Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons #2)

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  I had to force myself not to get in Jan’s space as she prepped the IV site, but I couldn’t stop myself from rounding the bed. “Should it be in her foot?” I asked, immediately clamping my lips shut when my dad shot me a look.

  “If I thought it would work better, I’d do it,” Jan said softly. “But, no. Arm will work just fine, mama.”

  It was over quickly, and Reb barely flinched, relaxing back against the bed before Jan had even applied the tape to keep the IV in place.

  “All set,” Jan said, cleaning up the supplies.

  “Thanks, Jan,” I said quietly, leaning down to kiss Rebel’s head.

  “No problem, honey. I’m the same way when my kids go to the hospital. Celeste broke her arm last year and I wouldn’t let Doctor Marv set it,” she said softly, giving me a sympathetic smile. “We know what’s best for our kids, probably more than most.”

  She left the room just as Rebel’s primary care doctor came into the room.

  “How’s she doing?” Doctor Mendez asked, moving forward to get a good look at Rebel.

  “She’s good,” I said, a feeling of relief rushing through me. I knew all of the people who’d come into the room since we’d been admitted that morning, but Doctor Mendez knew Rebel. None of the others had watched her grow. They didn’t know her history. They hadn’t checked for ear infections, or noticed that there was something wrong with her eyesight. They hadn’t calculated her growth and cheered at every benchmark she’d reached since she was a newborn. To those people, my coworkers, she was just another patient. I understood it. But she wasn’t just another patient to Doctor Mendez. Rebel was her patient.

  “I won’t be doing the procedure, but I’ll be there the whole time,” Doctor Mendez said, holding my gaze. “I won’t leave her for a moment.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. She didn’t have to show up that morning, but when I’d taken Rebel in to get her ears checked the day before and she’d seen what a wreck I was, she’d promised she’d be there.

  “Looks like I’m with you this morning,” Jan announced to Doctor Mendez as she came back into the room.

  “Great.” Doctor Mendez glanced at me. “I heard you kicked one of the nurses out.”

  “She sucks. I’ve worked with her before,” I said, holding my ground. They could bitch all they wanted. If Samantha went anywhere near Rebel, I was going to find her in the dark parking lot after a nightshift.

  Doctor Mendez laughed lightly. “Okay, then.” She nodded. “You ready?”

  “Are you?” I asked seriously.

  “Easy peasy,” she replied with a reassuring smile.

  I took a deep breath and leaned down to kiss Rebel again. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, boo,” I whispered. She didn’t stir.

  I leaned back up, nodded once, and before I could change my mind, Jan was kicking off the brakes on the bed and rolling Rebel out of the room.

  “I’ll come get you as soon as we’re done. Quick in and out. We’ll be back before you can finish your coffee.”

  “Not quite,” I said tightly.

  “Pretty damn close,” she shot back. “And then no more ear infections.”

  She walked out of the room and as soon as she was gone, I staggered backward into Mel.

  “You’re good,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “Now, let’s get out of this room for a few minutes. You’re going to be in here for hours until Rebel’s released. No use staring at these walls longer than you have to.” She gave me a little shove and I started forward, pausing only slightly as my dad wrapped his arm around my shoulders and escorted me out of the room.

  “Less bloodshed than I’d imagined,” he said as we hit the hallway and turned toward the waiting room. “Nice work.”

  An hour later, when I was close to losing my shit, Doctor Mendez found us in the little surgical waiting room.

  “Everything went well,” she said before she’d even come to a stop. “No problems with the anesthesia and the tubes were placed easily.”

  “Is she off everything?” I asked, moving toward her. I’d already been on my feet. By that point, they were aching from all the pacing I’d been doing.

  “Everything but the IV,” she said with a nod. “But you knew they wouldn’t take that out right away.”

  “Is she in her room?”

  “Jan was taking her there, and I came to find you. By the time you get there, she’ll be there—” The words were barely out of her mouth before I was calling thank you over my shoulder and racing down the hallway.

  It had been the longest hour of my life. Longer than the hour I’d waited for news on Mason after someone had told me he’d collapsed on the football field. Longer than the last hour of labor.

  I was shaking with relief when I got to Rebel’s room and found Jan tucking her more securely into the bed she was in.

  “Didn’t want to leave her until you got here, since they didn’t put her in a damn crib like they should have,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Thank you,” I said tearfully as I rounded Rebel’s bed and climbed up next to her.

  “No problem,” Jan said as she threw some trash away and moved for the door. “She’ll be waking up soon I bet, but she’ll be groggy—you probably already know that.” She laughed and left the room.

  “You did it,” I whispered, curling my body around Rebel’s. “Good job, baby.”

  I closed my eyes and shuddered, wrapping my arm around Reb’s body, careful not to jostle her.

  A few minutes later, I opened my eyes as Mel and my dad came quietly into the room. They’d been awesome during the surgery, talking to each other and to me, but not expecting me to answer. I’d been like a zombie, completely unable to function until I’d known that Rebel was okay. They were just . . . there. Exactly like I’d needed them to be.

  Exactly the way I’d needed Will to be. I shook my head once. I was done worrying where the hell Will had disappeared to.

  “Everything good?” my dad asked as he sat down in the chair by the bed.

  “Yeah.” I sighed. Everything was good. I let my eyes drift shut again. I was so fucking tired. I guessed that was what happened when you stayed up the entire night worrying.

  The sound of a camera made my eyes shoot open, and I glanced at Mel, who was messing with her phone.

  “Sorry, I forgot to turn the stupid sound off,” she mumbled.

  “What’re you doing?” I asked groggily.

  “Commemorating Rebel’s first successful surgery,” Mel said, smiling.

  “Only surgery,” I corrected.

  “Of course.”

  “Look at me,” my dad ordered. When I looked up, he took a photo, too. I groaned as the flash burned my eyes.

  “Whoops,” he said, messing with his phone.

  “Jesus, Gramps,” Mel teased. “I think it’s bright enough in here without the flash.”

  “Oh, now I’m a grandpa?” my dad said drolly. “Not ten minutes ago you were—”

  “Stop right there,” I snapped, lifting my head off the bed. “I can’t deal with any more bullshit today.”

  Mel snorted loudly and Reb jerked awake.

  “Finally,” I said, smiling down at my bleary-eyed baby. “Good morning, sunshine. Did you have a good nap?”

  She looked at me for only a second before her eyes shot down to the IV in her arm, and before I could stop her, she’d ripped it out and was howling in pain.

  “Shit!” I hissed, scrambling up to my knees.

  “We need a nurse!” Mel yelled into the hallway as I gripped Reb’s arm, my thumb putting light pressure on the IV site.

  “I am a fucking nurse,” I mumbled as Jan came running into the room. “I knew something like this was going to happen.”

  Chapter 12

  Will

  By the time we’d pulled onto club grounds Saturday morning, I was a fucking nervous wreck. Molly had called and texted when we were on the road to Montana, but I hadn’t heard a word from her since. I had no idea how R
eb’s surgery had gone and it was driving me insane.

  I wasn’t going to call Molly. I’d already decided that when I left Tuesday morning. Nothing could come of it. She brought up too much old shit, made me feel like I was being pulled in too many different directions. With her apathy for the club, there was no way we could have worked long term. It was better that I’d made a clean break.

  “Hey,” Dragon’s teenage son, Leo, called as we shut off our bikes. He was underneath one of the picnic tables out front messing with the joints.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Cam called, doing a squat to stretch his knees. It had been a long day.

  “Tightenin’ up these tables,” he called back. “Lil sat on one earlier and it was so fuckin’ wobbly, she almost ended up on her ass.”

  “Good man,” Samson said, kicking Leo’s boot as we passed him.

  “Your sister here?” Cam asked.

  “Nah, she’s at your house with the boys.”

  We filed into the clubhouse, and I immediately started rubbing my hands together, trying to get some warmth into them. It had been a cold and miserable ride back from Montana. Some places we rode though had fucking snow.

  “Hey, son,” my dad said, coming up behind me as I headed for the coffee maker. Since it was Saturday and the weather was shit, there were a ton of people crowded in around us. Men were bullshitting, playing pool, and it looked like someone had started up a poker game in the corner. They were going to wish they hadn’t once Samson realized they were there and sat down with them.

  “Hey, Dad,” I said, giving him a nod as I grabbed a cup of coffee from some woman playing bartender. She must have been new because I’d never seen her before. Long, light brown hair brushed her tits as she moved, and my eyes got caught for a second before I turned away.

  “Everything good?” Dad asked, leaning against the bar next to me.

  “Yep, they thought we were nuts for ridin’ up. They had no plans on working with the Russians to begin with,” I scoffed. Dad probably already knew that since we’d been in constant contact with him since we’d left town. It still irritated the fuck out of me, though. It had been a completely useless trip. “How’s Rock?”

  “He’s fine.” Dad motioned with his head toward the corner, where Rock was hanging with Mel. Ah, Christ. “He’s been giving names to Duncan as he remembers, but it’s takin’ longer than they thought.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it was his damn wedding. He was plastered and eager to fuck his wife, so he’s havin’ a hard time rememberin’ everyone who was there,” Dad said with a grimace.

  “You think he’s draggin’ his feet?”

  “Nah, I think he just wants to make sure he doesn’t leave anyone out, since his deal with them depends on the names he gives.”

  “Makes sense,” I mumbled.

  “How’s your girl’s baby doin’?” Dad asked, making me jerk in surprise.

  “Don’t know,” I said, taking a long pull of my coffee and burning the shit out of my mouth.

  “You don’t know?”

  “That’s over.” I froze when Dad grimaced and shook his head. “What?”

  “Your ma took over a couple of Rosie’s old dolls this mornin’,” he said with a huff.

  “Fucking fantastic,” I hissed, running a hand over my face. “And?”

  “Far as I know, Molly didn’t say anything. She just thanked your ma, gave her some coffee and that was it.”

  My stomach clenched at the thought of Molly not hearing from me for days then having to deal with my mother. “Is Mom here?”

  “Nah, she’s at home with the girls,” he answered, referring to Lily and Rose. If they weren’t at our house, they were together at Casper and Farrah’s place. They’d always been really close, but I wasn’t sure if they’d spent a day apart since the day Lily had gone blind.

  “Alright,” I said, setting my mug on the bar. “I’ll stop by later and let Mom know what’s up.”

  “Probably a good idea, seeing as how she was planning on stopping by Molly’s with dinner tomorrow,” he said dryly.

  “Christ.” I walked away and without thought, found myself moving toward Mel and Rocky.

  Mel was on Rock’s lap and they were talking quietly when I sat down at their table. Before I could even open my mouth, Mel’s head was turning toward me and her entire body had stiffened.

  “All good?” Rock asked nonchalantly, his arm tightening around Mel’s waist.

  “Yep,” I answered, wishing I hadn’t put my coffee down so I’d have something to do with my hands. “Mel,” I greeted.

  She glared at me for a long moment before Rocky nudged her and she replied, “Will.”

  “How’s Reb?” I didn’t want to ask. I wanted to make a clean break. But I couldn’t stop worrying about the kid.

  Mel pulled her phone out without answering, and I waited impatiently as she messed with it for a minute before setting it down on the table between us. “She’s fine,” Mel said emotionlessly.

  I didn’t reply. I couldn’t make myself say anything at all. Right there on her phone was a photo of Molly and Rebel in a hospital bed. Reb was sleeping, her mouth barely hanging open and an IV in her arm. She looked okay. Really fucking small in that hospital bed, but fine otherwise.

  It was Molly that caught my attention. She looked like she hadn’t slept since the night I’d been with her. There were dark circles around her eyes, and her face was drawn with exhaustion. Her arm was lying over Reb’s belly, and she was pretty much curled around the baby, her knees pulled up under Reb’s feet and her head lying on the pillow, her lips pressed against Rebel’s head.

  “That was before Reb woke up and ripped her IV out of her arm and all hell broke loose,” Mel said, laying her hand over the phone and pulling it back across the table.

  “She alright?” I asked roughly, scratching at my beard. My heart was pounding and I could feel a headache starting at the base of my skull. Everything I felt showed on my face, and I knew it. I wanted to fucking run from that table, but I couldn’t let Mel see that she’d gotten to me.

  “She’s fine now,” Mel replied, stuffing her phone back in her purse.

  “And Moll?”

  “She’s fine, too.”

  “Good.”

  “Yep.”

  I glanced up to see her staring. “Thought you’d be ripping my head off about now,” I mumbled.

  “I don’t have to,” she said quietly. “This is your place, so it’s not like I could do much anyway, but I don’t have to rip your head off.”

  “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”

  “Because you’re done. It doesn’t matter what you do from here. You could go straight to Molly’s, but it wouldn’t make a difference. She won’t see you.” She wrapped her arms across her chest and sat up straighter. “You fucked yourself over far worse than anything I could do to you.”

  She couldn’t have stunned me more if she’d reached across the table and punched me in the face. And the way her words came so easily, like she was talking about the weather, made it that much worse. She wasn’t trying to convince me. She didn’t need to. Because she was completely confident that Molly was done with me.

  It was what I’d wanted, wasn’t it?

  I sat there silently, seeing nothing as Mel asked Rock to take her home. I didn’t move when they got up from the table, and I didn’t acknowledge Rock when he cuffed my shoulder as they walked away. I’d wanted to be done with Molly. It was for the best. We weren’t working.

  Except that we had been. We’d worked. Shit had been easy with us. No drama, no games.

  As I sat there at the table, I realized that somewhere in the back of my mind, I’d convinced myself that if I could find a way to have the club and Molly, I’d get her back. She loved me. She hadn’t said it, but I knew she did. I hadn’t really let myself believe that what I was doing was final.

  The chair across from me screeched across the floor and I glanced up to find Poet, the former vice-preside
nt of the club, sitting down across from me. The guy was grizzled as shit and had given up his seat when the old president, Slider, had died in the shooting at our barbeque. He’d said he just didn’t want the title without his best friend at the helm. We’d all understood it. He stuck around, though, still part of the club. Hell, his daughter was married to the current president, so it wasn’t as if he’d have gone far anyway.

  “You okay, boyo?” he asked gruffly, leaning forward on his elbows.

  “Probably not,” I said derisively.

  “Woman troubles, eh?”

  “I fucked up.”

  “We all fuck up,” he said with a laugh. His face lost all humor when I didn’t crack a smile. “Well, it can’t be as bad as all that.”

  I said nothing, just held his eyes across the table.

  “I think we need a drink,” he said confidently, lifting up his arm and waving it from side to side to get the bartender’s attention. In just a few minutes, the brunette from the bar was setting two shot glasses on the table with a bottle of expensive whiskey that only Poet bothered with. “Thank you,” Poet said politely.

  At any other time, I would have laughed at his good manners, but I didn’t then.

  After he’d poured our first shots and we’d knocked them back, Poet began to speak. “You’ve probably heard my story, eh?” he said, pouring more whiskey into our glasses. “It’s a bit of a tale now, getting passed on like a game of telephone since you were a babe.”

  “I’ve heard pieces,” I said quietly, taking another shot.

  “Ah, well, then. You probably haven’t heard the best and worst parts.” He took his shot, immediately filling the glasses again, and began to tell his story. Halfway through telling me about his life in Ireland before he’d come to the US, his wife, Amy, came and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. She didn’t protest as he pulled her down onto his knee and continued speaking, and soon, both of them were telling me the story from their own points of view.

  Because it wasn’t just Poet’s story. It was Amy’s, too. Even though they’d been apart for thirty years of their marriage, the story very much belonged to both of them. I tried not to cringe as they described their flight from Ireland and all the things that had gone wrong, but I took two shots as Amy quietly glossed over her time in Ireland after Patrick had left. That’s what she called Poet—Patrick. And the way she said it made her sound like the teenager she’d once been.