Page 7 of Ace of Spades
“Isn’t that how it always is with these people?” She stood. “I need a shower and a change of clothes before I meet Josh.”
Nate squashed the urge to tell her to be careful. She was more than capable of taking care of herself. And he somehow managed not to say, “You’re not hitting the streets without me there to protect you,” instead saying, “Call me when you get home.”
She smiled, too much understanding in her eyes. “Because you won’t sleep until I do?”
“I don’t have a problem sleeping.” True, except when he knew she was out on the mean streets of Miami. “I’ll just want to know if you turned anything up.”
“Ah, Nate.” She trailed her fingers over his shoulder. “You truly amuse me.”
He sat at the table after she left, alone with his thoughts, his shoulder still tingling where she’d touched him.
How many times was he going to have to tell himself she was off-limits before his brain got the message? It would help if she stopped flirting with him, stopped touching him. He snorted. Who was hekidding? Neither of those things would make a difference. He gathered up what little they had on all three victims, then flicked off the lights as he left the room.
Nate sighed. “Spider, if Fish doesn’t kill you, I will.” The little man grinned back at him as if Nate had just told him he’d get free beers for the rest of the night. He grabbed the back of Spider’s vest, hauling him out of the line of fire.
Fish was a probate, hoping to be accepted by the Dominos Motorcycle Club, and had decided to toy with Spider to impress the gang members. Once Fish was voted into the Dominos, he’d get patched.
And Spider? The idiot thought Fish liked him. The problem with Spider was that he loved Aces & Eights and its customers. Because he did, he failed to comprehend that everyone didn’t love him back. Most did, but jerks like Fish got off on toying with Spider, amusing themselves at the trusting man’s expense.
Except for Saturdays, Nate and his brothers had assigned certain nights each club could spend at Aces & Eights. Otherwise, they’d have gang fights every night of the week if they let them mix. Saturday was open to all bikers. Usually that wasn’t a problem, since on that night, the gangs were at their own clubs, so there wasn’t much mixing going on at Aces & Eights.
Spider, being gangless and something of the bar’s mascot, was there every day of the week except Sundays, and that was only because the bar was closed. Most of the clubs liked him, even rubbing his bald head for good luck before they headed out to ride.
Monday nights belonged to the Dominos, and although they weren’t the baddest of the bad, they could raise hell as good as the nextclub when it suited them. Nate pushed Spider onto a barstool next to Alex. “Keep this fool here until Fish and friends forget he exists,” he said to his baby brother.
“Spider, my man, how’s life?” Alex said, slapping Spider on his back.
For some strange reason, Alex liked Spider. Said the man amused him. Spider didn’t amuse Nate, but then few things did. As he walked away, he tried to remember the last time he’d been happy. Maybe truly never. Sure, he loved his job, loved his brothers, loved keeping the world safe from bad guys. He was satisfied with his life. Honest-to-God happiness wasn’t something he thought to wish for. Wouldn’t know it if it slapped him in the face.
He went to the opposite side of the bar and grabbed the remote to the large-screen TV. “Game’s gonna be on in a few minutes,” he said to the three bikers next to him. “A round on me if Florida State wins.”
“Hell yeah,” Dirty Dan, Nate’s least favorite customer, said.
“At least you won’t have to steal one.” He’d lost count of how many times he’d caught Dirty Dan stealing beers.
Dirty Dan smirked. “Takes all the fun out of it.”
Ass.Nate picked up the remote, turning up the volume. Minutes before the game, a news alert was scheduled to air, asking if anyone recognized their latest victim.
The station flashed a news-alert banner across the screen. “What’s going on now?” Nate said to get the three men to pay attention.
“The cops probably shot someone again,” one of the guys said.
Nate nodded. “Wouldn’t be surprised.” He hated dissing the cops, but it came with the territory.
The female anchor appeared on the screen. “The body of a murdered woman was found this morning near Tamiami Trail. The police are asking if anyone recognizes this woman to please call the number on the bottom of the screen.”
At seeing the artist rendering of their last victim, Nate said, “She looks familiar. Has she been in here before?” He watched the three men’s reactions.
“I know her.”
Nate swiveled on the barstool, his gaze landing on Spider. “Dude, really?”
“That’s Peaches. Don’t know her real name, but she’s a regular over on Seventh Avenue and Seventy-Eighth Street.”
“In Liberty City?”
Spider nodded, his gaze on the TV. “Yeah. Always at that corner. She was a nice girl.”
