Craving Cecilia (The Aces' Sons 6) - Page 13

“Everything alright?” Mark asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table.

“We’re good,” I said with a nod. I lifted the diapers and cocked my head to the side.

“Under the kitchen sink.”

I nodded again and moved to throw them away.

“That’s Wilson sitting on my counter,” Mark said. “Eli’s the one sitting on a stool like a normal person, and Grizzly Adams here is Forrest.”

Looking at the group, I wanted to explain to them how scared I’d been, how I still felt shaky, how I was trying to think of anything else except the fact that my best friend was dead on the floor of the house she’d dreamed about her entire life and it all felt like such a gigantic waste. I wanted to tell them that I didn’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t showed up when they did. That even though I had talked myself into believing that I’d do whatever I had to in order to get me and the baby girl out of there safely, history had shown that fear paralyzed me and I probably would’ve stayed in that closet forever.

Instead, when I opened my mouth, the only thing that came out was, “Nice to meet you guys. Thank you so much for tonight.”

“Our pleasure,” Eli said.

“While I wouldn’t say it was pleasurable, per se,” Wilson countered, “I would say that it was satisfying. You’re welcome.”

I stared at him for a second. He looked like a normal guy. In his twenties. Short hair. Dressed in black like everyone else. But his speech was almost formal, and I couldn’t detect an accent.

“Glad we got you two out safe,” Forrest said in his southern drawl. “Unfortunate that we got there too late for the party, though.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Only one man there when we showed,” he explained, leaning back in his seat. “And he was already on his way out with a box of shit.”

“It was a robbery?” My mind swirled with confusion. Had I hid upstairs while some random druggy killed my friends? If there was only one person, I could’ve done something. I could have stopped him. Familiar guilt and shame rolled over me like a wave.

“No,” Mark said, shaking his head. “The box wasn’t filled with shit he could hock or sell.”

“Your friends had expensive taste,” Wilson added. “But nothing of any value was touched. Her engagement ring and earrings were still on.”

“Husband’s Rolex and cufflinks were, too,” Eli said.

“We’re real sorry about your friends,” Forrest said gently. “By the time we got there, they were gone.”

Raising my fingers to my forehead, I rubbed at the headache forming above my eyes. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. The memory of Liv’s scream replayed over and over.

“Has your pop called?” Mark asked, watching me closely.

“I don’t think so,” I replied, reaching down to check my phone. “Shit. It was still on silent and I missed it.”

“He’ll call again,” he said.

“Yeah.” Just as the silence grew long enough to be uncomfortable, my phone rang. “Speak of the devil,” I said.

I turned toward the living room as I answered.

“Hey, Dad.”

“You’re okay?” he asked.

“I’m okay. We’re at Woody’s house now.”

“Thank Christ.”

“How far away are you?” I asked, anxious for them to arrive.

“We won’t be there until early afternoon,” he replied. “But we’re making good time. Might be able to shave a little time off.”

“Be careful and don’t rush,” I said quickly.

“Don’t worry about us,” he murmured. He sounded tired. “We’ll be there as soon as we can, Bumblebee.”

“Okay,” I whispered, my throat tight. God, I just wanted them to get there. It had been years since I’d been so homesick for my parents.

“Your mom says she loves you,” he said. “I’d put her on the phone, but then we’d never get out of here.”

“It’s okay.”

“We’ll see you soon, baby.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he said before the line went dead.

I took a minute to compose myself before turning around to face the men again. Shaking my phone side to side, I attempted to smile, but I was pretty sure it was wobbly as hell. I walked back toward the kitchen, but when I met Mark’s eyes, my footsteps faltered.

I couldn’t interpret the look on his face.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you call me Woody,” he said quietly. His lips tipped up at the corners, and suddenly, it was as if we were the only two people in the room. I knew that look. I’d seen it a million times. I used to crave it like a drug addict. A Mark Eastwood addict. My belly swooped, like I was on the downward slide of a roller coaster.

Oh, shit.

Chapter 4

Mark

“I’m uncomfortable with the amount of emotion in this room right now,” Wilson muttered seriously to Eli, making him laugh.

“We only have two diapers left,” Cecilia said suddenly, glancing at Wilson as she readjusted the baby in her arms. “And almost out of wipes.”

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