The Brotherhood Saga Part: 1 - Book: 2 Ace of Spades
Author
Jassy Doe
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19.7K
Chapters
38
The second book in the Mc No Limits series.
Book Two: Ace of Spades After rescuing the women from human traffickers, Ace gets the opportunity to help a victim. The young woman he rescued appears to be in great distress and potentially valuable to the club. Without knowing, he decided to help her when she ran out of hope.
Chapter 1: The Vigil
ACE
The cherry of my cigarette glowed in the deepening twilight as I leaned against my bike, the familiar weight of the safe house at my back. For weeks, it had been my post.
The door creaked open across the street, and my brother, King, emerged from Storm’s tattoo shop, his arm slung around his ol’ lady, Ivy. They shared a quick, hard hug before crossing the road toward me.
“How is she?” Ivy’s voice was soft, her gaze drifting to the single lit window.
I took a final drag and crushed the cigarette under my boot. “Same. Absolutely nothing.”
“Is Mom still with her?” King’s question was low, his eyes searching mine.
I nodded, running a hand through my already messy hair. “She wanted to be alone. That’s why Alice left. I think Mom might be able to get through to her.”
He grunted in agreement, his worried eyes scanning my face. “You should get some sleep. You look like hell.”
“Sure.” The word was empty.
They moved off toward their own place, a united front. I watched them go, a hollow feeling in my chest.
Aidan had found his match in Ivy. She was fire and strength, sliding into our chaotic world like she was born for it. When he’d named her his ol’ lady, I knew he’d found his forever. He deserved that kind of peace.
She, along with Alice and my mom, had taken the new woman under their wing. Their mission was simple: make her feel safe.
Perhaps then they would discover her name, and Tom, our club’s investigator, could ascertain whether she was the woman he was looking for… or a peril to our community.
I saw the relentless kindness in their eyes, the gentle words, the endless patience. But from where I stood, seeing the ghost in that upstairs window, I knew it was a steep climb.
The memory of finding her was a fresh brand on my mind. During the raid on the traffickers, King and I were the ones to breach that final door.
Ivy’s aunt, her face streaked with tears, had pointed a trembling finger to the corner. The air in that room was thick with the smell of blood and despair. She was kneeling, her thin body suspended by a cord tied to her wrists above her head.
She hung limply, her dark hair a curtain over her face, wearing nothing but a torn shirt and her underwear. My knife made a sharp sound as I severed the rope.
She collapsed into my arms, a featherweight. That’s when I saw her back through the shredded fabric—a brutal canvas of open welts and dried blood from a whip. “Fucking shit,” I breathed, the words louder than intended.
A low moan escaped her as I adjusted my hold, careful to avoid her wounds. Her head lolled back, and that curtain of hair parted. Her eyes found mine. It wasn’t the unusual amber color that trapped me—it was the raw, primal fear staring back. A bottomless terror that made my blood run cold.
“You’re safe. We’re from the FBI,” I said, hoping the lie would offer some comfort.
She only whimpered, shrinking away from the black balaclava that hid my face. The mask was a necessity, but in that moment, it felt like another instrument of her torment.
I carried her out to the idling SUV, where Ink and Gears were already waiting. King was right behind me with Ivy’s aunt. “We need to go. Go!” he barked.
I laid her in the back seat, wrapping a coarse blanket around her shivering frame. She drifted in and out of consciousness during the drive, her eyes fluttering open a few times. Each time, I braced myself for questions, for panic. But none came.
She just clutched the blanket tighter, her silence louder than any scream.
When we pulled into the compound, the clinic was a beacon of organized chaos. Mom and Alice were already moving, ready to receive the wounded.
I opened the car door, and her eyes locked onto mine again. She didn’t speak, but the fear was a living thing between us. “I’m taking you to the clinic. Our doctor will take care of you,” I said, my voice low.
But the sound of Ivy and her aunt sobbing and reuniting nearby made her flinch, her whole body going rigid.
I lifted her again, and she was so light I had to look down to confirm she was still in my arms. She buried her face in my chest, hiding from the world, and I saw the hot soak of her tears on my vest, tracing clean lines through the grime on her cheeks.
“Doc, she’s injured,” I told him, laying her on the treatment bed.
He nodded, pulling off his balaclava and swapping his vest for a gown. Mom assured him she and Alice had the other three women. I started to step back, but her hand shot out, her fingers clamping around my forearm with surprising strength.
Her wide, panicked eyes darted from me to Doc, taking in his tattooed arms, his size. The docile woman was gone, replaced by a cornered animal. She began to scream, a raw, terrified sound that tore at the air, thrashing against the bed.
“You need to calm down, miss. You’re just hurting yourself.” Doc tried, his voice steady, but it was like he wasn’t even there.
I moved closer, trying to soothe her, but she shook her head wildly, pushing me away. Her terrified gaze was fixed on something behind me, and I followed it just in time to see Doc press a syringe into her arm. The fight left her in a rush, her eyes rolling back as she fell limp against the pillow.
“I had to, Ace. She was tearing her back to pieces,” Doc said, his hand on my shoulder.
I just nodded, my jaw clenched so tight it ached. I was grateful she was unconscious while he worked. I stayed, handing him supplies, my stomach churning as I saw the full extent of the damage.
Cuts, cigarette burns…and her back. Doc paused, taking a deep, steadying breath before he began the meticulous process of cleaning the shredded skin.
“I have to get your mom. She still has to…” He didn’t finish, his gaze dropping to her legs before he looked away, shaking his head. “Damn it all.”
He walked out, and a cold dread settled in my gut.
Mom came in a moment later, a small, clinical kit in her hands. The rape kit. The realization hit me like a physical blow. They raped her.
The rage was a white-hot fire in my veins. I should have killed every last one of those bastards.
I left the room before the walls could close in on me.
Later, at the clubhouse bar, I downed a whisky in one burning gulp. My dad sat beside me, his presence soothing, like always. “You okay, son?”
I shook my head, unable to form words. He rested a heavy hand on my shoulder. We’d seen bad before, but never anything like this.
I spent the next day on the clubhouse steps, my eyes glued to the clinic door, her terrified eyes burned into my memory. The world moved around me—Tom collecting the other women, King touring the community with Ivy’s father—but I was stuck in that room with her.
After church, where King laid out the lockdown and the potential intelligence she represented, the air was thick with tension. I saw Ivy, Alice, and Drew talking, but I just gave a tight smile and retreated to my perch on the steps.
My mom finally emerged from the clinic, lighting a cigarette. She waved me over.
“The clinic isn’t helping her,” she said, her voice tired. “We need to move her to the safe house. I think she understands she’s safe now, but she needs peace and quiet. You can help me carry her over. Maybe introduce yourself properly this time, without the mask.” She gave me a knowing look. “You’re her savior, Ace. Maybe she won’t be so afraid of you.”
I followed Mom into the room. The woman was propped up in bed, her amber eyes tracking my every move as I entered. They traveled from my boots, up my cut, and finally settled on my face. Something in her expression shifted, the tightness around her eyes softening.
“I’m…,” I started.
“Ace,” she whispered, her voice a fragile thread of sound.
My breath caught. She knew my name. She looked down at her hands, nervously twisting the blanket.
Mom shot me a small, encouraging smile. “Ace and I will take you to your house now. Your room. Your key…remember?” Mom prompted.
“And music?” she asked, a sliver of hope in her voice.
“And music, honey. As promised,” Mom replied softly.
My throat tightened. She was so heartbreakingly fragile. When I lifted her, I narrated every move. “Okay, I’m just going to pick you up now. Easy does it.”
She stiffened, but her eyes never left mine. In the safe house, her eyes darted around, taking in the new surroundings without a word.
Mom turned down the bed, fluffing the pillows before I laid her down. “King will post men to guard the house, so don’t be scared if…,” Mom explained.
“No!” The word was a sharp, anxious burst. “No men.”
I stopped at the doorway and turned. Her gaze was fixed on me, pleading.
Mom looked from her to me. “Should Ace keep watch at the door, then?”
She just stared at me, a silent answer.
“I’ll be right outside the front door,” I said, my voice low and firm. “No one’s coming in. No one will hurt you. I promise.”
She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, her eyes dropping back to her hands.
And so I took my post. If my presence on the other side of that door made her feel even a fraction safer, then I would sit there until the world ended.
