Page 48 of Ace of Spades

“Where are you?” I ask again, this time with more bite.

“I’m at Matt’s place,” she finally admits.

I bristle at the mention of that asshole’s name.

“So your using?”

I grab my keys and forgo the coat. The heat rising up in me coming from the anger boiling inside is enough to keep me warm. I march down the stairs, startling Carter and his guest that were just making out on the couch.

“It’s not like that,” Evie says.

“If you’re with Matt, then I can only assume it’s like that. I’m coming now.”

I don’t bother answering Carter when he asks me where I’m going. I can only think of one thing.

“It’s fine, Levi. You don’t need to come all the way—”

“Bye, Evie.”

I hang up the phone and turn the ignition on, my truck roars to life on the quiet neighborhood street.

Six fucking years since this woman left me. And I’m still having to rescue her.

Though now, it’s not even about Evie.

It’s not about her fight with addiction. It’s not even about saving her from herself.

Now, it’s about a four year old girl who doesn’t deserve to be in the middle of all of this mess.

Josie deserves so much better. And the fact that her own mother can’t see that, is so disheartening.

If I could, I’d adopt her.

Carter and Theo would be fine. Hell, Theo’s not even around anymore to care if there’s another person living in the house. Especially since Josieishis half-sister.

An hour later, after a drive across town the pass that helped my boiling anger settle down to a low simmer, I’m banging on Matt Wallis’ door.

The disheveled dumbass opens the door. He’s still wearing his work clothes from the docks and I push my way in without saying a word.

“Hey, this is private property, Steele. You can’t just force your way in,” he says, slurring his words.

He follows me down the hall as I search room by room looking for the little girl.

“I can call the cops on you, you know that!”

I turn on him, grabbing him by the shirt and pushing him up the wall.

“Where the hell is Josie?”

He cowers, putting up his hands to protect his face. He smells like whiskey and cigarettes. It’s guys like him that made me want to give up both.

“She’s up here,” a faint voice says from the top of the stairs.

I let the man go abruptly and take the steps two at a time.

Evie waits for me, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that barely covers her thighs. Her hair looks like she hasn’t washed it in a week, and small pieces are covering her eyes. Like she doesn’t want to be seen.

“She’s fine, Levi. She finally fell asleep,” she says, stopping me from entering the room.

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