Page 75 of Until Ace

“Mandy,” I prompt for the third and final time, about to lose my patience.

“What?” she asks again in a harsh tone. She stands straighter. Her hands are balled into fists, shaking a little, her shoulders tense, and she touches that sweet tongue of hers to her upper lip.

She’s ready for a fight.

“Get your ass in the house, baby.” I jerk my head toward the front steps.

Neither of us moves for a second.

Tightening my hold on the last threads of patience I have left, I wait her out.

When she starts walking, I follow her with my eyes. Mandy doesn’t spare me a glance as she strides past me, and she doesn’t look back at the men who brought her to me. Her head held high, her face a mask of ice, she walks like she’s on a goddamned catwalk, doing a fashion show, and once inside, she slams the door behind her.

I look back to the men, both of their eyes on the door, and both with grins on their faces.

“Thanks, brother,” I say and turn to follow my woman.

“Hope it doesn’t come to it again, but any time,” Cobi says.

I make my way up the steps slowly, practicing deep breathing on my way, trying to keep my shit together as I walk into the house.

It’s dark inside, and Mandy is standing in front of the living room window, looking out at the trees that are nothing more than dark shadows at this time of night.

"What were you thinking, going in there and asking to see Gorskiy like that?" I push the words out with forced calmness.

"I wanted to talk to him," Mandy says to the window, not turning and definitely not looking at me.

"And what would you have said, hm?" I ask, sarcasm slipping into my tone.

She turns to me then, her hands falling from where she’d been clutching them in front of her chest, her body going still.

She looks at me for several beats before she opens her mouth.

I put one hand up, stopping her before she can get a word out. I don’t want to hear whatever nonsense she’s about to spout.

She’s lucky Nico was there tonight.

She’s so fucking lucky he got to her first.

She was clocked by every player in that club the moment she walked through the door, and she has no idea what kind of danger she put herself in.

"You're lucky my man got a hold of you first. I don't even want to think about what would have happened to you if he hadn't.”

"Your man?" she asks, her eyes sharpening.

"Yeah." I nod. “My man.”

"Let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about how some guy took me by the arm, walked me into a dark corridor, and then pushed me into the wall. He demanded to know what I was doing there, and the whole time, he held a knife against my throat, scaring the hell out of me. And then after that lovely chitchat, he put a hood over my head and handed me to another freaking guy, all to be delivered to you!” Her voice rises as she speaks, and she ends on a near shout. “So, yes, let’s talk about all that. Because that’s more important than what I was thinking tonight and why I was where I was, Ace.”

Held a knife to her throat?

Fucking hell.

“He didn’t hold a knife to your throat, baby,” I say soothingly.

“He did, Ace. I was there. I fucking know!” she yells, leaning my way.

“He didn’t, Mandy. Nico would never do that.” I’m still livid with her, but I can see the fear is starting to consume her, and I need to stop it. It’s so potent I can almost taste it.