Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

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“They’re holed up in Ontario,” Poet announced, dropping down into a chair in church later that night. “Not bein’ quiet about it, the stupid bastards.”

“Why Ontario?” Samson asked.

“Probably because the fuckin’ feds are scouring Idaho for them,” Casper replied.

“So what are we going to do?” Hulk asked, popping his neck. I hated when he did that. Fucking disgusting.

“Rock should be back tomorrow morning,” Dragon said, leaning back in his chair. “We could leave then.”

“Goin’ after them, then,” Hulk murmured.

“Duncan was one of ours,” my dad said quietly. “Might not’a been wearin’ a patch, but he was a good friend to the club for a lotta years.”

“Got his daughter here, too,” Poet pointed out. “Moose’s girl.”

“And she’s beat to shit,” my dad agreed, meeting my eyes. “Can’t let that stand.”

I nodded in thanks.

“Casper, you and Samson’ll stick back on this one,” Dragon said.

“Don’t mind goin’,” Casper replied.

“Know you don’t.” Dragon nodded. “But Grease is comin’ with me and I need you here.”

“Alright.”

“Once Rock gets here tomorrow, we’ll fill him in and take off. Me, Grease, Hulk and Moose. Probably Homer and Shady, too. They’re too good as lookouts to leave behind.”

I inhaled deeply at the thought of getting ahold of the guy that had messed up my woman’s face and broken her arm. I wanted to tear him apart. From what Molly had told Dragon and my dad, the guy was massive, as big as Cam. I was looking forward to teaching him how it felt to be at someone’s mercy, then giving him none.

“Molly’s got her appointment tomorrow, doesn’t she?” my dad asked, breaking me out of my fantasies.

“Yeah, might have to knock her out to set the bone,” I replied. “Probably not, though.”

“Chance of it,” Dad said.

“Yeah.”

“You sure you don’t wanna duck out of this one?”

“You kidding?” I asked, glancing around the table. “I’m there.”

“Alright,” Dad said with a nod.

We went over the route we’d take and the stops we’d make on the way to Ontario, running through different possibilities for the next half hour. We didn’t always plan out every single move we made, but when we were dealing with the Russian mob, we had to make sure all of our shit was tight. Ontario was just this side of the Idaho-Oregon border and was an easy day trip. We’d have to spend the night somewhere on the way back, but we’d be gone less than two days, no problem.

By the time we left the room, I was jacked up at the thought of taking off the next day. I’d been going on runs for the past few years, but none of them had caused adrenaline like I was dealing with then. Those past runs had felt mandatory. Sometimes I’d felt satisfaction that I’d been chosen to go, sometimes I’d been annoyed, but I’d never been practically frothing at the mouth as I waited to leave. If I could have, I would have left the minute I walked out of church.

“Molly and Rebel went to bed,” my mom told me with a sleepy smile. “I think we wore them out today.”

“Molly needs to rest, Mom,” I replied with a frown. I’d spent most of my day in the garage finishing up a car that I’d said would be done the next day. I’d known that shit was going to go down soon, and I wanted to make sure that the owner didn’t have to wait because I hadn’t finished my job.

“She spent the whole day on the couch,” my mom assured me, leaning in to give me a quick hug. “But there’ve been people packing up and leaving all day, so it wasn’t exactly relaxing for her.”

“I need to get her home,” I mumbled, scratching at my beard.

“Well, she can’t go back yet,” my mom said as my dad came up behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Better safe than sorry.”

“She can stay with your mother tomorrow night,” my dad said, making my mom glare at him.

“Of course she can,” she told me, “but you could’ve asked.”

“You pickin’ a fight?” my dad asked with a grin.

I’d heard that a million times growing up. Without a word, I turned and walked away before I had to start watching my dad playing grab ass.

I let myself into my dark room and shut the door behind me, moving around by memory. I almost landed on my face when I tripped over Reb’s bag, but caught myself before I hit the floor.

“You can turn on the light,” Molly’s soft voice called out in the dark. “Rebel won’t wake up.”

I reached over and flipped on the lamp. Molly was laying on the outside of the bed facing my way, her hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head.

“Nice hair,” I said quietly, sliding my cut down my shoulders.