Craving Cecilia (The Aces' Sons 6)

“I don’t know that,” Farrah argued, her voice still soft. “You’ve never given yourself enough credit.”

When Cecilia didn’t respond, Farrah turned forward and settled back in her seat. The cab was quiet beyond the sound of the freeway as Cecilia finished feeding Olive and buckled her back into her seat. Not long after, the sound of Cec’s quiet snores drifted to the front seat.

“You ever think that maybe she’s never given herself enough credit because none of you have, either?” I said finally, the quiet words falling like a bomb between us.

“You got something you want to say?” Farrah asked, her voice both amused and hard at the same time. I was walking into a minefield that I had no business being in, but Christ, I was too fucking old to ignore the bullshit anymore.

I chose my words carefully.

“She’s not the same person she was when we were twenty years old,” I said, switching lanes to pass a car that wasn’t keeping up with the flow of traffic. “And even if she was, all of you acting like she’s some selfish brat is getting real fuckin’ old.”

“You might want to stop there,” Farrah replied flatly.

“Why?” I said with a grunt. “I’ve already started, might as well lay it all out.”

“Oh, please, tell me how I’ve done Cecilia wrong,” Farrah snapped. “I’d love to hear it.”

“I know you love her,” I said, making Farrah laugh derisively. “But Jesus, I’ve never met a group of people so willing to believe the worst about a person.”

“I don’t believe the worst of Cecilia.”

“Don’t you?” I asked, glancing at her. “If Cecilia was saying something shitty, she was the asshole—it didn’t matter who she was speaking to, or what they’d said about her. If she was teasing Lily, she was a bully. If she was making nasty comments, even just to defend herself, she was mean. From what I saw, you gave up on her instead of figuring out why she was doing the shit she was doing.”

“You have no clue what you’re talking about,” Farrah replied.

“Don’t I?” I shook my head. “Who do you think she was talking to back then? It wasn’t you. It wasn’t Casper. It sure as fuck wasn’t Leo.”

I jerked as a hand settled on my shoulder. “Enough, Mark,” Cecilia warned sleepily. “That’s enough.”

I opened my mouth to argue and then snapped it shut. She was right. It wasn’t my place to educate Farrah on all the ways she’d fucked up back then. I knew she’d done her best, slogging through the devastation after the shooting in her back yard and trying to take care of everyone at the same time. Cecilia had told me things in confidence, and even if the promises I’d made were half a lifetime ago, I still needed to keep them to myself.

I reached forward and turned on the radio, gesturing for Farrah to pick a station. Thankfully, the olive branch worked, and she leaned forward to fiddle with the dials. I had a feeling that we weren’t done with our conversation, but at least for a while, we were calling a truce. Once we were out of the truck and Cecilia was out of earshot, I was pretty sure Farrah was going to tear me a new one.

Conversation was spotty for the next couple of hours. Cecilia drifted in and out of sleep, Farrah did word search and crossword puzzles that she’d pulled out of her purse, and I kept my eyes on the road, both ahead and behind us. Cam and Casper switched between leading the way and following behind the truck. Eli’s car and Forrest’s SUV stayed visible, but I didn’t notice any other cars that seemed out of place. Beyond the fact that we were trying to reach Sacramento as soon as possible, it was a pretty uneventful and boring drive.

Just outside Bakersfield, we finally stopped for fuel and so everyone could stretch their legs. As I climbed out of the truck, I kept my head on a swivel. The gas station we’d pulled into was busy, but thankfully, I didn’t see anyone that seemed out of place or seemed to be watching us.

“Wilson’s been tryin’ to reach you,” Forrest said, his mouth set in a grim line as he strode toward me. “Call him.”

Chapter 11

Cecilia

“I need to go to the bathroom,” I told my mom as I handed Olive to her. “Pronto.”

“Alright,” she replied. As I turned to get my supplies out of the truck, she called for my dad. “Cody, we need an escort to the ladies room.”

“Announce it to the world,” I mumbled.

“I knew Casper wasn’t his real name,” Eli said as he walked toward us.

“She’s the only one who calls him Cody,” I replied as I slung my purse over my shoulder. “I wouldn’t try it.”

“Of course not,” Eli said with a shit-eating grin, raising his hands in surrender.