Craving Molly (The Aces' Sons 2)

I stepped forward and plucked Rebel from the bed as she tried to crawl up her mom’s legs.

“Hey, princess,” I said softly as I sat her on my forearm. “Mama’s busy. You want to hang out with me for a bit?”

Rebel stared at me through a little pair of black glasses. I guessed she’d outgrown the purple rubbery ones she’d worn before. I wondered vaguely if Molly had kept them.

“Will,” she said simply, tilting her head to the side.

“Rebel,” I murmured back.

She ran her hand down her neck, telling me she was thirsty. Yeah, even in the midst of all the bullshit, I was pretty damn proud I understood her still.

“Hey, Moll?” I called softly, watching Rebel as her gaze moved around the room. “Reb’s thirsty, so I’m gonna take her to get something to drink.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, her voice faint. The women were helping her get cleaned up, their quiet voices soothing, but I just wanted all of them to leave so I could see Molly’s face. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted everyone to leave so I could lock us in my room. Just us. Me, Molly and Rebel.

I jerked in surprise then went completely still as little fingers burrowed into my beard. Oh, God. I’d missed them.

Chapter 15

Molly

“I was wondering why you hadn’t shown up toni—” Doctor Lewin’s words cut off as he looked up from my chart.

I moved my head to the side and shrugged my sore shoulders. “Hey, Mike.”

“What the hell happened?” he said, taking in my bruised face and hurt arm.

“Four wheeler accident,” I said flatly, holding his gaze as his eyebrows lifted in disbelief.

Will shifted in his seat, and Mike’s head jerked toward him in surprise. I guess he hadn’t noticed Will and Amy when he’d walked into the room, which was believable. He tended to have a one-track mind when it came to his job, and if he wasn’t working on someone, he didn’t even acknowledge them.

“That’s Will and Amy,” I said, pulling Mike’s gaze back to mine.

“I’d like to speak with Molly in private,” Mike directed at my posse, making me snort.

“Ms. Duncan,” Will said darkly.

“What?”

“She’s your patient, she’s Ms. Duncan.”

“Will, knock it off,” I interrupted. If my eyes hadn’t felt like they were going to fall out of my head at any moment, I would have rolled them. “Let’s just get this over with. Will isn’t going to leave and my arm is killing me.”

“It’s definitely broken,” Mike said as he moved closer to the bed. “I can see that from here.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” I mumbled, hissing as he gently lifted my arm.

“Ah, now that you’re a patient, you can give me shit, huh?” Mike asked in amusement as Will got to his feet. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as I met his eyes and glared. I didn’t need him hovering, and he could shove any misplaced jealousy he had up his ass.

“I always give you shit,” I shot back at Mike, not looking away from Will.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite nurse,” Mike replied. He had no idea how close he was to having his ass handed to him. Amy put her hand on Will’s side and said something quietly to him, making him sit back down.

“You say that to all the nurses,” I replied as Mike laid my arm back in my lap.

He checked out the rest of my injuries briskly, but I could tell that he was worried. He was playing it cool, but he wasn’t convinced that I was telling the truth, and I was pretty sure that having a biker and an old hippie in my room didn’t help matters. They stood out like sore thumbs.

“Let’s get you down to X-ray and see what we’re working with,” Mike said finally. “It looks like the rest of this stuff is superficial.”

I’d already figured that much out myself. After Will and Trix had taken Rebel to get something to drink earlier, the women had helped me change and cleaned up all of my little cuts and bruises. There had been shockingly little damage done, even though it felt like I’d been hit by a truck. I’d felt almost embarrassed after they’d cleaned me up and we’d seen how bad the damage wasn’t. The man who’d hit me had hands the size of baseball gloves, so he had to have been holding back, at least until he’d broken my arm.

When I’d apologized for the fuss, the women had looked at me like I’d lost my mind. Then Amy said something I’d never forget. “A woman lives in fear every day of her life that a man will use his strength against her. It’s an intrinsic truth. It’s not even a conscious thought, that fear, just basic instinct. It’s why we double-check locks and search dark parking lots as we walk to our cars at night. Your level of injury does not change the fact that what you feared has come to pass. You were hurt by someone bigger and stronger than you. Every woman in this room has been there. You’re not alone.”