Craving Theodora (The Aces MC #16)

Chapter 1

Teddy

“Three p.m.,” I confirmed. Then I hung up the phone, stuffed it in my pocket, and looked around.

Our townhouse wasn’t anything special, but we’d made it our own in small ways.

It was furnished when we moved in three years before, and we’d managed to keep everything in excellent condition.

Walking over to the TV stand, I pulled down the three photo frames on the shelves and stacked them on the coffee table.

Behind the unit, I unplugged the TV that I’d saved for months to buy and the gaming system my kids had received as a gift.

It was secondhand, but whoever’d turned it in to the pawnshop had barely spent any time on it. Sucked for them, good for us.

As soon as I’d finished wrapping up the cords, I pulled the knitted blanket from the couch, slung it over my shoulder, picked up the gaming system and photo frames, and carried them to my room.

I set them on the end of the bed. My bed set, nightstand, and dresser had come with the apartment, but the painting over the bed was mine, and so was the bedding.

Moving to the wall, I took down the painting and carefully propped it against the side of the bed.

Then I went to the closet, pulling down the sweatshirts, coats, and dresses stored there, complete with the hangers.

I stacked them on the bed and went back for more.

When that was finished, I pulled out the three bins stored on the floor and the plethora of shoes.

Behind all those things were the boxes I’d stashed for just that moment and a small overnight bag.

Pulling out my dad’s little pocketknife that I’d carried since he died, I flicked it open and cut the cord holding the stack of boxes together.

I had packing tape in my nightstand drawer.

Five minutes later, the boxes were built.

I packed the overnight bag first. Then the shoes and the clothes from the closet.

The picture frames from the living room and some from my nightstand and dresser.

The little ceramic upside-down umbrella that held my rings at night.

The small lamp that my parents had received at their wedding.

After that, I emptied the dresser from the bottom up, tightly packing the rest of my clothes.

I stripped the bed and packed the gaming system above the pillows and below the sheets and comforter.

I carried the last of the empty boxes and the bag into the bathroom and left them there.

Then I moved into the second bedroom, pausing in the doorway to look it over.

The bed was mine from when I was a kid—twin-size, dark wood, heavy.

The dresser and shelf below the window weren’t anything special.

Secondhand, and not that great to begin with—they wouldn’t be a huge loss.

I stripped the bed first, then moved to the closet, pulling everything out so I could get to the boxes and backpack stored there.

Then I packed, only pausing to jog downstairs to the garage for my tools to take the bed apart.

I was efficient. Quick. Every movement had purpose.

I went from one bedroom to the next. Then the bathroom.

The kitchen, where I picked through the contents, pulling out the things that we’d accumulated since we’d moved in.

Cans of food. Boxes of cereal and rice. Cleaning supplies.

In the end, the cupboards were bare beyond what had come with the place, and I had two boxes of kitchen supplies and two bags of garbage.

It killed to throw away the contents of the fridge and half-finished containers of food, but it couldn’t be helped.

It took two hours to give the place a quick clean and take out the garbage bags—four of them by the time I was done.

Half an hour to get my toolbox into the back of my truck and tied down—it was heavy as hell and awkward as fuck to push up the ramp.

An hour to carry the bed and boxes to the garage, stacking them in the truck like a game of Tetris around the toolbox and folded-up ramp.

I wrapped the television in a moving cloth I’d had folded in the corner of the garage for that purpose and laid it flat on top of the boxes.

I’d just finished securing the truck bed with every tie-down I had when the front door opened and footsteps thundered onto the hardwood in the living room.

I’d made good time.

“Did we get robbed?”

“We didn’t get robbed…I don’t think.”

“I think you’d know if we got robbed,” I announced, stepping through the garage door. “I doubt they’d mop the floor and dust.”

“What’s goin’ on?” my ten-year-old, Finn, asked, looking around blankly. “Where’s our stuff?”

“Moving day,” I announced, making my fifteen-year-old’s head snap sideways to look at me. “It’s loaded up.”

“Really?” Finn practically shouted, his eyes wide.

“You’ve got an overnight bag in your room,” I confirmed. “Run up and get it. Go through your room while you’re there and make sure I didn’t miss anything you’ve been hiding in your mattress or whatever.”

“I don’t hide anything in my mattress,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“Sure, you don’t,” I joked, scuffing my hand over his hair as he raced past me to the stairs.

Jesse waited until Finn was out of earshot before they spoke. “Moving day?”

“It’s time.”

“You sure?” they asked nervously.

“Who’s the parent?”

“You are.”

“Have I ever steered us wrong?”

“Could be debated,” Jesse hedged.

I let out a rusty laugh. “Fuck off.”

“You’re sure, sure?” they asked again.

“All packed up,” I replied firmly. “Be a shame to unpack it all again.”

A small smile played on their lips. “Yeah, it would.”

“Left your bag upstairs too,” I informed them. “Go get it and go through your room one last time. I put your pillow and lovey in the truck already.”

“We’re really going,” Jess whispered.

“We are. Go. Get your stuff.”

“What about my school books?”

“We’ll mail them back.”

Jesse’s grin grew into a wide smile. They turned and jogged up the stairs as Finn came down them.

“Got everything?”

“There were a couple of baseball cards that fell behind my dresser,” he replied loftily.

“Whoops.” I shrugged. “Go put your bag in the truck. Grab your school bag too.”

“It’s so empty in here,” he replied as he grabbed his school bag and started for the garage. “It looks like a hotel or something.”

I glanced at my watch.

“You got everything,” Jesse said as they came back down the stairs.

“Liar.”

They looked at me suspiciously.

“You get your journal from behind your shelf?”

“I knew you knew it was back there.”

“You’re not exactly CIA,” I joked. “Figured you’d want to pack that yourself.”

“Thanks.”

“Put your stuff in the truck,” I ordered. “I’m going to do one last walk-through.”

“Just like that?” they asked, glancing behind them and then around the house.

“Just like that,” I confirmed. “Time to go.”

I jogged up the stairs and checked the rooms one by one.

They were as clean as I could get them in the time I had, and we hadn’t left a single personal item behind.

They’d take my deposit for sure, since I’d left some furniture behind and they’d charge to dispose of it.

Bullshit, since there was no way that they wouldn’t sell it or keep it for the next tenant, but I wasn’t going to dwell.

When I got back downstairs, Jesse and Finn were waiting at the garage door.

“I checked the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom,” Jesse said. “And under the couch and the TV table.”

I nodded. “All set?”

“I am!” Finn said excitedly.

“Then load up,” I ordered.

I locked up the house and made sure all the lights were turned off.

When I got to the garage, Jesse was in the front passenger seat, and Finn was in the seat behind mine.

I climbed into the truck and hit the garage door opener as I slammed the door.

We waited as light filtered in, getting brighter and brighter until we could see the alleyway behind the house in its entirety.

Then I fired up the engine and pulled out.

I waited only long enough for the garage to close before I pulled away.

The first stop was the management office across town. I’d printed the paperwork to end my rental agreement months before, and I carried that and our keys into the office. Jesse and Finn waited in the car, one of them anxious and watchful, the other excited and bouncing around the backseat.

I wasn’t sure what exactly I’d instilled in Finn that made him game for anything at any time, but I had to admit that sometimes it made life a hell of a lot easier.

Someday, it was going to come back to bite me in the ass when one of his little douchey friends had a really bad idea that Finn went along with, but I’d deal with that when it came.

For now, I was going to be silently thankful that he hadn’t thought twice about coming home from school to see that his entire life had been packed into the back of our truck.

“Oh,” Barry, the property manager, said in surprise, looking down at the paperwork, garage opener, and keys I’d set on his desk.

“You need anything else?” I asked.

“You’ve already moved out?”

“Yeah.”

“I—um…” He looked over the paperwork. “No, I don’t think so. Uh, do you have a forwarding address?”

“You’ve got my number if you need it,” I replied. “Let me know if you need to send me anything.”

“Yes, uh, yeah.”

“Excellent. Thanks.” I turned on my heel and got out of that office.

I’d dealt with the property manager plenty of times, but it wasn’t as if we were friends.

From the little I knew of him, he responded to maintenance concerns quickly, made himself available almost obnoxiously, and he liked to talk.

It didn’t really matter about what. He just wanted to have a conversation.

Since I didn’t have time for that, it was better to bail before he dug in.