Page 81
Ace
EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD
My hand gently strokes against her cheek. She is beautiful, she always has been. I knew I loved her from the very beginning, even as kids. Even in moments when she drove me crazy or the times she got me beaten for disobeying or being defiant, I always knew it in my heart that Melina Reigns was the love of my life.
"You're awake early," she whispers, her voice croaky as she sleepily opens her eyes. The white sheets wrap around her body and she pulls herself up, leaning her head softly against my chest.
"I couldn't sleep," I admit.
"Are you nervous? About today?" Her fingers run circles on my chest as she looks up at me. Today's my initiation into The Order, the day Archie finally decides I need to take a life. I've spent the last two years playing drug runner, but now he's promoting me to executioner.
"Nervous? Nah," I lie. "I'm more excited about what comes after." I smile, pressing my lips against her forehead. Today is the day we start our forever; I just need to make it through the last hurdle.
"You remember the plan, right? We meet at midnight, and we leave, Jax. We finally leave." Her voice is so soft it sings in my ears. Years of wanting this and wishing we could leave this place together is finally coming true, it's hard to believe.
"You've drilled it into me for long enough I don't think I'll ever forget." I laugh, and she mock gasps, slapping her hand against my chest.
"Don't mock me. I just want us to be prepared; you know if Father ever finds out, he'll stop us. He'll never let it happen."
"Lucky for us, he'll never find out then. Not until we're long gone. We'll be making love on a beach far away from here, and I imagine he'll be losing his mind." I pull her closer to me, and she props herself up on her elbows, her dark hair running along her back.
"I can't wait…" she whispers through a smile, leaning in. I close the distance, my lips finding hers until we're consuming each other, our tongues colliding. She moves, dropping the sheet as she straddles me. My hands roam along her body, settling on her hips as our kiss quickens. I love this woman, more than I can breathe.
"I love you," I whisper against her lips.
"I'll always love you, Jax."
I pace outside of the locked door for an hour, my hands dug deep into my pockets. Relax, Adrian would say, but how can I relax? When I know just beyond that door lies a man waiting to die by my hand. I swallow as the door slowly opens, the hinges creaking. The paintings that hang on the wall in the hallway watch me, judging me.
"Come in, Ace." Archie greets me with a smile, but I hear the screams behind him. The pleas. And this is before we've even begun. I step inside, my heart racing and palms sweating. I try to think of what comes after, of what's at stake. A life with Melina, a life with no rules, no punishments. A life where I don't wake up every day wondering if it'll be my last.
I follow Archie's step; this is a room I've never been in before, one that always remained locked. I remember as a kid me and Jarrod tried to pick the lock once, our curiosity getting the better of us. When Adrian had found us? Fuck, he'd given us a beating. But honestly, the lecture that came after had somehow been worse.
A surgical bed lays in the middle of the room, a singular light hung above, and beside it, a tray with multiple instruments. I swallow at the sight.
"P-p-p-please." The man's voice shakes so hard he can barely speak. Archie stands beside him, hands folded behind his back, waiting for me to come closer.
You can do this. You have to do this.
I repeat the words in my mind almost like I'm trying to convince myself I have a choice, and I stand beside the man chained to the table. I don't know what to do, because how do you prepare for this? Yes, training with Adrian had taught me how to survive. He'd taught me how to shoot, how to fight, how to protect myself, but he'd never taught me this. He'd never once shown me what to do once they're already chained and waiting.
"What do I do?" I turn to Archie.
He smiles, leaning in and taking my arm, tugging me toward the small table beside me.
"Whatever you want to do, Ace. He's your canvas."
I take a breath as my eyes inspect the instruments, the saws, the blades. My hand shakes slightly as I take the scalpel.
"Nice choice. Start small, you'll find your way eventually," Archie praises, and somehow his words instil a confidence I didn't know I needed.
I hold the scalpel against the man's bare flesh on his stomach, and for a second, I hesitate. Archie catches it straight away, but he doesn't sound mad. He sounds patient.
"He's a child killer, Ace. He deserves this."
"N-n-no—" the man begins to beg, to plead. To argue. But Archie isn't a reckless murderer; every kill has a reason, just like every life has a price.
I press the scalpel into him, and blood begins to trickle. His screams flood the room, but I block it out, concentrating on the way the blade feels against his spongy flesh. On the new feeling that begins to settle in my chest.
