Craving Cecilia (The Aces' Sons 6)

“Cec?” I’d called as they both dropped. I knew I hadn’t hit her, but she didn’t respond.

That’s when all hell had broken loose and men began pouring out of the bedrooms, most of them naked and armed to the teeth. The sound of gunshots inside the compound wasn’t unheard of, but inside the clubhouse? That was something else entirely.

Cecilia hadn’t answered me when I lifted her into my arms and sat down on the bed so I could pull the blankets off of Olive. She’d just reached for the baby, pulling Olive against her chest in relief.

It had been an hour since I’d found her, and she still hadn’t said a word—not while Forrest looked her over, not while her mom paced back and forth trying to settle Olive down, not even when her dad came and knelt in front of her, asking if she was okay.

She was with it. Her eyes were clear, even if her face was badly bruised, and she hadn’t lost consciousness at any point, but she wasn’t speaking. She wasn’t making a single sound, even though I knew it must’ve hurt like a motherfucker for Forrest to stitch up her side.

Wiping a hand over my forehead, I grimaced. I’d broken out in a cold sweat the minute I’d seen Cecilia being attacked, and while I was no longer cold, I was still sweating like I’d just finished working out. It was fucking disgusting.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” Eli murmured, setting his hand on my shoulder.

I nodded. “I’m gonna go have a chat with Eli, baby,” I told Cecilia, brushing her hair back from her face. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come before getting to my feet. We’d been in Casper and Farrah’s room while everyone searched the grounds, and I was happy to take a step away for a few minutes. The air in there was thick with worry and fear and helplessness. My job had been to guard Cecilia and make sure she was alright, and I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, but it was still hard as fuck not to be one of the ones searching.

“Yo, we’re not finding anything,” Eli said quietly. “Not a single fucking thing. Nothing on the security videos, no holes cut in the fence, not a single member that remembers seeing anything out of the ordinary.”

“How is that possible?” I muttered.

“You know how it’s possible,” Eli said apologetically. “They’ve got someone here.”

“Nope.” I shook my head.

“Look, man, I know you got history with this place,” Eli replied. “And I’m sure most of these men have your back, and by extension, ours. But the least complicated explanation is usually the right one, and you know it. Someone let that fucker onto the property.”

“Fuck,” I breathed, looking over his shoulder at the men who were still roaming around, looking for any type of clue or threat.

“They might not see it, or just don’t want to admit it,” Eli said. “But we’ve got a problem. We can’t stay here.”

“We weren’t planning on staying,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I know,” he agreed. “But we were planning on having bikers escort us to Eugene.”

“And if we tell them we don’t need them, they’ll know something’s up,” I said. “Goddamn it.”

“Pretty much.”

I wasn’t sure what the right call was. On one hand, I felt a loyalty to the club that had been ingrained in me since birth, but on the other hand, I couldn’t ignore what was looking me in the face. We had a mole, and worse than that, we had someone willing to risk getting caught in order to bring the enemy inside the gates.

“We need to talk to Casper,” Eli said. “Now.”

I nodded. “Grab Cam, too.”

“Will do. I’ll round everyone up.”

“Make sure you do it quietly,” I said as he turned away. “No need to make people nervous.”

“I’ve got it handled,” he replied dryly.

I wiped at my face again as I strode back toward Casper’s room. Jesus, how much pull did this Drake guy have, and how the fuck had he gotten to one of the members so quickly? Was there some kind of connection that predated this shit with Olive? And how the fuck were we supposed to find that connection?

Farrah’s hand was on the pistol in her lap when I re-entered the room.

“How’s it going?” I asked, leaning down to kiss Cecilia’s bent head. Olive was nursing sleepily, and I breathed a sigh of relief that at least that was going okay.

“She’s still quiet,” Farrah said cautiously, her worried eyes meeting mine. “But we’ve got the baby settled now, so that’s good, all things considered.”

“That is good,” I said, sitting down carefully next to CeeCee.

The slice along her ribs was superficial, thank Christ, but I couldn’t imagine how badly it had hurt. The thought of how scared she must have been made my skin crawl, and watching her stoically let Forrest stitch it had been one of the worst moments of my life.