His Greatest Pain Read online

  Evernight Publishing ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2015 Jenika Snow

  ISBN: 978-1-77233-373-2

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Everyone deserves a happily ever after.

  HIS GREATEST PAIN

  Not Just Friends, 2

  Jenika Snow

  Copyright © 2015

  Prologue

  A soft sound woke Lauren, and she slowly opened her eyes. Her room was dark, and she was on her back, staring right at the ceiling. Maybe she’d been dreaming? Closing her eyes again and turning onto her side, she started to feel herself drift back to sleep when she heard tapping on her window. Her heart started pounding hard in her chest, and she opened her eyes, not moving, but staring at her window. The curtains that covered the glass were sheer, and she saw a big dark figure through them. The moon must have been full because it was bright enough to make out the shape.

  “Poppy, it’s me.” The voice on the other side of the window was soft but very deep, and she recognized it right away, recognized Ace calling her by the nickname he’d given her so long ago. He was the only one that called her Poppy, after her favorite flower.

  Pushing the blankets off of her legs, she stood and walked over to the window. Grabbing the edge of the curtains she pulled them aside and saw Ace standing there, his eye swollen almost all the way shut, on his cheek smeared blood, which had clearly come from his nose, and a split bottom lip.

  She gasped, quickly opened the window, and helped him inside. Her mom and dad were just down the hall, and although they thought of Ace as part of the family for the last couple of years, and knew he had a bad family life, having a boy in her room in the middle of the night would still piss them off.

  “God, Ace.” She pulled him in for a hug, and although he was only thirteen he was already over six feet tall. He was a big guy for his age, and that also had him standing out in school, being an outcast not only because he kept to herself, but also because he was so much bigger than anyone else. Right now he seemed so weak and vulnerable, so breakable. They both slid to the ground, with her arms still around him, and the wind lightly blowing in her room from the still opened window.

  “I didn’t know where else to go,” he said in an almost detached voice.

  She grabbed the side of his face that looked unharmed, turned his head toward her, and looked at his wounds. You know you’re always welcome here. This is a safe place, Ace.”

  “Even fighting back doesn’t help when he’s drunker than piss,” Ace said, his eye not swollen shut still red-rimmed from his emotions. His dark hair was a mess around his head, and she ran a finger along the strands that fell over his forehead.

  “Something needs to be done,” she said softly. “Let me call the police, Ace. He can’t do this to you—”

  He shook his head while she still spoke, placed his hand over hers that was on her face and stared into her eyes. “That won’t help, Lauren.” He said her real name, and that told her he was being serious in this, determined for her to understand. He applied pressure to her hand. “You know my dad has a lot of connections, knows people that can get him out of this shit, and besides, the last time the cops were called it was a lot worse.”

  Yeah, she knew that his father, despite being a drunken asshole, had friends in the police department, as well as legal buddies that had apparently helped him out of all kinds of situations. How anyone could live with themselves and help a child abuser infuriated Lauren. But Ace had told her that his father could make anyone feel sympathy for him, playing on the whole his wife was gone, he had to do everything alone, and that he was dealing with an unruly teenager.

  “I hate seeing you like this.” She felt tears well in her eyes. There had been several times she’d been tempted to call the police, had even picked up the phone to do it so many times she’d lost track. But then she thought about what Ace had told her about the last time the police had come to his house, or even when child services had been called. It had been pure hell for Ace after it was all said and done, and she was at a war with herself on what to do.

  But what Ace hadn’t known was she’d gone to the police once, asked them anonymously what “her friend” should do, and unless there was a record or physical signs of abuse, not much could be done. Especially when Ace had a record at school of fighting, which cemented his father’s story of Ace being unruly.

  “What can I do, Ace?” She was crying now.

  He lifted a finger and wiped her tears away.

  “I don’t want you crying for me, Poppy,” he said softly, smiling a little. “I never want you crying for me. I’m not worth it.”

  She cried harder after he spoke. Pulling him into a hug, she held him for several moments, smoothing her hand up and down his back, and just showing him without words that she loved him and he was important to her. “You’re so wrong about that. You are worth it, Ace. You’re worth so much.” Pulling away, she got to her feet and helped him to stand. She pulled him toward her bed, and once she was lying down and he was in front of her, his back to her chest, she wrapped her arms around him.

  “It feels so good having you hold me, Poppy,” he said softly.

  “It feels good having you close, too, Ace.”

  He took her hands in one of his, kept them close to his chest, right over his heart, and exhaled. She smiled, but it was a sad, watery one. Holding him tighter, she rested her head against his back, closed her eyes, and wished like hell things were different. She wished like hell she could be a better friend to him, because he deserved so much better than she was able to give him, so much more than she had given to him.

  ****

  Six years later

  Moving toward Ace’s small apartment, Lauren felt her worry for him fill her to the point she felt sick. The last call she’d gotten from him was at three this morning, but she hadn’t gotten it until just a little bit ago, when she’d woken up. She knocked on the door, didn’t hear any moving on the other side, and tried the handle. Of course it turned from being unlocked, because Ace just didn’t care, not even about himself.

  At only nineteen Ace already had his own place, albeit a pretty shitty, rundown apartment that was cheap and dirty. She hated him living here, hated that after all that he’d been through this was where he was. But right now she couldn’t do anything but be there for him as a friend. She still lived with her family, was working on her associate’s degree to help run her mother’s bookstore in town, and once she had everything settled she could help him out more. That was if he even wanted her help. He seemed to push her away more times than not anymore, especially after they graduated and she started college. She knew he thought he wasn’t any good for her, that his past put this wall between them. He was so wrong.

  She loved him like a brother—well, more than that, if she were being honest, but he was too damaged, too broken, and she knew he wouldn’t welcome that kind of love. His father had ruined that for him, maybe not forever, but for the unforeseeable future.

  Lauren made her way further into the house, and stepped over the empty beer bottles, her heart sinking at the sight. This was her friend, her best friend, and the only person she’d ever truly felt connected with. Ever since she’d seen him that first day he’d shown up at their school she’d felt connected to him. Ace was not the type of boy that showed his emotions back then, and he was the same way now. But even though he was harder, stonier, and had this heavy weight that always seemed to surround him, she just wanted to … protect him.

  The bedroom door was closed, and she just knew what she’d see on the other side, but she had to make sure he was okay. He was on a path of destruction, and it seemed like nothing would ever help him climb out of that pit.

  Opening the door, she took in the scene. He was in the center of his small bed, the sheets pooled around the bottom of the mattress, and Ace lying in the center of the bed naked. He was breathing, thank God, and was alone, another thankful thought in her head. She knew he brought women home, but she also knew it wasn’t just about sex for him. It was about forgetting his past, a dark past he’d shared with her before, when they’d gotten close, so close she knew her heart would break in two if she lost him. But she also didn’t want him to be lonely, and for that she felt like a failure to him.

  Moving further into the room she grabbed the blanket from the bottom of the bed. She glanced at his body, all hard muscles, tattoos lining his flesh, and the scars that he was trying to hide. But no amount of ink would get rid of his scars on the inside or outside. She covered him with the sheets, giving him some decency and privacy. He groaned and rolled onto his side, facing her. The scent of booze came from him in a strong gust. He was probably still so drunk, probably only having gone to bed a short time ago.

  Lauren pushed a strand of his hair away from his forehead, the lock soft. She stared at his face, and saw the relaxation on his expression. Right now he was at peace. Even with his eyes closed she knew he had the most beautiful light green
eyes, ones that could suck a person in with their brutality.

  She breathed out and dropped her hand back to her side. All the horrible things she’d been told about what his father had done to him, about the burning with the cigarettes, the beatings, the locking him up in closets when he was “bad”, all of that broke her heart over and over again. She loved this man more than life itself, but she wanted to protect him, and professing her love, wanting him in more than just a friendly way when he needed to get his life straightened and healthy wasn’t going to help anything.

  “I love you,” she whispered, smiling when his eyebrow twitched. She ran a finger over the dark brow, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead.

  “Lauren,” Ace said in a soft, still sleepy voice. He slowly opened his eyes, blinked a few times, and then he sighed, as if he were in pain. “I hate you seeing me like this.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I called you last night, didn’t I?”

  “You did, but I’m here now. I didn’t get the message until just a little bit ago.”

  He pushed himself up, moved a hand over his hair, down over his face, and scratched his chest.

  She looked at his chest, at the tattoos that he was still working on getting, some of them partially done, and still needing to be colored in. There was a long knife scar on his side, and she knew it was from a time his father had come home drunk and attacked Ace. She felt so much pain for him, wished she could take it away from Ace, but all she could do was be here when he needed her. He breathed out, saw her looking at his scar, and when she reached out to touch it he grabbed her hand in a gentle hold.

  “Lauren…” He sounded pained now, and she wanted to wrap him in a hug. They may only be nineteen, and he may play the strong guy that didn’t let anyone in or hurt him anymore, but she could look in his eyes and see how much he was hurting.

  “I hate that you won’t let me help you, Ace.” They were close, so close, but she knew he had this darkness inside of him that slowly ate him away, that made this wall around him that kept people out.

  He was silent for several moments, and when he cupped her cheek in his big hand, and she leaned into it, she swore she saw a wall break away.

  “I’m so fucked up, but I try and pretend like I’m okay.”

  She nodded and covered his hand on her face with her own. “I know, but I’m here. You know that, Ace.” She squeezed his hand. “You have to stop this, Ace. You have to let me help you.”

  He nodded now. “I know, but I don’t want you contaminated by the toxicity that’s inside of me.” He breathed out roughly, closed his eyes, and shook his head. “But then I get drunk, think about you and how important you are to me, and I do stupid shit like call you. Hell, I don’t even know what the fuck I said in the message.”

  She smiled even though his eyes were closed. “You said you missed me, but that you were so tired.” Replaying what he’d said in her message made her sad, because he’d sounded so sad in it. That was why she’d gotten so worried. “Why do you do this to yourself? Why don’t you just let me be here with you when you feel out of control?”

  And then, right in front of her and shocking her, Ace broke down. He cried, his big body shaking. She climbed on the bed right next to him, wrapped her arms around his much larger frame, and just held him.

  He wasn’t in a good place right now. Hell, she didn’t know if he’d ever been in a good place in his life, but she’d help him get there. Lauren would not leave his side, not for anything in the world. They were in this together until the end.

  Chapter One

  Four years later

  Pain isn’t just a word, but the physical feeling caused by disease, injury, or something that hurts the body. It’s a mental or emotional suffering, one that is so profound, so intense, it can end a life with no effort. Sadness, tragedy, or even self-hatred can cause the crippling effect of that pain, can render a person immobile, and steal their breath.

  All of those things and more were what Ace Renaldo had felt every day of his miserable twenty-three year existence, and after his father died it only got worse. But there was one small sliver of light in his fucked-up existence, one shred of hope that he held onto.

  Lauren Dunn.

  She’d been there for him on that first day of school. He hadn’t given a shit where he was going or what he would do. She’d seen something in him he hadn’t seen in himself, and that had started a lifelong friendship. She’d been there for him when his ugly and dark parts consumed him, when he didn’t even want to be there for himself.

  Even now he remembered the one and only time he’d broken down in front of her. She’d just held him and told him she wasn’t going anywhere. So he’d tried to be better for her, but he could never get rid of the vileness that was engrained in his soul. So, he fought, didn’t drink alone anymore, and it helped him see that life didn’t have to be grim because he’d had a shitty upbringing.

  For as long as he could remember Ace had been living in his own self-hatred and disgust, living with the shame that he’d endured so much, yet probably deserved every single moment of it. Everything that happened was a direct result of what he’d done, or didn’t do in most cases.

  He never wanted anything for himself, never even entertained the idea of having something he could call his own. But he did want something for himself, wanted something that caused his ugly pain inside to recede and fill with something else … maybe hope? His pain didn’t leave, didn’t vanish after that hope, but it did fade enough that he wasn’t confused with its ugliness.

  He looked down at his arms, sweat lining the tattooed flesh. Even under the ink he still saw the cigar burns from his old man, still remembered the smell of burning flesh, of the sound of his skin sizzling, and then the numbness that followed the pain. It was that numbness that he wrapped himself up in, clung on tight to as a little boy. Without it he’d have been lost.

  He started punching the red bag in front of him, feeling his anger mount, his desire for the one woman he’d never really have consume him. He was at the cheap gym in the town he lived in, and although he had a good paying job working at a construction contractor’s firm, he preferred the grittier part of the city. It made him feel like he didn’t have to be someone or something he wasn’t. He could come here, work out amongst the poverty-stricken guys, the thugs, violent men that didn’t put up with shit, and he liked it that way.

  For another twenty minutes he worked out, adding to the already hour and a half he’d been at the gym. It was going on seven in the morning, and he still had a full day of work ahead of him. The only thing that didn’t have him going completely mad was the fact he could look forward to seeing Lauren at the end of the day.

  He grabbed onto the bag, braced his weight on it, and closed his eyes, breathing out. Lauren, fucking Lauren, the one woman that consumed his thoughts, the one person that made him want to be better. But Ace knew he could never be with her in the way he wanted. He fought too much, had too much violence and darkness in him still, and although she knew about his past and that his father had beaten him in drunken fits, Lauren was still too pure and good for him.

  She was his best friend, and he didn’t want to fuck up the only good thing in his life.

  Ace took a step back, pressed his hand to the bag to steady it, and then in a fast move, using all of his strength, he slammed his fist into it. Pain exploded in his knuckles, the tape surrounding his skin unable to block the impact well enough. He cursed, clenched and released his hand, and turned to stalk toward the locker room.

  Once inside he slammed the door shut, knowing he needed to get a hold of his emotions, but feeling his rage rise up. Working out at the gym helped get some of that ugliness out, but it didn’t help all the time, like right now. What he needed was a nice bloody fight, one that wasn’t quite legal, but where the cops looked the other way because the place it was located wasn’t on the up and up. But those were the best kind of fights, the raw, blood … gore. Those and bar fights were fucking good at getting him loose and relaxed. He’d never change, never not have to fight to get this nasty darkness out, but he dealt with it.