Craving Vera (The Aces' Sons 4.5)

“Shh,” I said as she sobbed into my neck. “It’s alright, baby. It’s gonna be alright.”

“They said,” she hiccupped. “That there was an accident.”

“What kind of accident?” I asked. Her grandmother didn’t drive. Was she riding with someone? Vera’s parents? I was kind of surprised my mom hadn’t called.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “But they said she—” Her body heaved. “That she wasn’t going to make it.”

“Fuck,” I breathed, pressing my lips against Vera’s head.

What a fucking blow. My poor woman was already dealing with so much shit, this was fucking overkill. Vera’s face had healed, and she didn’t limp when she walked anymore, but inside, she wasn’t nearly as healthy. I didn’t know anyone else that could sit inside a nearly empty house all day, doing nothing without getting bored or going stir crazy. She’d holed up and stayed that way. It wasn’t normal.

“I need to go see her,” she said, shaking.

“I’ll take you,” I said instantly. I figured it was obvious, but I didn’t want her making plans to take a bus or something. No way was she going up there without me.

“Can we go now?” she asked.

“Yeah.” I let her go and brushed her hair out of her face. “Should probably shower and change first,” I said gently. She was still in her nightgown.

“Right,” she replied quietly.

I followed her into the house and dropped onto the couch while she went into the bathroom. When the shower went on, I dropped my head back and looked at the ceiling. Jesus, what a mess.

We’d gone out of our way to keep her off the radar down here, and the cops finally seemed to accept that I didn’t know where she was, and now we were driving right back into the bullshit. I knew I had to brace for what we would be dealing with when we got there, but I was stuck remembering the way she’d felt against me. Maybe that made me an asshole, but it was the truth. It had been weeks since she’d touched me but the second I’d gotten there she was in my arms. I probably shouldn’t have put any importance on that, but I did. When she was upset, she came to me. I decided to ignore the fact that I was the only person she knew.

“Are we taking the bike?” she asked, coming out a few minutes later. She’d pulled her hair back from her face in a braid, and she was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt we’d found at a garage sale. Second hand shit really shouldn’t have been that attractive.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Grab the jacket I got you.”

“I told you it was too expensive,” she said, walking into the bedroom.

“You need it,” I called.

“I can wear my other coat.”

“No,” I stood up as she came back into the room and almost swallowed my tongue. “The leather’ll protect your skin,” I rasped.

Things being what they were, I didn’t say anything else, but goddamn I wanted to tell her how good she looked. The jacket I’d bought her fit her like a second skin, and paired with the jeans and boots she was stuffing her feet into, she didn’t look like the girl I’d met at the beginning of summer anyway. She looked like mine.

“Yo, Charlie?” Doc’s voice came through the screen door. “You decent?”

“No,” I replied, rounding the couch to open the screen. “But I’m dressed. What are you doin’ here?”

“Manny showed up at the clubhouse right after you left,” he said with a shrug, handing me a piece of paper. “Lucky for you.”

“What’s this?” I asked. My mouth dropped open as I read it.

“Whoa,” Doc said, whistling at Vera. “Look at you.”

“Hi Doc,” she replied. “What’s that Charlie?”

My tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth as she poked her head around me and read the paper.

“This says we’re married,” she said in confusion.

“Yeah,” I muttered, swallowing hard as I glared at Doc. “It does.”

Chapter 19

Rose

Present Day

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I silenced it. Again. God, why did I keep picking men that were just plain shitty? I always had good intentions, plans to pick a guy that was solid, one who worshipped me so much that I never had to wonder where I stood, but inevitably I gravitated toward the ones that played it cool.

Of course, playing it cool was really just a euphemism for not giving a shit. I was a fucking cliché, a woman who went after bad boys thinking she could change them and then left broken hearted when she failed. It was ridiculous and humiliating.

My phone went off again, and I powered it down completely, focusing on the conversation at the table. I’d missed a pretty big chunk of the story, but it wasn’t hard to get caught up.

“No he didn’t,” Brenna said in astonishment, laughing.