The Edge of Heaven (Broken Wings Duet Book 2) Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Gia Riley

  All rights reserved.

  Visit my website at www.authorgiariley.com

  Cover Designer: Marisa-Rose Wesley, Cover Me Darling

  Editor and Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com

  Proofreading: Judy Zweifel, Judy’s Proofreading

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  ISBN-13: 978-1983502668

  Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Gia

  “Do what you have to do until you can do what you want to do.”

  —Oprah Winfrey

  Prologue

  Trey

  The lights were out in the apartment, and it was quieter than usual. When Mick and Tess were having one of their parties, the entire floor was awake. I’d always stop by when I got home from work, wondering how they managed to get to their own jobs in the morning after partying all night.

  Mick was responsible though. When it came to his daughter, she didn’t want for anything. But, as the partying got more and more out of hand, I knew my best friend was slowly losing his grip on reality. Empty bottles and dirty needles littered the coffee table. Lines of coke were ready for whoever needed it, all while an impressionable teenager slept in the other room. If she didn’t have such a good head on her shoulders, she could have taken advantage of a shitty situation.

  She sure as hell didn’t deserve to be surrounded by the partying and drugs, but there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to change the way we lived. Mick would never let me step in. He had it under control. Or so I thought.

  The hallway was lit by a night-light, and I heard the toilet flush. Then, the floor creaked around the corner. Something in my gut told me to take a look, and when I did, I saw his hand on the knob.

  “Get the fuck out of here,” I told him.

  He held his hands up and turned around.

  I should have known it was Jax.

  “Where’s the bathroom, man?”

  I pointed over my shoulder because it was obvious. He’d been showing his face more and more lately, and no matter how much he drank, there was no way he could forget where the toilet was. The place wasn’t a mansion in the suburbs. It was an apartment in the heart of the city.

  City or not, Mick never should have let Jax back into his life. The guy was nothing but trouble, and he wanted Tess. He always did. But, in that moment, I wasn’t so sure Tess was the only reason he kept coming back.

  I got in his face with a warning that couldn’t be ignored. “If I ever catch you near Winnie again, I’ll kill you,” I told him. And I meant it.

  The bathroom door opened, and Tess came out. She had to hold on to the wall to keep herself upright. I saw the way she adjusted her skirt and bra and then pushed the sweaty hair away from her face. Some guy I’d never seen before trailed her, and I wanted to kill him, too. Not because I was jealous. I was pissed off because my best friend loved her, and she was more worried about scoring dope than staying faithful to him.

  Jax and Tess exchanged a look, something in between friendly and I’ll fuck you later, and then he closed the bathroom door behind himself.

  It was time for me to leave. I couldn’t handle that shit. The games. The bad decisions. The drugs and drinking.

  Mick stopped me on my way out and offered me whatever I wanted from the table. I dealt with enough of that shit at work. I didn’t need it. Didn’t want it.

  “I’m good,” I told him.

  Then, I left and prayed. I prayed Jax stayed out of Winnie’s bedroom and that nobody overdosed. Because I was tired of reading about all the friends I’d lost in the paper. Obituaries that told stories about the good years or about the heart that used to beat beneath the skin and bones each had become. Nobody ever mentioned the binges, the withdrawal when the money had run out, or how many men or women they’d had to fuck to stay high.

  Addiction was ugly.

  Ignoring it was even uglier.

  But that was what I did every time I walked away.

  I missed the person Mick used to be. I missed the guy who had sober conversations without losing his train of thought or stopping mid-sentence because he needed another hit. The one who talked about buying a house outside city limits, so his daughter could have more space to grow up. God, he’d talked about that all the time.

  Now, he merely existed in a hazy fog, and those goals were long gone. I knew it was only a matter of time before it all caught up to him, and he was gone, too. That was how it worked around here. And I knew, when that day came, I’d have Mick’s back, dead or alive. I’d pick up the pieces he left behind and make something out of them.

  Just because his life was slipping away didn’t mean Winnie had to lose hers, too. Maybe I couldn’t control Mick. I couldn’t force him to quit and get clean—not as long as he was controlled by Tess, the most powerful drug on the market—but I could fight for Winnie. I’d never stop fighting for her.

  One

  Trey

  “This isn’t how it ends, Winn. You’re not getting on that stage,” I say to myself as I stare at the bar flyer with Winnie’s face plastered across the front of it.

  Ace told me I could trust him, but trust doesn’t involve an underage girl stripping for money. He has flyers all over the park, and because of him, whatever anonymity Winnie had left is gone. In a matter of twenty-four hours, he managed to turn the sweetest girl in Carillon into trailer trash, and she hasn’t even stepped onstage yet.

  I failed her.

  I’d thought I had it all figured out. That, if I watched as best I could, I’d be able to shield her from the wolves and keep them out of her room. But this isn’t about Jax trying to sneak into her room anymore. This is about her body and her soul—the two most precious gifts she has left.

  I wanted her to have choices in life. So that, when she grew up, she’d believe she could go anywhere and do anything. Nothing about Tess, her dad, or this shitty trailer park would hold her back. But, for Winnie to do something as insane as dancing, her back must be up against a wall. And, once I find out why, Ace, Tess, and whoever else is involved will remember why I’m so good at my job.

  When I pull up to The Whip, Ace is getting out o
f his car. His head’s down, and he’s not paying attention. My fists tighten inside my leather riding gloves. Images of his smashed skull flash through my mind. But a quick and painless death would be too kind. He deserves slow and painful. What I have in mind resembles torture because he deserves to feel the sting of Winnie’s pain through every inch of his body.

  You can’t kill him until he talks, Trey. And not until you find Winnie.

  I take a deep breath and alternate my footsteps with his. The pattern of my boots hitting the pavement after his makes him slow down and glance over his shoulder.

  “What do you want, Trey?” Ace’s tone is calm, way too calm for what he’s done.

  I flip the shield on the helmet, so he can see my eyes. As soon as he gets a glimpse, his posture changes. This isn’t a friendly visit. I’m not here to fill his pockets with money to pay for Winnie’s shifts or to remind him to keep her fed. This visit is personal.

  I get as close to his face as I can, pressing my helmet against his forehead. He stumbles in the gravel and then squares his shoulders.

  I’m not the least bit intimidated when I say, “You could have any girl in Carillon on that stage, Ace. Why fuck with Winnie?”

  He shrugs, and that pisses me off even more. Winnie’s reputation is on the line. It’s not like he’s asking her to tend the bar or wait tables. He’s making her get onstage and strip. That’ll change her life more than living with Tess ever could. Because one song underneath the lights, and what’s left of her spirit will die. She’s an eight-count away from becoming Tess.

  “You’d better start talking,” I tell him.

  “Because Tess said so,” he spits.

  He’s so full of shit. There’s more to it than Tess. She might be the headliner inside The Whip, but outside those doors, she’s a dime a dozen, and nothing about her is special. The makeup and clothes are all for show—to cover up the person she can’t stand to look at in the mirror.

  “Since when do you do everything Tess says? Last time we talked, you mentioned letting her go if she didn’t get her act together.”

  “Look, Trey,” he says, “it was a business decision. I’m under a lot of pressure from the boss. He’s talking about building another bar, which means this one will get even less of his attention. Once I’m the low man on the totem pole, I’ll be forgotten. So, if I have any hope of surviving in this business, I need some serious cash flow to keep his interest. Tess is the biggest moneymaker we have.”

  “Because she has no inhibitions. No morals. And you know it.”

  He shakes his head and laughs. “I’m not asking anyone to date her. Just to watch her. And it just so happens she’s the one they come here to see. But she’s all banged up, and I told her, if she wanted to keep her job, she had to find a replacement until the bruises healed and the stitches came out of her head—someone who could bring in the same kind of money, if not more. I figured she’d either step up or walk away. If she walked away, I’d find a replacement on my own. But I got lucky, and she stayed sober long enough to figure it out on her own.”

  “Her replacement is seventeen, Ace. Seven-fucking-teen. Winnie’s not legal, and everyone in the damn trailer park knows it. It won’t matter what your boss thinks of the place or where you rank on his list of importance when you’re shut down.”

  “Who the fuck is going to shut us down when there’s fresh pussy on the stage?”

  My plan was to talk this through, but the second he talks about Winnie’s body, my hands are around his neck. The leather from the gloves widens his eyes, and when he realizes I could end it right here, in the parking lot, he starts to panic.

  Before he passes out, I tell him, “If she’s anywhere near that stage, I’ll kill you before the cops get here to shut you down.”

  Ace’s eyes widen, and he grabs at my wrists. The more oxygen he’s deprived of, the weaker he gets. He can barely keep his eyes open. “Okay,” he whispers.

  When I let go, he bends over and coughs so hard, it sounds like there’s a seal in his throat. There’s no use in going toe-to-toe with me when it comes to Winnie. I’ll always find a way to keep her safe. No matter what it costs me.

  Ace isn’t done yet though. He’s a slow learner and the type who always has to have the last word. “What if Winnie wants this for herself?” he asks. “Maybe she wants to be seen, and she’s done hiding behind her protector.”

  Stripping would never be okay with Winnie. Her dreams revolve around paper and fabric, drawings and sewing machines. If he knew her, the real her, he’d know that.

  “Fuck off, Ace.”

  “I’m serious,” he says. “What else does Winnie have going for her? This could be her chance to make a shit-ton of money, move herself out of the park, and focus on something better.”

  That’s all I’ve ever wanted for Winnie—for her to get the hell out of Carillon. As much as I hate to admit it, Ace has a point. If she gets on that stage, she’ll make more, if not double, than what Tess brings in. She’s the perfect mixture of sweet and sexy, innocent yet a little bold. Whether she can dance or not, her looks are enough to keep everyone entertained for hours.

  I’m sure Tess fixed her up, and once those lights hit Winnie’s face, I’ll lose her forever. I’ll lose her to the money. Because, once she has money, she can run as far away as she wants; she can be whoever she wants to be, and she won’t need me anymore.

  “Face it, Trey. Right now, Winnie needs me more than she needs you. Your money is nice while it lasts, but eventually, that’ll end, too. She’s smart enough to realize the only person she can truly depend on is herself.”

  My fingers flex one last time, and then they curl into the tightest fists. I can’t get another breath in, and little white lights explode in front of my eyes. Ace senses it this time and backs up until he’s against the front bumper of his car. The hood’s still hot enough from the engine that his back burns when I shove him down. The sight of him wincing only makes me push against him harder.

  “How do you fucking sleep at night?” I ask him. “You have a daughter. What if that was her about to step onto the stage?”

  His eyes narrow, and I realize I finally hit him where it hurts. He didn’t see it with Winnie, but with his little girl, it’s a hell of a lot more powerful.

  “I wouldn’t let my daughter within a mile of The Whip in the first place.”

  “Winnie’s not my daughter.”

  “Okay,” he says with half a laugh. “If that’s how you want to play it, then I wouldn’t let my girlfriend near it either. I guess that says a lot about you, doesn’t it, Trey?”

  Without thinking, I reel back and knock him square in the jaw. Defenseless, his head swings to the side, and blood shoots out of the corner of his mouth and onto my leather jacket. I take a step back, and while I debate on telling him to wipe it off, I let him stand up.

  He digs into his back pocket, and I assume he’s getting something to wipe the blood off his mouth, but I underestimate Ace. I figured he carried, but a knife? I don’t think he has the slightest clue what to do with one of those.

  “What now, tough guy?” I question with a smirk.

  If a knife is supposed to scare me, he’s going to have to do more than holding it in the air.

  “Maybe I should ask Winnie. She’s the blade expert, isn’t she?”

  “You motherfucker.”

  I’m not sure how Ace found out about Winnie’s cutting. She conceals it well enough, and from what I can tell, she always cuts in the same spot—the top of her thigh. It’s not something she talks about or gives anyone a glimpse of, yet Ace somehow knows. If I find out he so much as picked a piece of lint off her polo shirt while she was at The Whip, I’ll use his own knife to gut him.

  I lunge at him again, and I’ve been in enough fights to anticipate every move he makes with the knife. He’s a shit fighter—all talk with nothing to back it up.

  “Ace!”

  Tess’s high-pitched voice sends chills up my spine like nails on a
chalkboard. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her and Jax rounding the corner and walking across the lot.

  Perfect timing.

  Tess reaches into Jax’s back pocket, but I let go of Ace and have my gun pulled before she has his Glock aimed at my head. Ace knows he can’t compete with guns, and his knife dangles next to his thigh in his limp hand.

  What’s left of this fight is now between me and Tess. But neither Tess nor Jax realizes who I am because of the helmet on my head. They’re still too far away to see my eyes, and they haven’t heard my voice.

  I use it to my advantage and whisper to Ace, “One word, and you’ll die.” And then I pull the shield back down to cover my face and hide behind it. It’s the only way to keep my identity a secret.

  As long as I have a gun in my hand, I trust he’ll keep his mouth shut.

  My eyes are still locked on Jax and Tess. She’s staggering, grasping at nothing, trying to regain her balance. Jax realizes getting the gun out of her unpredictable hand is more important than any threat coming from me.

  “Baby,” he says, “I’ve got it from here. Give me the gun.”

  She shakes her head, and her finger lingers over the trigger. “Nobody’s gonna hurt Ace. Ace is good to me.”

  “Nobody’s hurting Ace. Right?” Jax looks at me, and even though he can’t see my eyes, he somehow thinks whoever’s under the helmet is going to negotiate with him.

  I lower my weapon enough to let Jax know I’m not planning on shooting.

  Ace works with me and says, “Tess, I’m fine. Put the gun down. We can go inside and talk.”

  “You’re lying,” she mumbles.

  When Tess is high, she’s impossible to talk off a ledge. But I’ve never seen her stick up for someone else the way she’s going to bat for Ace. It makes me wonder how involved he is in Tess’s life outside The Whip. How much money is he really giving her, and why? And what else is he involved in?

  “Tess, come inside with me,” Ace tells her.

  She licks her lips and wobbles over to him like a lost puppy who found its way back to its master. It wouldn’t surprise me if they were involved. That girl will do anything if she’s desperate enough, and Ace has way too many connections for her to ever cross him. At this point, he’s her lifeline, the hand that feeds her addiction.