating that she wanted to feed the ducks.

Ace smiled at her excited face. Her hair was gathered by a dark ribbon at her nape, and she wore a pale blue dress. She looked perfect, as always. He felt a twinge of annoyance at Shawnee, who would complain if Skye got dirty. Sometimes he let her take off her shoes and run along the shore at the duck pond. He’d like to see that dress splattered with mud, stained by chocolate ice cream.

“I thought we could play miniature golf today,” Ace said.

Skye shoved the bread at Shawnee, nodding her agreement.

The miniature golf course wasn’t far from the fountain, and it was in an enclosed space. Shawnee didn’t have to worry about him taking off with Skye. Even so, her brow furrowed in concern. The golf course was surrounded by a protective wall, making it impossible for her to keep an eye on them.

That was why he’d suggested it. He just wanted to get away from her prying gaze. Shawnee didn’t approve of anything he did with Skye. She hated dirt, and sign language, and ducks, and miniature golf.

She hated
him
—for his role in Courtney’s death.

Her chilly attitude bothered him. If he was more in touch with his feelings, he might even say it hurt. Not because he gave a damn about Shawnee or yearned for her forgiveness. But he cared about Skye, and he knew she could sense the tension between them. She didn’t understand why the two people she loved most were at odds with each other.

“Bill wants to see you again,” Shawnee said. She held the plastic bag of old bread with two fingers, as if it contained dog poop. “Don’t be long.”

“He can fucking wait,” Ace said.

Shawnee arched a brow at his harsh language. She seemed pleased by the slip, as if it proved his inferiority as a parent.

“Come on,” he said, offering Skye his hand.

She accepted it and they walked away together. Her grip was tighter than usual, and his heart felt heavier. He was tired of being under Shawnee’s thumb. He wasn’t looking forward to sitting down with Bill later. He also needed to deliver some information to Jester—or kill him—before he harassed Janelle again.

Everything was so fucked up.

The only bright spot in his life was Skye. And Janelle, who’d agreed to meet him tonight. She was going to let him
do things
to her.

He couldn’t wait.

He paid for two tickets to the miniature golf course and ushered Skye inside. She chose a red golf ball. He went with blue. The golf course was designed with a vaguely Egyptian theme, like the rest of the casino. There were a lot of pyramids and camels and glittery gold shit. Ace was no expert on ancient cultures, but even he could recognize bad taste.

Skye loved it. She raced from one hole to the next, delighted by every challenge. When they were finished playing, he wasn’t ready to leave her. They lounged on a metal bench near the exit, watching the other golfers.

He wished he could’ve brought Janelle.

He’d almost asked her to come, but decided not to. Shawnee might have scared her off, and he couldn’t give Bill any more leverage against him. Although Dirty Eleven had a code about violence against women, not everyone followed the rules. Especially not the president. Wild Bill did exactly what he pleased.

Buying King’s Castle had elevated Bill from underground outlaw and small business owner to desert mogul. He thought he was the fucking king of Indio, ruling the sand with a golden fist. If Bill knew about Janelle, he might try to use her to hurt Ace. Bill was a ruthless, power-hungry bastard. Ace couldn’t be too careful.

Skye made the sign that meant “okay.” Then she touched his face, tracing the worry brackets alongside his mouth.

“I’m okay,” he said, disturbed by her ability to read him. Few people could.

She shook her head. He wasn’t okay, and she knew it.

Ace sighed, raking a hand through his hair. In some ways, her inability to communicate had been a boon. He didn’t have to talk much. Their time together was quiet, peaceful, uncomplicated. But she’d become more inquisitive lately, questioning the things she didn’t understand.

“I want you to live with me,” he said. “But your grandmother wants to keep you.”

She nodded. He’d explained this to her before.
I
love you
, she signed.

I
love you
, he signed back.

I
love Grandma
.

“I know.”

Grandma...you...love?

After a short pause, he signed
no.

Her little face screwed up with concern.

He didn’t want to talk about Shawnee or the mess he was in, so he changed the subject. “I met a woman. Her name’s Janelle.”

Love...woman?

“I like her,” he said. Skye was the only person he’d ever loved, besides his own mother. “We just started seeing each other.”

Skye didn’t seem bothered by the prospect of him getting involved with a woman. She might not be aware of the difference between dating and friendship. Her sign language vocabulary was limited, so she could only ask so much. He wondered if she’d become frustrated and try to talk again. She used to babble, before Courtney died.

He told her about Jamie and the soccer game. She listened with interest, swinging her legs under the bench. Then they sat side by side, her hand in his. At the end of the visit, he took her back to Shawnee. Skye hugged him goodbye, lingering over the contact as if she thought he needed a little extra TLC.

“Bill’s in Jokers Wild,” Shawnee said when they broke apart. She clasped Skye’s hand and walked toward the café at a brisk pace. Her zebra-print blouse glimmered in the late-afternoon sunlight and her strappy silver sandals clicked on the faux-rock pavement. Black shorts clung to her perfectly toned ass.

She was still hot. He’d give her that.

If he didn’t know her, he’d probably want to fuck her. She was only in her mid-forties. She looked like Skye’s mother, rather than her grandmother. Shawnee did her best to cultivate that impression, which pissed him off. It was almost as if she was trying to erase Courtney from existence by taking her place.

Dragging his gaze away from her, he headed the opposite direction. Jokers Wild was a bar and card room inside the casino. High-stakes only. Ace had passed by a few times, but he’d never gone in. He wasn’t much of a gambler these days.

One of Wild Bill’s goons greeted him at the velvet rope. He unhooked the cordon to allow him entrance. It was Saturday, so the place would be packed later this evening. Right now business was light. Ace spotted Bill at a table in the back of the room. As he strode toward it, he was stopped by another staff member.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I need to do a security check.”

Ace glanced at Bill, realizing he’d arranged for this.

“It will only take a moment,” the employee said. He was a tall black man in a dark suit. With an elegant hand, he gestured toward a door that said Security.

Ace felt like he was being led into doom by the grim reaper. Maybe this was the end. How easy and efficient it would be for Bill to remove him from the equation. With Ace gone, Bill would never have to worry about him talking to the police, fighting him for custody of Skye or killing him.

Ace had dreamed of killing him often.

He didn’t have to go through the door. He could turn around and leave, but death would catch up with him, sooner or later. If Bill wanted to take him out, he would. Beyond seeking protection from law enforcement, there was very little Ace could do to stop him. So he squared his shoulders and walked forward, facing the possibility head-on.

The security staff member opened the door for Ace. Inside the cramped room there was a desk and two chairs. No plastic sheeting covered the floor to prevent blood spills. No other goons awaited him.

“Stand there,” the man said, closing the door. He picked up a device from the surface of the desk that looked like a black wand. Turning it on, he moved the wand over Ace’s arms and torso in a thorough sweep.

“I’m not carrying,” Ace said stiffly. He was uncomfortable with the man’s proximity in the close confines.

“I know,” he said, continuing the process.

It dawned on Ace that he was checking for
bugs
, not weapons. Wild Bill’s nephew had been a police informant. Cole “Shank” Shepherd had always been a ballsy motherfucker. Bill might have found out about the betrayal and doubled up on security measures.

The staff member declared him clean and waved him along. Ace left the tiny office, more relieved than disgruntled. It was an insult, perhaps, but he respected Bill’s caution. And it wasn’t like he’d never been searched before, under far less pleasant circumstances. He much preferred an electronic wand over his clothes to a gloved finger in his ass.

Shrugging off the bad vibes, he approached Bill’s table and sat down across from him. Bill took a sip from a crystal tumbler while Ace glanced around. Jokers Wild had been renovated since the casino changed ownership. The bar area was classier than the main floor, with studded leather furniture and gleaming wood. Ace imagined that the liquor was more expensive in here.

The waitresses were prettier, too.

One of the girls, a leggy blonde in a short skirt, approached their table. She had on a sequined top and red lipstick.

“Care for a drink?” she asked him.

His nostrils flared, and suddenly he could smell it. That bar smell. An intoxicating mixture of hops, barley and good whisky.

“It’s on me,” Bill said.

The blonde smiled invitingly. He could see himself throwing back a shot, or drinking one of those smooth microbrews. Flirting with this sweet young thing, who maybe wasn’t so sweet. Forgetting all his troubles.

Unfortunately, they were always there in the morning. Along with a pounding headache and an empty wallet.

“I’m good,” he said.

“I’ll bet you are.” She winked at him and sashayed off, hips swaying. Even Bill, who wasn’t much of a pussy hound, watched her go.

“Still dry?” Bill asked Ace.

He nodded. In more ways than one. “Don’t let me stop you.”

“I never do.”

Ace leaned back in his chair, waiting for Bill to speak. This meeting was important, or Bill wouldn’t have had Ace checked out first. They generally used vague terms when referring to criminal activity. Today they were going to get specific.

“Do you know why I ran you through security?”

“Because you’re paranoid?”

Bill drummed his fingertips against the table. “How long have you been friends with my nephew?”

“Twenty years.”

“Perhaps you were aware of his...divided loyalties.”

Ace didn’t admit anything. He wasn’t stupid.

“What I’m going to say next can’t be repeated, under any circumstances.”

“Understood.”

“Around the time Shank was released from prison, I found out that Shawnee had screwed around on me, years ago. You might already know this story.”

Fuck. Ace did know the story. Shawnee had slept with Shank when he was a teenager. Although the two of them weren’t related by blood, she’d been his legal guardian at the time. It was screwed up on so many levels.

“I’m guessing he confided in you, and you’ve been smart enough to stay quiet. You’ll continue to stay quiet. I don’t want to hear his name in my presence ever again. We buried his cut behind the clubhouse. He’s dead to me. As dead as Roach.”

Ace was stunned by the news. He hadn’t heard that they’d buried Shank’s cut. Rylan “Roach” Shepherd was Shank’s brother, another casualty from that kidnapping job. He’d been stabbed by his own knife. Ace felt a dull ache in his ribs at the thought. He’d met both brothers when they were kids in Slab City.

“Where is Shank?” Ace asked.

“Doesn’t matter. He’s gone.”

Ace wondered if Shank was literally dead, as well as symbolically.

“My nephews are both gone, and so is Courtney. I don’t have any family, other than my no-account brother. There’s only Skye, and you.”

“Me?”

“I need someone to run security for the casino. I offered Shank the job, despite our differences. Obviously he didn’t take it. I want to keep this business in the family, but I can’t have a strong club presence here. If you learn how to manage the place, I’ll give you a percentage of the profits, and you can help protect Skye’s legacy.”

Ace crossed his arms over his chest, trying to process the information. Skye’s legacy. He’d never seen this coming. Bill was making Skye his heir, and King’s Castle was worth a small fortune.

“You can live here and see her as often as you like.”

“Why would you want me here?”

“I don’t,” he said bluntly. “I hate what you did to my daughter. But who else is there? You’re loyal, tight-lipped and you’ve been a decent father to Skye. You won’t jeopardize her inheritance.”

“What about Shawnee?”

“If she becomes a problem, we’ll deal with it.”