His Everything (Not Just Friends 2)

“Ace, stop, you’re going to kill him,” Lauren shouted.

“Listen to that bitch,” the prick sputtered out.

Something dark, deadly, and so fucking dangerous rose up in Ace. He grabbed the guy by the back of the neck, hauled him up, slamming his back up against the wall again. “If not for her asking me to stop right now I could have easily killed you, and it still wouldn’t have been enough for me to know that I gave you what you deserved.” He punched him in the side of the jaw for calling Lauren a bitch for the second time. The guy groaned, his head lolling forward.

“You fucked with a woman that I care a hell of a lot about.” Ace leaned in closer, grabbed the guy’s face, and lifted his head. “Do that again and I will kill you. Do you understand?”

The guy took a moment, but then he finally nodded.

Ace let him go, and the guy fell to the ground. Ace turned around, saw Lauren standing there, her coat and purse slung over her arm, and a hand over her mouth. Her big blue eyes were wide, and he felt like the scum of the earth. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen him like this, angry, his hatred filling him.

She lowered her hand to her side, and he saw her swallow. “Ace,” she said in a soft voice.

He felt this guilt, this massive, lingering guilt that always stayed with him, but grew even after he was done fighting. He might feel this momentary pleasure of giving and receiving pain when he fought, but the guilt that he couldn’t control himself, that he needed to fight to release his aggression, made him feel like a failure, a fucking waste of space.

She moved closer to him and looked over at the guy on the ground, groaning, trying to stand. Lauren reached out and grabbed Ace’s hand, and he let her, let her lead him away from the carnage he’d caused… the destructive force that he’d never be able to walk away from.

6

Lauren took Ace back to his place since it was closer to the bar. She hated seeing him like this, even after the numerous times she’d seen him fight, and knew that he needed this on occasion to release his pent up emotions.

They stepped into his living room, and she forcefully pushed him onto the couch. He breathed out, and let her do what she was going to do. Going into the bathroom she grabbed the few first aid items he had, a small basin, and a washrag.

Filling the basin with warm water, she grabbed the rest of the stuff and walked back to where he sat. He was leaning forward now, his elbows braced on his thighs, and his hands clenched the short strands of his hair.

She moved toward him and got on her knees in front of him. He let go of his hair and lifted his head to stare at her. “Want to tell me what caused you to go after him?” She had an idea, and assumed it was because the guy had gotten a little too aggressive with her, even if he’d backed off in the end.

Ace was fiercely protective, especially if he thought someone was messing with her when she didn’t want that. But she let him talk to her about it. If he wanted to tell her how he felt, try to work through his feelings, she was here to listen, not push.

He didn’t speak for several moments, then exhaled and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see that … again.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, and then winced as his hand went over his busted lip, like he’d forgotten it was there.

“Don’t be sorry, Ace.” She grabbed a strip of gauze and dipped it in the water. “Let me clean that.”

His anger evaporated right in front of her. It was enough to have her heart racing and her breath stalling. She dabbed the cut on his lip, swallowed harshly when she felt his gaze right on her, and her heart stopped when she looked at him and saw he was staring at her. Lauren cleared her throat and poured a little peroxide on the squares of material. The scent of the antiseptic slammed into her nose.

She was trying to focus on other things besides the scent of Ace. He had this rich and dark cologne on, that coupled with scent of the peroxide, and the sight of the blood on his mouth, had her feeling lightheaded.

For the next few minutes they stayed silent as she cleaned him up, wiped away the blood that had landed on his chin and neck, and looked at the redness that splattered onto his white shirt in droplets. He watched her as she worked on him, but she kept her focus on his cut, not making eye contact.