Ace

When I got the picture of a gun being held to Micah’s head, something in me snapped. I dropped what I was doing and immediately rushed out the door—probably worrying some of my men.

This was my fault. I should have ensured he always had a trail on him. And I did for a while, but then things got a bit out of hand, and we bit off more than we could chew. He wasn’t meant to find out what I did after dark. I’m sure that bastard told Micah everything by now, because he was a pig who couldn’t see past his own nose.

I only pissed myself off even more when I called Milo, and for his daughter to make such a threat to me, to threaten to touch him after I told them I would put a bullet through their eyes. I ground my teeth together as I ran another red light, speeding to the warehouse with the money I had received from Milo’s little brother Dominic. He could have his fucking money back, I didn’t care about the money.

I cared about Micah.

Shit— He’d probably never talk to me again after this. Which would mean he would be more vulnerable, and others would know my vulnerability. I slammed my hands on the steering wheel with frustration, letting out a growl.

When I pulled into the parking lot of the warehouse, I desperately wanted to ram my car into the building and hoped to whoever was up there that I wouldn’t hit Micah. I was seething, enraged— every word that would describe anger was me in the moment.

I opened my glove box, grabbing the two pieces and extra ammo out of it and stuffed them both into the waist of my pants. Honestly, I hoped I wouldn’t need to use them, especially in front of Micah. If push came to shove though.

I would kill anyone who harmed the little mouse.

I quickly got out of my car, grabbing the suitcase of money from the trunk and I moved quickly into the warehouse. Almost as if it were a movie, Micah was sitting in the middle of the warehouse with an overhead light beaming down on him. His head was slumped over, I didn’t know if he was passed out, asleep or what was wrong with him. He was sat in an uncomfortable position and he was tied up so he couldn’t move his arms or legs.

“There he is.” Milo said in a grandiose manner, holding his hands up as if he were wanting me to hug him. “The man of the hour.”

I clenched my jaw and spoke between my teeth. “Let him go.” I said. Micah turned his head to look at me, but then he winced in pain, turning his head back to look at Milo.

“Do you have the guns we asked for in the message?” Milo asked, pulling a revolver out of his pocket. He flicked the chamber out and put a bullet into one of the holes. “Or do you wanna play a little game of roulette with the boy?” He grinned, closing the chamber, and he spun it around, letting it click a few times.

I threw the suitcase of money at him. “Deals off.” I said, reaching behind my back and pulling the gun out of my pants.

“Oh no, no, no Ace. I said I wanted the guns. I already have money.” He replied, pulling the trigger back and aiming it at Micah. He pulled the trigger, and it clicked, signaling that the chamber was empty. Micah flinched, but he remained calm otherwise. If it were any other omega, they would have pissed their pants. He then aimed the gun at me.

“Why don’t you be a good boy, Ace, and put that gun down.” His daughter said behind me, I snapped my head back toward her. She gave me a sly grin, and she looked at her father behind me.

Another click.

“Oh, Ace, why would you wanna do that?” Milo asked. “I’m just being nice.” He replied.

“When Dominic finds out what you’re doing and what you have done, he’s probably gonna kill you anyway.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Might as well beat him to the punch. You did kidnap my omega, so I think it’d be fair game.”

“I am not your omega,” Micah spat, trying to turn my way again, but it didn’t work out the way he intended.

Milo laughed, aiming the gun at Micah again.

“We’ll talk after this, Micah, just— let me handle this,” I said.

Another click.

“Honestly,” Milo frowned. “I don’t think you have this handled, Ace.”

“Put the gun down Ace.” His daughter said again.

“Take the money,” I snapped. “I will never do business with the likes of you ever again.”

“You might be dead, so I think I’d—“ I pulled the second gun out of my waistband and stood to where I could aim both guns at the two of them.

“You might be dead,” I said flatly.

I cocked both guns at both Milo and his daughter. I didn’t want to talk with them anymore, I just wanted to end this bullshit, take Micah home, and explain everything to him if he let me.

“Take the money, and let us go, or so help me, I will kill the both of you. I’m done with your bullshit.” I growled, almost as if I were an animal, almost like the first alpha’s that were possessive over their mates.

Milo didn’t take my warning, and in one slick movement, he pulled the trigger of the revolver and this time a bullet came out. I did not hesitate to aim my guns and pulled the trigger just one millisecond after Milo had. One thing I was good at, was shooting a gun. I never missed my targets. Milo and his daughter were no exception. They both hit the ground in unison, and I knew I had just ended two life’s that needlessly hadn’t needed to be ended. But pride got in the way for both of them.

The bullet hit my shoulder and I tried to keep my composure as if I hadn’t just gotten shot. I needed to remain calm. It hurt, yeah, but honestly, it could have been worse.

I could hear the small whimper that Micah had let out. I knew it had to be a lot to see someone get killed. I remember the first time I had seen my grandpa kill someone. That someone was my own dad.

I let out a sigh, and I walked toward the shaken omega, and finally, I was able to get a good look at him. His forehead had a knot the size of a golf ball on his temple; it was bleeding, and I could tell he probably had a concussion. All of the noise and light probably did no good for him.

“You’re okay?” He whimpered, finally looking me in the eyes.

“Of course, little mouse.” I cupped his chin in my hand. “Nothing but a flesh wound!” I pointed to my shoulder.

His beautiful eyes widened. “You got shot?” He jerked his arm but was unable to do what he wanted.

“Let me get you out of your restraints,” I said calmly, crouching down to cut the plastic ties. When he was free, his small, pale hands inspected my bullet wound.

“We need to get you to a hospital,” Micah said, worry clear as day.

“No hospitals.” I put my larger hand over his. “I’ll clean it up at home.”

He shook his head, and his eyes met mine, almost as if he were in disbelief. “You have a bullet in your shoulder.”

“And you have a knot the size of the moon on your head, but you’re probably gonna be like, ‘I can just sleep this off.’” I chuckled, shaking my head. “I’ve been shot before. It’s no biggie.”

“You say this like it’s an everyday thing.” The pitch of his voice jumped an octave.

“Mouse, I’m a mob boss. It kinda is.” I shrugged my good shoulder.

“What have I gotten myself into,” Micah mumbled to himself.

I could tell he was shocked about everything happening around him. It would probably hit him tomorrow once he woke up, and he’ll probably make a run for it.

“Chaos, honestly,” I replied to him.

Micah unexpectedly wrapped is arms around me, he tucked his head under my chin and buried his face into my chest. “Thank you.” He said.

“Hmm,” I hummed, rubbing his back. “For?” I asked him.

“For coming for me…” He mumbled. “I told him that I didn’t have much to live for. It was a lie, of course. There’s so much that I want to do in my life.”

“Wanna talk about it on our way back home? That way, you can keep me up?” I asked.

“I can do that.” Micah blushed.

— — —

Micah kept me awake by talking about his dreams. He told me he always wanted to have an art show with his paintings. He wanted to do normal things. He wanted to get married, have kids, and get a house—everything from the music to the food he loved. All the ride home did was make me fall more for him.