Red
Wine & late chats

C H A P T E R F O R T Y

I spent all day with Grace, we played with toys, we made more crafts and we ate all the delicious food that Ace cooked for us. He was surprisingly domesticated, someone completely different to the person I met in the club.

“It’s about fairies, two girls replace them and capture them on camera.” Grace explained as I settled down on the sofa to watch some dumb kids film. She jumped down into the spot next to me and cuddled up into my body, resting her head on my shoulder. I instantly tensed with discomfort.

“Uh Grace, not everyone is tactile. You want to maybe give her some room to breathe?” Ace spoke softly, he looked uncomfortable too.

“It’s okay.” I lied and relaxed myself.

She was just a kid.

Why was I being so weird about this?

No, it wasn’t Grace.

It was everything.

The warm glow from the fire reflecting on our faces, the Christmas tree I never got to have, the way Ace rested his white socks on the coffee table as he watched the movie, the fuzzy feeling Grace gave me as she held me tightly.

It was blissful and happy, I missed it already and I hadn’t even destroyed it yet.

Halfway through the movie, small breathing noises sounded beside me and a trail of wetness coated my arm. I looked down and Grace had her eyes closed and her little mouth open.

“Uh Ace, your kid is drooling on my arm.” Ace diverted his vision from the television on to me. He had the decency to look a little embarrassed. His cheeks actually blushed slightly.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He stood up and lifted her from me. “I’ll take her up to bed.” He practically jogged out of the room.

I wiped my arm down and walked over to the Christmas tree.

It was sweet, salt dough decorations in Santa faces and snowmen hung from the branches. Photos framed by twigs hung from others. There were baubles and ribbons, pasta ornaments and snowflakes.

We didn’t do Christmas, I couldn’t even remember Christmas from before my mom died and yet I still missed it.

“You want wine?” I smiled at the doorway.

“Fuck, yes.”

“Red or-?” He showed the bottle and empty glasses.

“Red is fine.” I confirmed.

He re-sat in the same place, but being here without Grace seemed different now.

Things felt awkward and I knew he could feel it too. It was stupid, I had been alone with Ace so many times but that was always filled with threats, fighting or sex. This was just us and I didn’t know what to fill the gap with.

“I never had a Christmas.” I admitted, pointing sheepishly at the Christmas tree.

“Never?” He asked with surprise.

“I think I did when I was really young, younger than Grace but I can’t remember. My mom used to do Christmas but after she died my dad never did. We didn’t have a Christmas tree, no gifts, no dinner, no family gathering.” I sat back down on the sofa.

“That’s really sad, I guess.”

“Not really, some cultures and religions don’t do Christmas at all.” I shrugged it off but it was sad. I think I would’ve liked Christmas and I envied Grace.

“Right.” He agreed. “Well did you do thanksgiving at least?” I laughed, it was a little bitter though. He didn’t get it.

“Ace, we didn’t do anything. We trained long hours every day. I shot my first kill at eight years old. I didn’t have toys only medic dolls and shooting targets. I lived and breathed for the mafia.

When I wasn’t training I was fucked up. I had been kidnapped, beaten, and stabbed. I watched them do the same to my mom and kill her. I lay with her dead body for days if not weeks until someone found me. I was always so dangerously emotionally disconnected from the world, I think I still am.”

“Fuck Red, I’m so sorry about all of that. For how your father chose to raise you, for what my father did to you, for what we did to you.”

“You’re not Titus.” I clamped my mouth closed. I had spoken those words without even thinking. Just a absentminded reaction to something he said, it was the first time I realised I didn’t blame Ace for what happened to me.

“No, no I’m not.” Ace followed up with, awkwardly poking at the thread on the sofa arm.

“But you did kill the rest of my family.”

“Yes, yes I did.” He looked away.

“Can I ask you something?” He nodded. “Do you regret that?” He didn’t answer but his face told me that he didn’t. “You don’t?”

“I would do anything to protect Grace. Everything I do, everyone I kill is for her.”

“Don’t you ever feel guilty?”

“I’m the mafia leader Red, I gotta make the difficult decisions.” He paused to think about the question. “But yeah, I do... a lot. You?”

“Oh yeah, sure. Of course.” I answered fast. He laughed, a big beautiful smile and the sound of

his laughter warmed me up more than the fire.

“You don’t, do you?”

“No.” I admitted. Not anymore at least.

I stood up and paced over to the fireplace, picking up a framed photograph of Gracie and trailing my thumb over the glass. Ace watched me carefully, sipping his wine. “So, you have a daughter.”

“I do.”

“How did you hide her away from the world?” He rested his stalk white socks back up on the coffee table and set his glass down. “I mean, my father declared me dead. He got me a whole new identity.”

“We never registered the pregnancy or birth. Technically, Grace doesn’t even count as a human living on this earth.

I wear masks at the club not to hide my emotions but to hide my face. If anyone ever spotted me out with Grace, I don’t want to be recognised. Which is why it was such a big deal to me when I took it off for you.

It felt like I was giving you this huge piece of me, risking everything and look how that turned out.”

“So who exactly knows about her?” He hesitated.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be taking about this with you.” I laughed.

“It’s a little late to hold out on the details now Ace.” I came to sit beside him and he lifted his arm so I could cuddle into his chest. I could hear his heart ticking away, reminding me of his heart defect.

“For a long time just me, Adrian and unfortunately her mom.” He stiffened beneath me. “Now, a lot more people. More than I’m comfortable with. I got people after her who don’t even know what they’re after.”

“She’s valuable because she’s the only way to get to you.”

“Right, the only way.” He repeated.

“Anyone got close?” He looked at me blankly for a few seconds.

“You mean, has anyone ever successfully followed me back here and broke in, held a gun to my head while she slept on my lap?”

“Yes.”

“Just you.” I bit back a smile, proud of myself. He nudged me with his foot playfully and I laughed.

Ace stood up and held his hand out for me.

“Let’s go to bed.”