by Raquel Lyon
Lexi’s flat was ten floors up. Her parents owned a fast-food place a few streets away, and Saturday being their busiest night meant they wouldn’t be home until the early hours. There’d be plenty of time to get what he needed before then. Checkout Girl was still on Kendrick’s mind, as he leaned against the corridor wall waiting for Lexi to unlock the door.
You can’t keep calling her that.
“What’s her name?” he asked.
“Whose?”
He pushed away from the wall and followed Lexi inside, slamming the door behind him. “You know who.”
“Still thinking about Little Miss Cock-tease, huh?” Lexi shucked off her jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa.
“What’s her name, Lex?”
“I told you, don’t go there.”
Kendrick caught her arm and pushed her roughly against the wall. “Tell me her fucking name.”
“Ooo. Are we playing rough tonight?” A twinkle grew in Lexi’s eyes as she pulled the corner of her lip into her mouth and ran her fingers over his crotch.
She wasn’t getting out of answering that easily. Ignoring his dick hardening instantly at her touch, and lifting up her chin to look her squarely in the eye, he said seriously, “I’m not playing.”
“Molly. It’s Molly, okay?”
“There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”
His lips came down on hers with unusual force. Strong hands firmly followed the line of her neck to the swell of her cleavage and pushed the straps of her tank and bra down far enough to reveal her luscious breasts. Taking one in each hand, he kneaded them roughly, as he continued to devour her mouth, sucking on her tongue and drawing her bottom lip into his mouth, before biting it, almost hard enough to draw blood. Lexi’s breathing quickened as she undid his belt and went for his zipper.
He loved how he could always count on Lexi to be there for him. She understood him and knew that sometimes he just had to let go of his frustrations. This was one of those times, and he had a feeling it was going to be a quick release, as he closed his eyes and imagined the girl wrapping her hand around his dick, and running a thumb over its tip, was Molly.
Lexi’s other hand searched his jacket pocket for the condom he always kept handy, and he left her mouth to focus on her hard, brown nipples as she rolled it into place. When she took hold of his ass and ground her hips invitingly against his, he impatiently hitched up her skirt and yanked down her knickers. She shimmied them away with an excited little wiggle and hooked one leg over his hip, opening herself to him. Grabbing her ass, to lift her high enough to gain access, he pressed her against the plaster. Lexi threw her arms above her head, trusting him to hold her steady as he powered into her. It was a good job she liked it hard and fast because that was exactly what she was going to get.
Kendrick closed his eyes and found Molly’s staring back at him. He focused on them, lost in the fantasy that the hot breath, panting moans into his hair, belonged to the girl with the lavender eyes. The thought excited him so much, Lexi was just getting going when he shot his load.
She pulled back and looked down at him with a frosty scowl. “What the fuck was that?”
“Sorry, Lex. I’m not on my game, tonight,” he said, easing out of her and lowering her down.
“You got that right.” She retrieved her knickers from the floor and spun them around her finger as she talked. “So how do you plan on making it up to me?”
“Some other time. I gotta go,” he said, fastening his belt as he headed for the door.
Lexi beat him to it and blocked his exit. “It’s her, isn’t it?”
“Who?”
“Don’t even try to lie. I can see it in your eyes. I know you, Rick.”
He pushed her out of the way. “You like to think you do,” he said, striding down the corridor.
“What? No kiss goodnight?” she shouted after him.
“Later, Lex.” Kendrick waved over his shoulder, as the elevator doors opened. If he could make it to the stop in five minutes, there was still a chance he’d catch the last bus.
Chapter Four
Molly
The smell coming from the overflowing ashtray was overpowering; it hit Molly as soon as she walked through the door. Why did he never open a window? The house was bad enough, even when it didn’t stink. When her mother had been around, you hardly noticed the peeling wallpaper or chipped furniture. Things might have been old or secondhand but they were neatly kept and clean. Molly tried her best, but after paying the rent, there was barely enough money left to put food in the fridge, let alone fix up the place, and it didn’t seem to matter how many times she ran a duster around, or how many pots she washed, as soon as she left the house, her father ensured she returned home to a dump.
She needn't have rushed back. Seven empty cans and a half-drunk bottle of brandy cluttered the coffee table, and the television was playing to itself. Her father’s head had lolled back against the cushion. His mouth closed and sucked back some spittle before opening again and resuming a soft snore. The sooner she could leave this hellhole, and the devil inside, the better.
Twisting the top back onto the brandy and gathering up an armful of cans, she headed to the kitchen. The mess was just as bad in there. A fork poked out of a half-eaten ready meal congealing on the counter, and a loaf of bread was left out to go stale, with a buttery knife sticking to the crumbs on the tiled surface. Molly sighed and went outside to throw the cans in the trash before tackling the kitchen. Her father might not care how he lived, but she refused to bunk down in a pigsty. She knew she was no more than an unpaid maid—a ghost who came and went, only occasionally being caught by the unseeing eye, but most days, she preferred to remain invisible and fade into the wallpaper. It was easier that way.
She was wiping the last of the crumbs from the counter when there was a tap on the window. Surrounded by bobbing pink curls, the face of her best friend, Yvonne, beamed at her through the grimy pane. Molly gestured for her to go around the side, and Yvonne answered with a nod.
Tiptoeing past her father, Molly went to her room and opened the window.
“Wotcha,” Yvonne said, climbing through. “I heard about your exciting evening and came to see if you’re okay.”
“Boy, news sure gets around fast,” Molly said, finally shedding her work clothes. “Who told you?” Secretly, she wondered if it had been the boy at the store. Did Yvonne know him? Could she risk mentioning him without Yvonne getting the wrong idea?
“There’s a meet tonight. I heard about the robbery on the police scanners. Everyone did.”
“Well, it was sweet of you to miss out on the fun to come check on me, but as you can see, I’m fine, so you’d better get back before you miss any more races.”
“Come with me.”
Molly had never been into the racing scene. She’d only started going to the meets, in the first place, to please Yvonne. “I don’t think so. Chris will be there.” And seeing him again, after waving a knife inches from her face, was the last thing she wanted to do.
“Yeah, but who cares. You can’t let him wanting to get into your pants keep you from having a social life. Blend into the crowd and he’ll be too busy to notice you,” Yvonne said, stooping to check her hair in Molly’s vanity mirror. “You’ve had a rough evening. You need to let that shit out before it festers.”
Yvonne just didn’t get it. Why couldn’t she drag her to a nightclub instead? A couple of hours on the dance floor would do her far more good than filling her lungs with noxious fumes. “I’d rather get an early night.”
“Not happening, Moll. I’ve been promised a slot, later, and I need my best cheerleader with me to ensure I don’t chicken out.”
Molly blinked with surprise. “They’re letting you race?”
“Yeah, baby. I finally got the stake money together.”
“You’ll lose.”
“Wow, thanks for the confidence boost.”
“You know it’s the truth.”
&n
bsp; “I just wanna see what my baby can do, and if she does lose, I’ll go back to showing her off. It’s no biggie. Now, get your war paint on.”
Knowing she wouldn’t get any peace if she tried to object further, Molly picked out an outfit and spruced up her face and hair. Ten minutes later, she was ready.
After leaving her bedroom window open an inch, so she could duck in unnoticed later, they exited by the front door. Molly placed a blanket over her father as she passed. There were many nights when he never made it as far as his bed, but if he did wake, the blanket would ensure he knew Molly was at home, and he wouldn’t come looking for her.
Yvonne’s baby was waiting at the curb. The ten-year-old Subaru had been an eighteenth birthday present from her parents, and Yvonne spent everything she had on her. The recent addition of a four-inch, cat-back exhaust was the latest in a long line of upgrades, which started with the bright-pink paint job. A deep hum penetrated the night air, before Yvonne reached for a button and the sound system kicked in, as the lowered suspension skimmed the car over the road’s surface.
It was only a few blocks to their destination. Detouring through factory-lined side streets, they arrived at Liam Murphy’s garage as a race was finishing. The huge prefabricated building stood at the end of a straight section of road, just long enough to allow a quarter-mile drag.
Molly scooched down into the moulded leather and peeped up through the tinted window, searching the crowd for Barbie’s dark head. No way could she risk him catching sight of her. She had no idea how he’d react. Would he mention the robbery, or pretend it never happened? Either way, she wasn’t ready for a confrontation.
In the dead of night, the industrial estate came alive. Amid the towering plain walls of deserted buildings, hundreds of local youngsters congregated, alcohol fuelling their excitement. Music pumped from cars with raised rear doors, as the owners proudly displayed their pride and joys and vied for adoration and respect. The Subaru teased a line through the crowd and came to a stop near the starting line. How Yvonne could say Molly wouldn’t be noticed when she arrived in a vehicle the colour of strawberry milkshake, she had no idea.
“Couldn’t you have pulled up somewhere less conspicuous?” Molly asked.
Yvonne cocked her chin towards a group of guys swapping wads of cash. “Chris is over there. Sneak out here, and I’ll come and find you, when I’m done.”
“I thought you needed a cheerleader?”
“I didn’t mean literally. Knowing you’re here supporting me is enough.” Yvonne beamed.
Molly smiled back weakly, feeling anything but supportive. She hated the thought of her best friend risking her life for an adrenaline rush, and she wasn’t in the least bit interested in watching. She’d never understood Yvonne’s love of cars. In fact, she couldn’t see the appeal for anyone. After all, they were just piles of metal to get you from A to B. And shooting them along a stretch of road just to prove a point, that didn’t matter a bean in the scheme of things, was just plain childish. “I hope you lose,” she said, opening the door.
Yvonne stuck out her tongue. “Love you too.”
Outside the cocoon of the car’s interior, the world spun in a swirling mix of colour, noise, and gyrating bodies. Molly headed for the sanctity of the garage. With a bit of luck, she could hide in there and ride the time out until the racing was over, before sneaking away home.
Inside the workshop, the sound of competing stereos wasn’t quite so ear-splitting, but Molly’s head was pounding to a different beat—one that made her temples feel as if they were about to explode. So she went into the darkened office, closed the door, and sat down at the desk. She should have been more assertive with Yvonne and insisted upon staying home. Why was she such a pushover? Sticking her phone’s headphones firmly into her ears, she chose some soothing music, and leaned back in the chair with her eyes closed.
Four songs down her playlist later, she thought she heard voices and pulled out the earbuds.
“She smoked it, man.”
“Yeah. Never knew the chick had it in her. Not too bad on the eyes, either. You tried tapping that one yet?”
Recognising Liam’s voice, Molly peeped through the window separating the office from the workshop to see who he was speaking to.
“Nah, man. I’m not the pink and fluffy type, and anyway, you know as well as I do she’s spoken for.”
Shit. No way. It was him. The boy from the store. What was he doing here? No longer wearing his jacket, she could see every contour of his body under the tight, navy T-shirt, and her blood heated as her eyes travelled down the line of his jeans to his Doc Marten boots. Damn. What was wrong with her lungs? Had they shrunk?
Liam leaned against an old Focus with the engine missing. “Don’t tell me you’ve never hooked up with someone else’s chick, ‘cause I won’t believe you.” His lips curled into a knowing grin. “Besides, she has a great ride, man. Might even let you use it to get in on the action, if you’re lucky.”
“You think I’m the type of guy to bang a chick for her car?”
“Aren’t you?”
A wry smile exposed his top set of teeth, and he shook his head. “Nah. I’m gonna earn my wheels. And besides, I gotta pass the old test, first, so I’ve got time to get some cash together. I just need a way to do it.”
“Trying to tell me I don’t pay you enough?”
“I’m grateful, man, but I need more.”
“You should have stuck a few notes on that pink chick. Relieved Barbie of a piece of that wad he’s been flashing around.”
“Fucking Barbie. That bastard always falls on his feet.”
Bastard? Definitely not a mate, then, Molly thought, unable to look away. What was it about this boy?
“Look. I might have something coming up, soon,” Liam said. “Custom job. Big payout. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Nice one.”
“You coming to the bash?”
“Nah, I think I’ll pass.”
Liam pushed away from the car. “Fair enough. Leave you to lock up?”
“Sure thing.”
After Liam left, Molly watched the boy run his fingers along the side of the Ford, deep in thought, before removing a set of keys from a hook on the wall. She should leave. But how? There was no back door, and if she left now, he would know she’d been hiding and spying on him. Her pulse flickered as she took in the curves of his muscular arm, as he held the keys aloft, spun them once around his finger, and caught them in his fist.
He was going to lock up the garage. Shit. With her inside. Shit. Shit. Shit. How the hell could she get out of there without getting busted for trespassing? Quickly pressing a few buttons on her phone’s keypad, she sent an SOS to Yvonne.
The boy pulled down the shutters, at the front of the shop, and secured the padlock. Soon he’d be leaving through the side door and she’d be trapped.
Where was Yvonne? Why wasn’t she coming? Molly couldn’t risk being locked up for the night. If she didn’t get home, her father would kill her. Add in the fact that it was Sunday tomorrow, and one night could turn into two, and she was royally screwed.
Fuck it. However embarrassing the situation was, she had to show her face.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped through the door.
Chapter Five
Kendrick
Kendrick turned at the sound of the office door opening, and inhaled a sharp breath. Molly was the last person he’d expected to see. After taking a couple of steps forwards, she stopped and lowered her eyes. She looked nervous. Had she a right to be? What had she been doing in there? Stealing something? Despite his earlier decision that she wasn’t the criminal type, he knew looks could be deceiving—although nothing could possibly be concealed in that small vest top or those tight, skinny jeans. His eyes raked down to her chest and caught the glisten of a bead of sweat trickle down between her cleavage. Damn. Why did she have to be stacked? A dude could get lost between tits like those. Now, it wouldn’t be just her eyes he�
�d be dreaming about later.
He cleared his throat. “Were you waiting for Liam? Because he was here, but you just missed him,” he said, unable to tear his eyes away. He had to stop looking at her. She belonged to Barbie, and Barbie was very protective of his property. He wouldn’t take too kindly to Kendrick adding Molly to his list of conquests.
Her eyes rose slowly and met his. “I-I know. I-I wasn’t. I’m waiting for m-my friend.”
Shit. The last thing he needed was to be found alone with Barbie’s girl. He needed his legs to drive and was quite fond of his face. Although fearful of the answer, he asked, “Barbie?” As the word came out, he closed the gap between them, like one magnet drawn to another. He should be staying well away, not playing with fire, so why couldn’t he stop himself?
“No,” she said, stepping back.
Relaxing slightly, he eyed her warily, careful not to disclose the effect her presence was having on him. “No? He’s not taking you out tonight to celebrate?”
“Celebrate what?”
“You know what.” Christ, she smelled good, like honey dripping off freshly buttered toast, and he was fucking hungry. He shifted his feet and ran his fingers through the side of his hair to disguise the fact he needed to ease the pressure building in his jeans.
“No. I’ve no idea. I haven’t been here long.”
“Don’t play the innocent. We both know what went down tonight.”
“That had nothing to do with me.” She stepped to the side and headed for the exit, but he snagged her arm.
“Not sure the cops will see it that way. His luck’s gotta run out sometime, and if they catch him and find out you’re his girlfriend…”
