by Dani René
Her mouth falls wide open at my retort. I’ve always hated her. She used to look down on everyone that didn’t have a massive bank account. She’d gossip with my mother about the women in the town, talking about the bad things they did, only, she was worse than any of those mother’s out there.
I turn my attention back to Uncle Greg, who’s flailing under the strong grip of Jameson. Pike’s eyes glimmer as he watches me with a dirty grin on his handsome face. Today when I walked into the abandoned chapel, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. His cherry red shirt, the black slacks and suspenders with his hair slicked back, it took everything in me not to jump him right there and show our folks just how good we look while we’re fucking.
“Molly,” Uncle Greg mumbles, the red slowly trickling down his face as his eyes stare into mine as if he’s trying to find my soul. “Please, girl,” he whimpers when Gigi cuts deeper. His skin is thin, like paper being torn apart and it looks so pretty.
“Pretty patterns, bloody cuts, I’m about to end you and spill your guts,” I giggle softly, glancing up at Jameson who seems intrigued by me. “I like to play with knives, I like to slice and dice. When they see Gigi, they run like mice.”
“Sweet Molls,” Pike calls to me, but I don’t move Gigi from the flesh of his father’s forehead. The blood is now raining down on me and I know I’ll be drenched in it soon. Aunt Rhonda is still wailing like a banshee, but she’s now bound to a chair. “Perhaps you’d like something to drink?” I watch Pike pour champagne in two glasses, then in another glass he pours a clear liquid that seems harmless, but I know what it is.
He hands it to me with a smirk, then rises to stand behind me. His large body looms over me and he grips his father’s face which causes the old man’s mouth to snap open. Slowly, I pour the clear liquid onto his tongue which starts to sizzle and bubble.
“Big bubbles, little bubbles, it’s all going to burn.” I glance at Aunt Rhonda and smile. “Soon it will be your turn,” I tell her happily.
Pike laces his fingers through mine. Holding my hand, we watch together as husband and wife as his father gurgles in agony on the acid as it eats through his mouth, throat, and chest. I lift the glass and pour the last few dribbles down his now gaping throat, watching as his body shudders.
Setting the glass down, I step back and watch as the old man takes his final garbled breaths and seconds later, he’s gone. Dead to the world. My own parents sit opposite the horrific scene, their eyes wide in shock and horror. But they don’t need to be, they’ve created this monster, they made me who I am, and Pike loves me. That’s all that matters.
For a long time, I believed I wasn’t worthy of love. The kind of forever love that people in movies and books find. And all the while Pike was there, I thought it would be a passing faze. Me and him. But it’s not. I glance down at the ring on my finger and smile.
Turning to Aunt Rhonda who’s gaping at us in horror, I pick up the empty glass and wave it in front of her face. She shakes her head so fast—left to right—it makes me dizzy.
“Molly, Pike,” she pleads. She fucking begs. Her face contorted in fear, anguish, because she knows what’s coming. And I can’t help smiling.
“Jameson,” Pike calls his friend. “Can you fill this glass? I think my mom would like something to drink. She’s celebrating with us today.”
I stalk closer to the trembling woman. Her body is frail, almost breakable. Almost. I lift Gigi, pressing the silver tip against the woman’s neck, pushing into her flesh until I see the ruby red. It trickles like a waterfall going dry. Small drops fall to her dress, staining it.
“Please, Molly, you don’t have to do this,” she tells me once more, making me giggle. Her voice is raspy, filled with the fear of a woman who knows she’s about to end. She’ll join my mother and father in the afterlife. They’ll all live in hell together.
Jameson returns with another glass of the clear deadly liquid. He hands it to Pike who joins me beside his mother. I watch as he tips the glass, allowing the acid to trickle gently over her head. Her hair seems to sizzle, coiling itself into tiny ringlets as she’s drenched.
Her cries are like music to my ears. I smile. The colors swirl once more as I watch the woman who made Pike’s life a living hell cry out in agony.
“Goodbye, mother,” Pike tells her.
“Bad mommies, and bad daddies, all deserve to die. Happy Molly and happy Pike listen to you cry.”
Her eyes are trained on me as Pike delivers the last droplets onto her lap. She’s foaming at the mouth, but I know she can hear me. I pick up my own glass, filled with golden bubbly liquid and drink it slowly, savoring the champagne alongside my husband.
“Well, baby girl,” Pike smiles, wrapping an arm around me. “It’s time for us to live our lives now. As husband and wife.” He leans in, planting a kiss on my lips.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Sweet Molls.”
The Letter
Molly
When I turned eighteen, Pike and I had been together for two long years. All those months living away from my family had given me a calm I’d never known. Even though he was always there to hold me when I needed it, I knew I could never tell Pike about my past. The part of me he didn’t see.
We all have demons. Some are merely in our minds. Others… well, those that are real haunt you far longer than a few bad dreams. When I laid awake at night, the only thing that kept the monsters at bay was Pike’s strong arms around me. I knew if he were to ever not be around, they’d find me. They’d hurt me more because I ran away.
And I could never let that happen.
I still woke up with nightmares.
I still believed I wasn’t free.
So, on my eighteenth birthday, I spent the night sitting at the window, watching the couple across the way fuck. I was huddled in Pike’s chair when I wrote a letter to him. I made sure to tell him everything, not leaving a single detail out.
Dear Pike,
I don’t know why I’m writing this because if you ever knew what this contains, you’d run a mile away, probably more. Since the first moment I saw you, I knew I’d love you forever. I was only a child, seven years old, with no idea what love was, but when you looked at me with your big blue eyes, I figured you’d be my happily ever after.
But since that moment to this one, so much has happened. Yes, you’re here, asleep in the bed we now share, but you have no idea what it took for me to be here. You never saw the horrors that happened to me when you weren’t at my house.
Father, Uncle Waylon, and Uncle Greg, they’re all bad men. They broke me, Pike. And I don’t know if I’ll ever get fixed. Sometimes, even when we’re together, I don’t know how to be me because my mind is no longer mine. They stole it, along with everything I held close.
I held onto the rock you gave me after you’d killed the bug. I closed my eyes and went to the dark place. They did it to me over and over again. The pain was excruciating. There was blood everywhere.
I begged.
I pleaded.
I cried and screamed.
My mother stood by, watching, telling me I was a bad girl for making them do those things. And all the while it happened, you were my salvation in the darkness.
They stole everything, they broke and tore me apart, but they could never take my heart. That belonged to you. Each night, each day, with every bruise I hid from you, I prayed you’d never know what I’d had to endure because I knew that if you found out, you’d do something stupid.
Funny how the only thing I wanted to do since the first time, to now, is keep you safe. After I’d lost everything, lying in the blood drenched sheets, I wished you’d steal me away.
It started with my father, then Uncle Waylon, and finally your father. My heart still aches when I recall how we were never normal kids, growing up with so much money, but we had nothing.
No love.
No affection.
And when we were offered attention, it was violen
t.
Pike, I’m writing this letter to tell you how loved you are. How, all those times they came into my room and held me down, they threatened to do the same to you. And I cried and told them I was the one they should do this to because I was bad and deserved it. Only, they didn’t know you’d already had me. You’d been the one I could give it to, and that’s something they could never take from me. You were my first everything—love, kiss, and fuck. And that’s something I can happily say I’m thankful for. I chose to give it.
In my mind, if I could keep them away from you, at least one of us would be okay. I believed it then, and I believe it now. Don’t hate me for making the choice. Don’t be angry at me for saving you. Just remember, you are loved by me.
Yours,
Sweet Molls
The letter was hidden away for so long, I’d forgotten about it until Pike found it. I’d always lived in fear that he was going to walk away when he learned what I’d done, but he didn’t. Instead, he stayed.
I know I’m not an easy person to be with. I’m hard work, so much so that there are times I wonder why Pike doesn’t leave. But then I realize something, in life, in society, we’re told who to love, who to want. There are rules on how you’re supposed to live your life, but Pike taught me that rules are people’s way of holding you back because of their fears.
And I’m lucky that I have someone who’ll happily break the rules with me. Even at times when it gets bloody, and messy, he’s by my side.
Orationis Enim Quod Perierat
Pike
Molly is sitting on the table, swinging her legs happily as I look down at the carnage. I could have sworn that her mother and father were here, but the more I come down from my high, the more I think it may have just been a fucking hallucination.
Guess when you want a motherfucker dead, you kill them again, even if they’re already gone, I think with a chuckle.
Sweet Molly glances over at me curiously and I smile at her, shaking my head to let her know that everything is still okay. Jameson clears his throat to remind us that he’s in the room with us and I laugh.
“Sorry, brother,” I say, reaching into my pocket. I pull out the wad of cash I promised him for his services, adding a couple of hundred bucks for his help with putting the dogs down.
“See you crazy kids around,” he says with a nod as he walks out of the room. I smirk at the trail of bloody footprints he’s leaving in his wake and let out a heavy sigh.
“Well, baby girl, you about ready to go?” I ask, holding out a hand to my wife. She hops down from the table with an eager smile and makes her way toward me, taking my hand in hers, interlacing our fingers together.
I lean down and pick up my bat, slinging it over my shoulder as Molly lights a cigarette for me, slipping it between my teeth.
“Thanks, babe,” I say as best as I can. She nods and looks up at me with her adoring eyes and I know that we’ve made the right decision. Even if no one else will ever understand what we’ve done here today, what we did was for us anyway and the world can fuck off instead of judging us.
“Daddy?” Molls asks slowly as I begin to lead her toward the door.
“What’s up, babe?” I question, slipping my hand out of hers and pulling the cigarette free from my lips. I make a slight face at how damp the damn filter seems to have gotten in a mere few moments, then toss it to the floor and stomp it out with my boots.
“Well … I’m just wondering how we’re going to get out of this one,” she says, glancing meaningfully at the bodies.
“Come on, Molls. You know Daddy takes care of you,” I reply with a sly grin. A shiver goes through me and I can feel the remnants of the drug still attempting to hold on to me. No matter what we’ve just done, no matter how sober it almost made me, nothing beats licking those goddamn magic papers. And once they have that vice grip on you, it’s hard to shake off.
“I know that,” she replies chidingly. “I’m just wondering is all.”
I pull her close to me and kiss her forehead before I take another drag from my smoke and click my tongue against my teeth.
“Why don’t you wait for me outside? I gotta do something quick, then I’ll show you how.”
The immediate defiance gleams in her eyes, however, my stern glance back into the most amazing face I’ve ever seen, and she’s complaint. Pouting, foot-stomping, and slump-shouldered, but compliant.
I watch her walk out of the building like an angry two-year-old throwing a temper tantrum, and I grin. She’ll get over it—especially when she sees the little show I plan on putting on for her.
But first…
I drop the bat and get to work.
I grab Mom by her legs and drag her body over to Dad’s, laying her across his chest, forming a makeshift cross of sorts. Once I’m happy with how they look, I take a deep breath and turn my attention toward the ever-watchful idols staring accusingly at me through vacant eyes and I drop to my knees.
I fold my hands together and close my eyes.
I’m not asking for myself; I’m asking for Molly.
I know something, somewhere can hear me and you have to understand that she means the world to me. I’ll kill as many people as I need to in order to keep her safe and you’re just going to have to accept it.
She belongs in a much higher place than any of you, but I won’t give her to you. Together forever.
If you try to take her from me, I will come for you.
All of you.
Oh, and bless my parents or whatever.
I bet this is all a bunch of bullshit anyway.
Amen.
I get to my feet and open my eyes, as I head to the table that Molls had been sitting on and pull out the canister I asked Jameson to place there for me. I roll it out toward Mom and Dad, unscrew the large cap and douse them in gasoline. I had every intention of killing everyone in this fucking place, but when Molly looked at me the way she often does, I didn’t have it in my heart to send us with them.
She deserves better than that.
Once the canister is half empty, I pick it up and douse the table, the idols on the walls, and even chuck some up at the ceiling, managing to sidestep the back-splash that tries to catch me.
I toss the empty container into the middle of the room as I walk out and find my Sweet Molls sitting on the front steps, arms crossed tightly over her knees, her entire body dropped into a pout.
“Ready?” I ask, giving her a gentle nudge.
Molly glances up at me and I laugh.
“Stop looking so angry, baby girl. Daddy’s going to let you do something fun,” I say as I fish out a book of matches from my pocket.
“What’s this for?” she asks curiously.
“Light one and toss it in,” I instruct, nodding at the still open front door as I shove my hands deep into my pockets. I can’t remember what exactly it is about gasoline that catches fire, but I’d rather not singe my hands if I can help it.
Molls shrugs and does as I instruct her, letting out a shout of pure glee once the entire building goes up in flames. She quickly lights another one and tosses it in, and I laugh. But when she does it again and steps a little further into the building, I feel a bit uneasy.
“Babe?” I say to her softly.
“Yes, Daddy?” she asks, striking another match.
“Um, just light the entire book and toss it through the window, okay?” I say to her uneasily.
“You’re no fun,” she complains, sticking her tongue out at me, but she does what she’s told.
Just like the good girl she’s always been.
The same girl that I fell in love with so many years ago.
Daddy’s sweet little girl.
About Yolanda
Yolanda Olson is an award winning and international bestselling author. Born and raised in Bridgeport, CT where she currently resides, she usually spends her time watching her favorite channel, Investigation Discovery. Occasionally, she takes a break to write books and test the limits of her
mind. Also an avid horror movie fan, she likes to incorporate dark elements into the majority of her books.
You can keep in touch with her on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.
About Dani
Dani is an international bestselling author and proud member of the Romance Writer's Organization of South Africa (ROSA) and the Romance Writer’s of America (RWA).
A fan of dark romance that grabs you by the throat and doesn't let go. It's from this passion that her writing has evolved from sweet and romantic, to dark and delicious. It's in this world she's found her calling, growing from strength to strength and hitting her stride.
On a daily basis, she has a few hundred characters, storylines, and ideas floating around in her head. From the feisty heroines she delivers to the dark, dominant alphas that grace the pages of her books, she promises light in a world filled with danger and darkness.
She has a healthy addiction to reading, TV series, music, tattoos, chocolate, and ice cream.
www.danirene.com
[email protected]
