Free ACE: Las Vegas Bad Boys by Frankie Love

right places.
    “The only clue … besides the fact she liked to umm….” Clark shifts in his chair, the tops of his ears bright red. “Well, never mind. She kept referring to a man named Bullet. And she asked him to pick her up at nine. The crash happened at 9:15. Your guess is as good as mine.”
    I pull my purse higher on my shoulder, ready to go. My head hurts from this conversation, and, mostly, I need a nap. “I just wish she'd wake up. It would make everything a lot easier.”
    “Sure would, Emmy.”
    “Thanks, though,” I tell Clark, meaning it. At least he followed through and kept me in the loop.

    * * *
    A s I walk though the corridor of the hospital, my new heels click-clack against the floor. I think it sounds sexy, and I blush remembering why I have these on my feet at all.
    Knowing Claire probably thinks I'm the flakiest friend ever, I send her a quick text.
    Me: Sorry for bailing on brunch. I have a good excuse.
    Claire: Prove it. Meet me for dinner? I'm off at 5.
    Looking at the time, I see it's 3:00. Perfect.
    Me: Sure. Where?
    Claire: Here. Davey gave me a 2 for 1 at the buffet.
    I smile, knowing how Claire loves the Spades Royalle buffet. No way would I be able to talk her out of it. That girl loves food like nobody’s business.
    Me: I think Davey is in love with you.
    Claire: We don't date players, remember?
    Davey works hotel security and clearly has a thing for Claire. I wouldn't say she's a dick tease, but she definitely hasn't put the kibosh on his attempts.
    Me: See you at the buffet line, chica.
    Pocketing my phone, I'm once again grateful for her friendship. It lessens the sting of not having any family.
    Back in Washington, where I was born and raised, I worked my ass through school. My life always felt complicated and stressful, friendships were always on the back burner. But then when I moved here, got this job, and met Claire—we just clicked. Tess, too, but she's a bit too innocent to take in large doses.
    Though she probably really needs girls like Claire and I in her corner—that girl is gonna get herself in trouble one of these days.
    Thinking of her, I send a quick text inviting her to meet us at the buffet. She immediately replies with a string of emojis letting me know she is in.
    I shake my head. That girl has a never-ending reserve of energy.
    Stopping at the nurse’s station, I offer them a smile and write my name on the check-in sheet.
    “Any progress?” I ask Amy, the head nurse.
    “I wish, sweet pea. But nothing to note. The doctor stopped by earlier; you missed him by an hour.”
    “Oh, really? I was hoping to catch him.” My heart falls, feeling like I can't catch a break today. Tears prick my eyes, and I quickly wipe them away, wanting to remain positive and brave. I know that’s what Janie needs more than anything. “I just feel like she's never gonna wake up.”
    “I know it feels that way, but there's still hope. Her latest CT scan was positive, remember that. No blood clots, no swelling. But the doctor did say he wanted to speak with you.”
    “Well, I'll try and catch him tomorrow.” I know that most coma patients recover after two to four weeks—and we’re going on eight. “I'll just go talk with her. Okay?”
    “Okay, Emmy. Chin up, okay?”
    I smile at her, but it's a phony one. I wish I had unlimited positive mojo to dish out, but I don't. At the end of the day, I'm kind of a mess.
    Sitting with Janie in her sterile hospital room, I hold her hand. In the quiet space I'm able to confess how lonely I am. Admit what I did last night.
    I figure, why the hell not? Maybe hearing about my escapades will jerk her out of her current state.
    It doesn't work.
    After sitting there for ninety minutes, watching crappy daytime television, and crossing and uncrossing my legs anxiously, I kiss her forehead and leave. Maybe tomorrow a miracle will happen.
    Maybe she'll wake up and tell us who Bullet is.

8
    ACE
    A fter leaving Kit’s Gym , I'm hot, sweaty, and