Craving Vera Read Online Nicole Jacquelyn (Aces’ Sons #4.5)

Categories Genre: Biker, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Aces' Sons Series by Nicole Jacquelyn
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Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
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“I know that,” I replied.

“It’s time to get outta here. I got us a place,” he said, watching me closely for a reaction. “It’s small. One bedroom. The kitchen is tiny as fuck, we won’t have room for a table or anythin’. But there’s a little yard in the back if we wanted to put a grill outside in the summer.”

“What?” I asked in confusion, jerking my head away from his hand. “What are you talking about?”

“We can’t stay here forever,” he said simply. “That’s where I was today—getting us a place.”

“I can’t stay here forever,” I replied, standing up so he was forced to take a couple steps back. “You can.”

“Just because I could doesn’t mean I want to,” he said.

“It doesn’t mean that we need to move in together, either,” I argued. Was he out of his mind? What in the world could he possibly be thinking, making a decision like that? “I don’t even like you.”

I wish I would have looked away when I said those words, because then I wouldn’t have seen Charlie’s face when I said them. He recovered quickly, but I’d seen the look in his eyes, like he’d just been sucker punched.

“Look,” he said, his voice emotionless. “Cops showed up here today lookin’ for you.”

Fear hit me with the force of a sledgehammer and my body broke out in a cold sweat.

“We can’t stay here,” he explained, his hands on his hips. “We’ve got a lot of friendly cops around here, but there are still a few hopin’ to prove themselves. My dad is pretty sure that they’ll be back with a warrant by the end of the day and his instincts are rarely wrong.”

“Oh no,” I breathed, I looked around the room at my things, a sweater and pair of socks Gran had sent, the hairbrush and lip balm Charlie had picked up at the pharmacy for me, I could only see one of my shoes. Where was my other shoe?

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching for me, only to drop his hand before he made contact. “We got time, alright? We’ll get our stuff and head over to the house. Sleep on some sleepin’ bags tonight. Camp out, yeah?”

“What if they’re watching?” I asked, my voice wobbling. I could almost see how it would go—the cops pulling us over and taking me back to my parents. The look of fake relief on my dad’s face as he made a big show of gratitude that I’d been found. The vision made my stomach churn.

“It’s a small department,” he said easily. “No way they’re watching us. Don’t have the manpower for that.”

“They’re going to find me,” I said, the sense of inevitability felt like a heavy weight on my shoulders as I stared blankly past Charlie. My dad would never let it go. He couldn’t. If he wanted to save face in front of his cronies, he had to keep searching. His reputation wouldn’t allow anything else. “I’ll have to go back.”

“Vera,” Charlie said, his voice grim. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

I just shook my head. We were fighting a losing battle. He was fighting a losing battle. I could see it even if he couldn’t. I was thankful, though, for everything he’d done. The days he’d given me away from it all, the time I had to recuperate and grow stronger, the knowledge that someone would fight for me.

“It’s okay,” I replied, my voice hoarse. “You’ve done more than enough.”

“Oh, fuck that,” he snapped, stepping into my space. “If you think you’re ever going back there, you’re outta your mind.”

“He won’t stop,” I argued.

“Then I’ll fuckin’ make him stop,” he thundered.

“You can’t kill him,” I said, shaking my head. “You’d never get away with it.”

“You’d be surprised,” he shot back.

“It’s not worth it,” I argued, his frustration fueling mine. “I only have a few months left before I turn eighteen. Then he can’t do anything.”

“A few months?” he said incredulously. “How long did it take for him to beat the hell out of you? Ten minutes? Five?” He threw his hands up and began to pace. “A fuckin’ few months, she says.”

“I can’t look over my shoulder all the time,” I said to his back as he walked toward the end of the room. “If they catch me with you, you could get into a lot of trouble.”

“You let me worry about that,” he said, not even bothering to face me.

“No,” I replied stubbornly.

“You aren’t going back there,” he snapped, turning to face me. “You try—yeah, I can see the wheels spinnin’ in that head of yours—you try it, and I’ll kill the motherfucker. You want to be back there so bad, I’ll make it goddamn safe for you to be there.”

“Why?” I asked, my throat feeling thick as I tried not to cry. “Why are you doing this? Why did you do any of this?”


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