The Aces MC Complete Collection

  It was also more comforting than I would have ever admitted that she’d set a rule, even if it was as small as taking the Lord’s name in vain. Her punishment had been swift and effective, and I knew in the future exactly what would happen if I slipped and said it again. It wasn’t as if the flick had even hurt that badly, but it had gotten Peg’s point across. The thought of disappointing her or making her angry was enough of a deterrent to keep my language clean when I was near her—the flick was more of a reminder.

  My chest felt light as she nodded to prod me along.

  “Well, I was born in Cheyenne, Wyoming of all places…”

  ***

  After that first week, Peg and I settled into an easy routine. I stopped by nearly every day after school, and she was always waiting for me on her front stoop as I made my way home. She became the first truly comforting person I’d ever had in my life, and before long, I couldn’t imagine my world without her in it.

  We didn’t talk about what was happening at my house; I refused to bring it up and she was too understanding to mention it, but I noticed the way she watched me more closely after one of my parents’ visitors came.

  But I didn’t use her key.

  It felt too much like taking advantage of her at first, and after that I was too afraid that she’d worry if she knew how bad it was getting. She must have noticed the women—and now men—traipsing in and out of our house at all hours of the night, but she never said a word and I didn’t either.

  It wasn’t until two months later that I finally broke down, running barefoot to her house at two in the morning.

  “Are ye okay, lovey?” she asked urgently, pulling me inside the house before I’d even grabbed the key from the string around my neck. She must have been watching for me.

  That night, my parents had two visitors. From the different pitches of their voices, I’d guessed it was both a man and a woman, which wasn’t out of the ordinary. However, as I’d sat against the side of my bed, my fingers in my ears and a book resting on my knees, I’d noticed movement out of the corner of my eye. Then I’d watched in horror as my doorknob turned slowly and silently.

  If it hadn’t been for the small slide-lock I’d picked up at the little hardware store down the street and installed myself, whoever was trying to sneak into my room would have succeeded. I’d stared frozen until the knob stopped turning, then hopped to my feet and practically dove out my window to safety and Peg.

  “I’m okay. I’m okay.” I repeated a few times, trying to convince us both. “I just got freaked out. I should go back. I overreacted.”

  “Absolutely not!” Peg shrieked. “Ye’ll not go anywhere tonight.”

  I was still so shell-shocked, I just watched silently as she locked the front door and grabbed my hand.

  “Ye can sleep in the second bedroom.”

  “But my parents…”

  “They’ll not know a thing unless ye want them to,” she assured me, pulling a cord above her head to turn on the light in the small room. “I’ll wake ye when I go to work and ye can slip back in yer room.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Don’t ye argue with me!” Peg scolded, flitting around the room to find sheets and a quilt for the bed. “Ye’ll just stay right here tonight, where I know yer safe.”

  “I probably overreacted,” I repeated as she held the blanket and sheet up so I could slip inside. “It wasn’t a huge deal.”

  “I don’t care if ye were imaginin’ green monsters. Somethin’ spooked ye, and I’ll finally get some sleep tonight if I know yer safe under my own roof.” She leaned down to kiss my forehead, something I never remembered my mother doing, and stood back up to turn off the light.

  “Sleep, my girl.”

  I fell asleep easily that night, the smell of Peg’s house and the softness of the bedding and mattress comforting me like nothing had ever done before. She woke me like she’d said she would the next morning as she left for work, which gave me plenty of time to sneak back in my window before it was time to get ready for school. After that night, a pattern was established.

  The next time we had visitors, I didn’t wait before racing to Peg’s house to climb inside the soft bed I’d come to love and listen to the most important parental influence I’d ever have snore softly in the next room. It didn’t happen every night, or even every week, but every time my parents paid for a prostitute to visit our house, I went to Peg’s. And every time, she met me at the door.

  I never even had to use the key she’d given me in the months that followed; she always waited up to let me in.

  Chapter 3

  Amy

  “Whoa! Who de fuck are ye?”

  The voice coming from the edge of the bed startled me awake, and as soon as my eyes opened, I froze in terror. The man’s face was shadowed as he leaned over me, and I couldn’t even take a deep breath to scream before the light in the spare bedroom flicked on.

  “Patrick! Stop scarin’ the poor girl and get away from the bed!” Peg scolded, immediately calming me. Oh, good. Patrick. I knew that name. Peg talked about her son all the time.

  I turned to give Peg a small grateful smile, but jerked my eyes back to the man when he kicked the side of the mattress.

  “Who de hell is dis? Ye takin’ in strays now, Mum?” he asked angrily, looking me over with a scowl. Damn, his accent was so thick it took me a second to realize what he was saying… and then I was pissed.

  “Fuck off!” I snapped.

  “Patrick!” Peg scolded at the same time.

  “Ah, she speaks?” he replied sarcastically, scowling at me.

  I glared back silently, unwilling to get into an argument with the prodigal son. I knew I was the interloper, and I was instantly terrified that his presence would ruin the safety I’d found with Peg. Even if he was being a jackass, he was her son and I was just the pitiful neighbor girl whose parents were too occupied with prostitutes and drugs to realize I was gone.

  “Patrick Gallagher, this is my house and if ye don’t stop glarin’ at that girl, I’m goin’ to beat ye bloody!” Peg hissed, surprising us both.

  “What de hell, Mum?”

  “Out!”

  He didn’t glance at me again, but threw his arms in the air, causing me to flinch back as he stormed out the door. What a dick.

  “Ye alright? He didn’t scare ye, did he?” Peg asked after he was gone from the room.

  “Uh, a little.” I laughed nervously. Was this when she’d tell me to leave? Shit.

  “Ignore him. My boy’s all bluster. Ye’ve got school in four hours. Try and get some more sleep, eh?”

  My jaw dropped as she turned off the light and pulled the door mostly closed. Had she really just told me to go back to sleep? How the hell was I supposed to do that? And why hadn’t she asked me to leave?

  I sunk back down against the bumpy mattress and pulled the blankets to my chin as my mind circled around and around, going over what happened. I could hear their quiet voices in the kitchen while Peg banged pots and pans, but I didn’t even try to listen to what they were saying.

  I was too busy trying to ignore the flutter in my belly as I remembered Patrick’s sharp jaw and full lips as he’d sneered at me. His cheeks had been flushed with anger, but I almost hadn’t noticed because I’d been to busy tracing the freckles across his face. Dear God. Freckles. He was an asshole, clearly, but he was the most handsome one I’d ever seen.

  ***

  I must have fallen back asleep at some point, because when I finally woke up the next morning, I could tell by the way the sun was shining through the window that I was really late for school. Peg always woke me up as she left for work so I could head back home to shower, but I wasn’t really surprised she’d forgotten. She hadn’t seen her son in months, and I was sure after the initial scene she’d been over the moon that he was home for a visit. She talked about Patrick all the time, and I knew she missed him like crazy while he was gone.

  I slipped my feet into my sandals as I
pulled my hair back into a ponytail. God, I hated mornings. I was dragging ass as I made the bed, fluffing the softest feather pillow I’d ever felt and smoothing down the patched-up quilt. I tried not to leave any messes while I was at Peg’s. She worked really hard, usually exhausted by the time she got home in the afternoon, and I never wanted to make things harder for her. She claimed my presence in her life was God’s blessing, and I didn’t want her to change her stance on that by forcing her to clean up after me. A few minutes later, I was shuffling blearily into the living room.

  “Mornin’.”

  I stumbled to a stop outside the bedroom, my eyes growing wide as I caught sight of Patrick’s muscular bare chest and sleep-tousled hair.

  Freckles on his chest.

  Dear God, he had freckles on his chest.

  “Me mum’s at de shop.”

  My gaze dropped to the cup of coffee he was holding, his long fingers wrapped completely around the mug, and I swallowed nervously. I needed to get out of there before I had some sort of episode that ended with me passing out or peeing myself. “Okay,” I mumbled, moving around him toward the door.

  “Hey, Amy, right?”

  My head snapped up in surprise. Why was he still talking to me?

  “Sorry about dis mornin’. I haven’t been home as much as I should, and de guilt of dat mixed wit’ surprise at findin’ a woman in me bed, well, I t’ought maybe ye were takin’ advantage of me ma’s good nature. Stupid, yeah? De woman’s no fool.” He said the last words on a smile, shaking his head. “Forgive me?”

  “Yeah, okay,” I answered quickly before he could take back the apology.

  He’d been a complete asshole, but I couldn’t really fault him for it. If I had a mom as sweet as Peg, I’d be hell-bent on keeping leeches away from her, too. Plus, I wasn’t sure how long he would be there, and I was terrified if we didn’t work out some sort of ceasefire I’d be stuck at the house with my parents for his entire visit.

  “I better get home,” I said with a nod, moving toward the front door again.

  “Mum said ye were supposed to be in school today. Yer parents won’t be angry yer not dere?”

  After taking a moment to decipher his quickly spoken words, I realized he’d asked the same question that had been rattling around in my head since I’d woken up to sunlight through the window. “I can handle it.”

  “Ye don’t go home until later, dey won’t know right?”

  Why the hell was the absence of the ‘th’ sound in his words so freaking hot? I’d been hearing it that way for months already. It’s not like it was anything new.

  “Uh…”

  “Ye can stay here if ye want.”

  My jaw dropped, and he blushed when he saw my reaction to his words.

  “Fuck, girl. I’m not tryin’ to get in yer knickers. Just t’ought I’d help ye out. I’m too old for ye.”

  Did that mean if I were older, he would be trying to get in my pants? Wait, how did the conversation morph into getting in my pants? My palms began to sweat as he pushed himself off the sofa.

  “Who—” my words stuttered as he stepped forward and we were suddenly very close to each other. “Who said I’d even want you?”

  “Beautiful, might wanna look at me face if yer tryin’ to convince me o’dat. Been starin’ at me chest since ye walked out of me bedroom and yer voice has gone a bit…ragged.” His cheeks dimpled, and he winked before stepping around me.

  “Your bedroom?” My voice sounded strangled as I twisted to watch him walk away.

  “Since I was a wean,” he answered with a chuckle. “I’m havin’ a shower. Yer here when I get out, we’ll find somet’in’ to do today.”

  The bathroom door closed behind him as I stood frozen. I’d been sleeping in his bed? Oh, my God. No wonder he’d walked right in.

  I fell to the couch with a huff and dropped my face into my hands. I’d been sleeping in his bed more often than not for the last two months. Oh, shit! Had I been drooling on his pillow? And most importantly, if he was staying, did that mean I had to stay at my house?

  It wasn’t as if I could ask him to sleep on the couch so I could take his room. He wouldn’t even fit on the damn couch. Not only was he too long, but I swear his muscles had muscles, and he was too broad for Peg’s miniature sofa.

  I whipped my hands away from my face in frustration and, to my horror, they were immediately tickled by little hairs. Oh, no. I reached up, fanning them next to my face and could have cried when I felt more hair brushing my palms. Shit! I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail, but I hadn’t even thought to tame the flyaways near my face. Normally I didn’t run into anyone before I’d had a shower. How could I have known he was lying in wait?

  I knew what I would see if I looked in a mirror: a freaking horror show of dark fuzz curling slightly toward the ceiling like devil horns.

  No wonder he didn’t want to get in my “knickers.” I looked like an idiot.

  The bathroom door squeaked. “Don’t leave, yeah?” he called quietly from the cracked door, making me shoot a startled look in his direction.

  “Patrick…” I hedged, forcing my hands into my lap so I wouldn’t try to brush at the flyaways and draw even more attention to them.

  “Mates call me Trick,” he replied with another wink.

  When he closed the bathroom door again, I bolted off the couch and sprinted toward the front door. If I didn’t leave before he finished showering, I had a feeling I’d be just another girl who lost all common sense at the sight of Patrick Gallagher’s smile.

  It was one thing to find him incredibly hot, but it was quite another to actually spend time with him… especially when I looked like crap.

  Chapter 4

  Amy

  I was kidding myself if I thought I could avoid Patrick while he was staying at his mom’s.

  I hadn’t been caught that morning. My mom had left a note saying that she’d gone to my room, but my door had been locked so she assumed I was sleeping and had left me be. Apparently, her and my dad would be gone for dinner so I had to ‘fend for myself.’ Like I hadn’t been doing that every night since I was ten.

  I spent most of the day working on homework that I’d neglected the night before, and trying to forge some sort of excuse for my absence from school. It was a Friday, so thankfully I wouldn’t have to deal with the Sisters for a few days. Hopefully, I’d be able to legibly forge my mother’s signature by Monday.

  At three that afternoon while I was reading on my bed, I almost pissed my pants when someone began knocking loudly on my window. When I turned toward it, I found Patrick Gallagher’s smiling face so close it was almost pressing up against the glass. Holy shit.

  “What are you doing here?” I hissed, sliding the warped window open.

  “Mum wanted me to come get ye. She t'inks yer angry about dis mornin’ since ye didn’t come for tea.”

  “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.” I stepped away from the window to grab a pair of shoes and my favorite sweatshirt. “ I’ll be right out!”

  He disappeared from the window and I wrapped my hair in a knot at my neck before pushing one of my legs though the opening, then ducking and twisting to get the rest of my body through.

  “What de fuck are ye doin’?”

  My head flew up and knocked the windowsill hard in surprise.

  “I told you I’d be right out!” I sniped, hopping down into the grass before rubbing the small knot on the crown of my head.

  “Forgive me for assumin’ ye’d go out de front door like a normal person.”

  “You’re forgiven.”

  I refused to look directly at him as I walked past, too embarrassed to meet his eyes and totally annoyed that he’d surprised me twice. I wished he would just leave already so I could go back to my relatively safe and normal life. Before I’d reached the end of the house, my arm was grabbed firmly and I was swung around to face him.

  “Is dere a reason ye don’t care for me, or do ye generally hate all m
en?” His face was close enough to mine that I could taste the mint on his breath, and for a moment I was afraid I’d hyperventilate and swoon like a blushing maiden from one of my romance novels.

  “I-I don’t dislike you,” I stuttered back, my heart thumping hard. “I don’t even know you.”

  His grip suddenly softened and though I could’ve pulled away, I wasn’t able to actually make myself do it. He was staring at me, cataloguing each of my features with his eyes, and I was frozen.

  “Ye disappeared dis mornin’.”

  “I had stuff to do at home.”

  “Ye always take a shower and den read all day instead of spendin’ time wit’ a new friend?”

  “Were you spying on me?”

  He laughed, squeezing my bicep before turning me and wrapping his arm companionably around my shoulders as he began to usher me toward Peg’s.

  “Didn’t have to spy—just guessed. I know de type. By yer reaction, I’ll bet I was correct.” He let go of my shoulders and dropped his hand to my lower back to guide me up Peg’s front stairs.

  “What type?” I asked, trying to focus on the conversation as his hand slid a little lower.

  “Me type,” he whispered as we walked in the front door.

  Peg chose that moment to come rushing out of the kitchen, a small towel hanging over her shoulder. “Amy! Ach, I’m so sorry I forgot to wake ye this mornin’!”

  “That’s okay,” I reassured her as Patrick moved around me to drop onto the sofa. “I was really tired, anyway.”

  “Well, come in and get yer snack, even though ye didn’t spend yer day at school. I made yer favorite!”

  “How was work?” I asked as I followed Peg out of the small living room. “You look tired.”