Chapter 5: Mine – Envy

There is always a part of someone who wants what you have. Regardless of what the possession may be money, jewels, friends, family, or just your life in general always remember: "Envy is a symptom of lack of appreciation of our uniqueness and self-worth. Each of us has something to give that no one else has."

He'll never admit it out loud, but every time Callie hugs Armand he feels a pang deep in the pit of his stomach. Every time they share a quiet smile over something that happened between them, every time she grazes her hand over the back of his neck or his arm or the small of his back, every time he makes her laugh in a way that Ace can never make her laugh, he feels the pinprick of jealousy deep down where he shouldn't feel anything at all. And every time he ignores it with a stoicism that he is only able to muster from years spent in the Corp, years spent watching things that churned his insides when his face had to stay like stone.

He feels it every time she wears something wholly work inappropriate, traipses up to his floor with little thought towards decency and the wandering eyes that follow her. She marches across the thin carpet in boots that echo her coming, lab coat trailing behind her in a mockery of modest composure, swirling like the train of a wedding dress, caressing her thighs as she comes to a stop and it flutters back down to hang proper. She stops in front of his desk, catches his eyes as every other pair in the room drinks her in, catalogs the curves of her waist and her breasts, and saves for later the dirty thoughts of black leather-trapped calves and white skin. Every pair except for his that hold her eyes and keep them, unable and un-allowed to look away and take what everyone else is so freely given.

He can't admit that he is jealous of every other man in the building, because it's ludicrous, childish, wrong, dirty, and not even close to a fraction of the truth. He's not just jealous of every man in the building, he's jealous of every man she's ever been with, been near, every man that has shaken her hand, caressed her face, felt the press of her body to his. He is jealous of the world, but to admit that would be too dangerous, and so he sets his face, lets her touch him when she will, lets her touch others as she sees fit, as she so often sees fit, lets her float through life, through a crowd of lecherous gazes and wandering hands and want and need, and dirty dreams that she is most certainly the center of.

He can't admit that he's jealous, that he's envious of every smile she gives every joke that makes her laugh, and every phone call she makes to a number that isn't his. He can't admit that he wants her to himself so bad it burns and claws at his chest like an unwelcome animal that he has not felt in so many years, that maybe he has never felt like this, even when he was young and every passion was new and fueled by the fires of curiosity and ignorance, unaware of the ability to have too much. Now, he finds himself forgetting that there's such an idea as too much of a good thing, throwing logic and reason out the window whenever he catches the barest of hints of her perfume in the air. Now, he finds himself coveting, envying, and sinning even as he sits at his desk and barks orders, commands his team, solves cases, and goes on with life with those around him none the wiser.

Ace Turner is a man of few words, and fewer yet when they're words so dirty, callous, and petty as to embody jealousy. He is, though, a man of action, always a man of action, and he finds himself unable to lie to either of them as she sits on his kitchen table, sinful and aware of his every move, skirt riding high to tease him, just him, shirt and bra already missing. She swings her feet slowly to the music that plays on in the background, music that he can't hear over the rush and pounding of blood in his ears, doesn't care to hear as he slips a hand up and under her skirt and slides her panties down, down her thighs, over her calves, past her ankles and the soles of the boots that would take too much time to take off, too.

There is no gentleness in the thrust of his hips forward, sinking fast and hard into her welcoming heat, shoving up without patience and pulling back, shoving forward, catching the moan that sneaks past her mouth with his own as her eyes widen in surprise. He pulls her forward to meet the uncontrollable force of momentum, and inertia, holds her close, owns her body with his as he can't when they're at work, basks in the knowledge that this, this is his, and only his. Possesses…

It's fast and almost brutal, but she comes with his name on her lips, a gasp of "Ace," to the ceiling, her whole body tightening and flexing and coaxing him over the edge with her, burying his face in her hair with his release.

His knees hit the floor and his face falls forward to rest against the soft flesh of her stomach, warm and flushed from the exertion, and her hands come up to card through his hair. If he opened his eyes and looked up right now he would be able to catch her at her finest, cheeks red, eyes closed gently, smile playing softly at her lips. He's trapped between her thighs and she's leaning back on the table, resting on her elbows, uncaring of the show that she's giving his kitchen. For once he doesn't care either, because it's just the two of them, and it will be for the rest of the night. He doesn't need to look up now, can rest, catch his breath, breathe easy, because until tomorrow, until she leaves ten minutes before he does to avoid suspicion and office politics, he can look at her all he wants, look at all of her, no need to worry about the eyes of others or when he'll next get the chance to have her to himself.

He can let grudges go, forgive those that trespass on his territory, leave invisible fingerprints across her body, and burn their gazes into her flesh. When tomorrow comes the envy will return, and the jealousy will flare up, scalding and bitter at the back of his throat and in the pit of his stomach and every inch in between, but for now, he is at peace.

That was how it began. Now things are so twisted and so tainted because she has returned the one he was married to…

-flashback-

She kissed her way around his neck, going a little harder each time her lips came across that sweet spot where his shoulder and neck met. Adrenaline was pulsing at rapid speed within her body, the mere thought of what waited for her, made her frozen heart skip a beat. Another long lick, touch, and kiss were placed upon her. She was vibrating with excitement, as she waited in anticipating for him to continue with his pleasures hands.

Emerald eyes moved from her face towards the small opening she was revealing each time her short jacket was pushed down. As those eyes met her breast, she let a small moan escape her lips, the thrill going down her spine. When the zipper was a few inches away from exposing her belly button his cold hand made contact with her wrist stopping her from making any movement "Stop, Callie" She lifted her Blue eyes in surprise, at his words. He'd never stopped her before nor what they did every time he wanted to pleasure himself or the other way around. Nothing ever stops him, not even the fact that he already had his mate by his side.

"Why not Ace?"

-end flashback-

Callie watched as the streets passed her by, her feet felt like they would give up in any minute. She nearly dropped the item she had securely in her hands. Her body shuddered but not from the wind. A sinister smile grew on her delicate face.

- flashback-

"I figured you'd react this way," Ace said "That's why I didn't want to go any farther today— you knew it was going to happen, Callie"

"Is not your fault, and is not my fault you got too attached" He narrowed his eyes at her trying to break through her stubbornness. He needed her to accept, and he needed to move on and be with his wife. Her breathing was coming out in quick huffs, her body trembling with the pulsing anger "No" She whispered. Her trembling body shook with so much force that her short jacket that was still open, exposing her breast, fell from her shoulders.

"Your mine Ace and I'm yours, there's no fucking way you're going to leave me for that slut of a wife"

Ace balled his fist towards her. His eyes turned a deeper Green from the rage that was running threw his veins "Watch what you say" He hissed, putting more pressure on his knuckles. He watches her stand her ground against him, barring her own. His anger escalated to a whole new level.

"I don't give a damn what you think, but I don't belong to you"

- end flashback-

The sound of heavy footsteps rang clearly through her sensitive ears. She licks her lips eagerly tasting the salty taste of her tears and the metallic taste of blood.

"There she is! Get her!"

Callie let a hollow laugh erupt from her lips. She lifted her hands, and through the tick tears, she observed the picture in her hands, completely covered in blood.

-flashback-

Ace had his back turn towards her, as he made his way to the motel door, not even bordering on saying goodbye to her. Just taking the frame he had said that belonged to his wife.

Callie stood there in the middle of the room gasping for air. Her vision was already blurry when he was halfway to the room. Her ears were buzzing loudly, and a pounding headache was consuming her better judgment.

She only saw black…And then hell broke loose.

-end flashback-

The louder the footsteps became, the more she laughed. The picture of the two of them was crumbling to the floor. Her whole form shook with her haunting laughter. Her body was consumed with grief, but she couldn't find a way to stop smiling. Even when she knew that they had arrived, she couldn't hear what they said.

She only sees red… and blood. So… much blood. Callie feels something slam into her, squeezing her neck and cutting completely her air supply. She smiled knowing exactly who those hands belong to "You bitch! You kill him!" Her nails dug threw her skin blood mixing with Ace's. She didn't even flinch at her attacker, leaving her hands to her side not even attempting to try and escape.

"Why? Why would you take him away from me?" She screams at her face tears dripping down her face.

The woman tightened her hold on her neck. Callie looked straight at Emerald eyes and gritted her teeth together. She felt disgusted to see that, that woman had the same color of eyes as her beloved. Emerald eyes blaze with fury met her own. Just to provide her with enough space and air so she could speak.

"Answer me, damn it!"

She never did.