Ace (Reckless Souls MC 2)

Shannon stands and goes to the big box of hot food she set on the counter. “Hungry? There’s no way I can eat all this food on my own.”

“I could eat,” I tell her and instinctively grab three plates from the cabinet. “The food is so you don’t have to worry when friends and family stop by to offer condolences.”

“Oh, I hadn’t even thought of that. Thank you again.”

We eat together, but both of us are a million miles away from the little bungalow that was Grace’s childhood home. The front bell rings again, and I take that as my cue to leave.

“I’ll come by in a few days with Grace’s things.”

Shannon hands me the key to Grace’s apartment, hugs me tight, and we say our goodbyes.

Instead of going home, I make my way to Angel Towers and frown at the sight of Grace’s car, parked in her visitor’s spot where I usually park rather than the numbered spot meant for tenants. It’s odd, and for some reason, I write it down in my Notes app.

Going up the elevator to Grace’s seventh-floor apartment is surreal, knowing she won’t be there to greet me with her wide grin. Grief threatens to overwhelm me as I walk down the hall toward number seven-oh-three B, knowing this is likely the last time I’ll ever set foot in this place because Grace is gone.

Gone.

I stand in front of the door and stare at the brass numbers, fighting the urge to cry again. I want to, badly, but tears won’t help me now. Instead, I stare at the key and wish there was someone to call, someone whose shoulder I can cry on, but there isn’t.

Because Grace is gone.

My hands shake too much, and I tighten my grip around the key and add it to my key fob and go back downstairs to the car. Boxes. I need boxes and tape, so I delay the inevitable by going to the nearest home store, wasting another hour.

When I return, I pull out my phone to text Ace.

I have access to Grace’s apartment. Maybe there are clues inside? Angel Towers. 703B.

I don’t wait for him to respond because a secret part of me wishes that he won’t.

And the other part wishes that he will.

Chapter Ten

Ace

I arrive at Angel Towers and look up at the towering glass building, looking ominous on the overcast day. Her message came as a surprise, one I was happy to receive because I’m still sure Grace is the key to solving her own murder. I go inside and scan the lobby for the elevators, pristine and the color of copper.

“Excuse me, sir? May I help you?”

I stare at the fifty-something man in a uniform, and he’s smiling, so I do my best to treat him respectfully.

“No. My girlfriend’s best friend just died. So she’s packing the place up.”

His expression changes to one of sympathy. “Ms. Davies? I was so sorry to hear about her untimely death, such a nice girl. Always pleasant.”

His words pique my interest. “You know her well?”

“Not much, no, but we both came from modest backgrounds, unlike most of the residents of these gleaming towers. Her mother is such a sweet lady. Always had cookies for me during the holidays. Such a shame,” he says, shaking his head.

Damn. “Yeah, it’s a tragedy, and McKenna is torn up about it.”

“Ah, McKenna. Another sweet one. Send her my best, will you?”

I nod and step inside the elevator with a sigh, pressing the elaborate button that takes me to the seventh floor. The hall is long and well-lit, the carpet not exactly matching up to the high standards of the rest of the place.

I make my way to the apartment and knock. Seconds later, McKenna appears, looking girl-next-door pretty in soft blue jeans that hug all of her curves and a fuzzy black sweater showing her meaty tits and tiny waist. Instead of those sexy but impractical high heels her sister wears, she’s in expensive-looking sneakers that seem equally impractical.

“Mark. You came.”

“You asked.”

“Technically, I didn’t,” she adds with a smile. “But I’m glad you’re here. Come in.”

I step inside and remember that I’m a gentleman, not an animal, as I drag my gaze away from her round ass.

“How are you doing, McKenna?”

She sends me a soft smile that accompanies a gentle blush on her cheeks.

“I’m getting through each day. Thanks for asking.” She shakes her head to minimize her emotions and flashes a nervous smile. “I went to check on Grace’s mother today, and it was difficult. Obviously.”

I nod because I know exactly how she feels. “It’s never easy.”

Surprise crosses her face, and she nods. “How does a mother ever get over that?”

“She doesn’t, but you know what I’ve learned? No one ever does. It doesn’t matter how long you know the person or your connection to the person who’s dead. Grief doesn’t give a shit about any of that. It lets that hurt sink into you until it’s deep in your soul, and it never goes away. It just becomes easier to manage with time.”