Chapter 03

MIRANDA

Incessant ringing was what pulled me out of my comatose state. I was vividly aware of the headache pounding on my frontal lobe.

Jesus, what happened to me last night?

My eyelids peeled open, the harsh rays of the morning sun burning my irises. With a hiss, I buried my face under my pillow but then realization hit me and I jolted up from the bed I found myself in — my bed. I couldn't remember coming home last night; maybe Quinn had brought me here.

Bless her sweet soul.

I tossed my covers aside and trudged into the bathroom, glaring at my ratchet reflection. My make-up was a complete mess and half of my hair was matted to my head while the other half had tufts sticking out in multiple directions. I was no longer in the dress I had worn the night before. Instead, I was in my sleep shorts and a loose tank top but I couldn't remember changing. Most of the night was a complete blur and when I tried too hard to think about it, my brain hurt more.

I needed coffee and something for the painful hangover. Grabbing my silk robe, I tied it around me and then made my way to the kitchen. I needed to find my phone so I could call Quinn or at least send her a text, thanking her for taking care of me last night.

I was abruptly pulled out of my thoughts when I rounded the corner and found a man in my kitchen, a strangled yelp slipping past my lips. When I realized who exactly the man was, I scowled and gritted out, "What the hell are you doing here?"

He simply cocked a brow, pushing over a glass of water and Advil toward me on the table, "Drink it," he ordered, staring at me with those hazel orbs of his expectantly.

I glared at the glass of water in disdain. This man must have thought me a fool. I wasn't going to trust him, not when he had plans to kill me at one stage. This water could have been poisoned for all I knew. I wasn't going to accept this water, or anything for that matter, from him.

"No," I snarled, crossing my arms over my chest with a disinterested glare, "If it's coming from you then I don't want it. I don't need it."

"Suit yourself," Ace answered with a shrug, "if you think I'm going to beg you to take an Advil and drink water then you're delusional."

"Delusional?" I seethed, narrowing my eyes at him, "I'm not the delusional one. How dare you come into my apartment and call me delusional? Why don't you just get the hell out of my apartment?"

Ace rolled his eyes at me, completely unfazed by my blowout, "What do you remember about last night?"

"What? What does that have to do with anything?" I retaliated, waiting for some sort of explanation. 

"Just answer the question, baby, and I promise I'll be out of your messy hair."

I felt heat travel through my body and I knew my cheeks probably sported a pink hue to it but I made an effort to deepen my scowl so he wouldn't catch my blush, "Don't call me that."

"What," he snorted, amusement coloring his features, "baby?"

"Yes," I deadpanned, biting down on the inside of my cheek.

"Relax Mi-ran-da," he stressed my name on purpose which only vexed me further. This man was insufferable, "it's just who I am. I call Quinn baby girl, it doesn't mean I mean anything by it. Try not to get that pretty pink thong of yours in a twist."

"W-what?" My eyes widened as I realized that I had worn a matching set last night before heading to the party — that matching set just happened to be pink, "you, you were they're the one to change me last night."

"That's right, baby," Ace leaned his weight against the kitchen counter crossing his arms over his chest which had the short sleeves of his tee riding up. I could see a hint of a tattoo branding his right bicep, "so, back to my question. Can you tell me what the hell happened last night because I'd love to know why you had one drink and then passed out in my arms?"

What?

What the actual fuck happened to me last night?

I brought two fingers up to my temple and began massaging, willing myself to remember the events of the night before. Each time I tried to remember my migraine began to worsen. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened to me. I could handle my alcohol. There was no possible way that one drink got me so intoxicated that I would willingly pass out in Ace's arms.

Of all the men walking this Earth, why did it have to be him?

I felt my stance waver and I stumbled back, bracing myself to meet the cold ground of my kitchen floor. A hand swiftly caught my elbow, steadying me with a frustrated growl.

"If you're not going to take the Advil or hydrate yourself then, at the very least, sit the fuck down because I don't plan on being your crutch," he seethed, picking me up and setting me on the cool countertop. Ace began tapping my cheek lightly, "come on, focus baby and just drink the damn water." He, then, grabbed the glass of water on the table and took a large sip of it, "See, I haven't put anything in it. If I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't drug you. That would show up in a toxicology report."

He had a point and although his reasoning wasn't exactly sound, I knew I needed the water. I had to swallow my pride and my words from not even ten minutes ago and drink the water I had glared at originally. Ace brought the rim of the glass to my lips, its cool surface being a stark contrast to my warm lips. The water soothed my aching, parched throat as it slid down and I could feel the dizziness fading. Once I was done, Ace placed the glass on the table.

"That's not true you know," I finally whispered, my voice held less of a rasp than before, "you could have used cyanide. It doesn't give off an odor and when it does it generally smells like almonds, and it rarely shows up on a toxicology report unless you're testing for it. Plus, it leaves the body quickly so you probably wouldn't even get caught. It would be passed as a heart attack."

He blinked, his hazel orbs shining with amusement while the corner of his lips subtly twitched, "Should I be scared that you know that?"

I shrugged a shoulder, "I watch a lot of true crime documentaries."

"And what if you don't want the body to be found?" He quizzed, hands settling on the curve of my hips as he settled between my legs. It was so natural.

I gave his question some thought. Things like this were complicated. I knew not to believe everything I watched on documentaries and tv shows but I was studying criminal law. I knew a thing or two about getting away with murder.

Again, I shrugged a nonchalant shoulder, "I'd call you to help me get rid of the body but we'll do it my way."

His lips split into a pleased grin, "What makes you think I'll help you?"

"You're psychotic, you'll come."

"Oh, I can come in many ways, baby."

I crinkled my nose in disgust at his innuendo, "Do you ever give it a rest? I can't have a moment of peace when you're around and you seem to be around more often than not. I'm going to change the locks."

"Firstly, maybe I like the banter and, secondly, changing your locks won't keep me out. Now, what will be your way of getting rid of a body?" Ace's hands slid beneath my silk gown so he could circle his thumb over my hip bone.

I rolled my eyes, not caring to push him away because it would be futile — if he wanted to do anything to me he simply would have, "As I said, I'd call you and you'd take the body to a remote location. If it's premeditated then we'll already have a vertical grave dug because it's far more difficult to find someone in a vertical grave, if not, I guess we will be digging all night. Then, we will cover the grave halfway and place a dead animal horizontally across to throw off the scent from search dogs."

I paused, watching the way Ace sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. He looked almost mesmerized by my words which, in all fairness, was terrifying.

Nevertheless, I went on, "And for good measure, we'll find a plant that's close to extinction and plant it on top. It's against the law to dig up plants that are close to extinction. We won't leave a paper trail nor an electronic one."

He chuckled lightheartedly, stepping away from me which had a cold draft replacing his body heat, "Your mind is a dark place, baby. Whether you care to admit it or not."

"It's not as dark as yours," I mumbled, casting my eyes downward, "and I wouldn't murder anyone in reality. That's more your field of expertise."

"You never know what the future holds. Circumstances may alter your fate and you may not want to be a killer but that may be the only option you have to save your life," Ace's tone turned serious, almost chiding, and when I brought my gaze to meet his, I could see that he mentally wasn't with me anymore, "everyone is selfish. No one is going to sit back and let someone kill them. You'd rather defend yourself and kill the person."

"Ac—"

"What happened to you last night, Miranda?" He snapped, bringing up his walls once again and going back to the topic at hand.

"I don't know," I breathed, "I don't remember. Just forget it happened and don't try anything stupid like finding the person and killing them."

"Are you kidding me? Someone drugged you and if Quinn hadn't been there who knows what would have happened. Can you imagine how many girls have been in your position and you just want to let it slide?" Ace all but yelled, causing my head to throb once again.

"What do you expect me to do?" I reasoned, sliding off the counter — which I instantly regretted when I began to sway again.

"Shit," Ace hissed, bringing one arm around my waist while cupping the back of my neck with his other hand.

"I don't remember," my voice cracked at the end, my body trembling in his hold as I drowned in his hazel orbs, "and maybe I don't want to remember."

He sighed, moving a curl of hair off my forehead, "Come on, let's get you back to bed." Hooking an arm behind my knees, he scooped me into his arms and completed the short distance to my bedroom. Ace laid me onto the bed, tossing the covers on top of me and tucking me in, "I'll check on you later and I'll let Quinn know that you're fine."

"I owe you a thank you," I murmured, settling into the warmth of my bed.

His Adam's apple bobbed and he shook his head, "You know what happens when you do a job like mine. You tend to see how fucked up the world is. It blurs that line between right and wrong. Maybe killing the asshole who did this to you is wrong to you but it's right to me. So, don't thank me until I rid the world of a piece of shit like him."

With those words, he turned to leave without looking back.