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apologized over and over again for screwing everything up. He’d heard the guilt and shame in Ace’s voice at putting Spider at risk; King had also heard the sheer terror in Ace’s voice when he’d begged King to make sure that Spider was safe. Finally, King had heard the soft hope, the surprising sweetness and vulnerability in Ace’s voice when he’d told King that he wanted a second chance with Spider. He’d also seen and heard nothing but relief when Honey had called to say that Spider was in the safe house, and King had told Ace that he was with his Men and was OK.
    That had been Ace’s truth and his true feelings. This mask was nothing but protection, though it was counter-productive. King needed everyone involved to get along, and if Ace was going to be a dickhead about so much as apologizing to his ex, then they were off to a bad, bad start.
    He sighed again, shook his dark head. Damn love. It fucked things up faster than anything else that King could think of.
    “OK,” King said, his voice gravel. “Go. We have time to talk things through, but right now, I need to brief Honey and Tex on a few things. They’ll be staying here tonight, taking turns standing guard. I’ll be back tomorrow, so you guys get your heads straight and you can ask me anything you want when I come back. Deal?”
    “Deal.” Spider got to his feet, gave Ace one more disgusted look. “Thanks, King. Nice to know that someone here is looking out for me, and being honest and adult.” He swept out of the room, stomped upstairs. King half-expected him to slam the bedroom door, and was gratified when he didn’t, though Spider was plenty pissed, for all of that.
    King’s eyes met Tex and Honey’s. They all shook their heads, all thinking the same thing:
    This is going to be one hell of a pain-in-the-ass assignment .
    **
    Ace had spent the past ten minutes staring at his hands, not able to bring himself to meet Liam’s eyes, even though he knew that he should. The hurt and reproach and betrayal in those gorgeous brown depths would finish him, and he knew it. So gazing at the dirt under his nails it was.
    He’d honestly thought that he couldn’t possibly feel more like shit about Liam getting hauled into his mess, but here he was, wrong about that. For about the eight-thousandth time in about four hours, Ace berated himself for hanging onto that pen drive of pictures. Why had he taken that kind of fucking stupid risk? Why ?
    But even as he asked himself the question – yet again – he knew the answer. Of course he did.
    He’d kept those pictures because they were of Liam. That was the start, the middle, and the end of it.
    They were of the man that he loved.
    Had it been stupid? Yes, it had. Utterly, unbelievably, indefensibly so. But would he do it again, even if he’d known that this was the outcome?
    Hell, yes .
    Those pictures had gotten Ace through some rough, hard times over the past seven years, through some of the darkest dark that had ever descended upon his life. Liam’s face, his smile, his belief and trust and love shining through – they had saved Ace from ending his own life, and they’d saved him more than once.
    Those pictures had reminded him that Ace Cuddy was a selfish and violent man who knew how to be generous and gentle. He was a heartless, emotionless bastard who did actually have a heart beating under that MC cut, and who did actually know what it was to love, deeply and absolutely and purely. A worthless piece of shit who had – once upon a time and just for a short while – been worth something to someone. Those pictures had been the best of Ace, the best that he could ever be, and they consistently and constantly showed him that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life by letting Liam walk out of it.
    They were howling, aching, never-ending regret. They were hope and love and life. They were a talisman, a reproach, a wish, a dream. They made him smile and they made him curse himself; they brought