Craving Molly

by Nicole Jacquelyn

  “Did he?” the younger cop asked, setting his hand on his gun. Christ, now she’d gone and tripped the idiot’s protective instincts. I could see his chest puffing out.

  “Of course not,” Molly snapped in disgust. Hell, at least that sounded real—since it was. “I’d rip his balls off while he slept.”

  The older cop coughed uncomfortably as the younger cop turned bright red.

  “That’s not why we’re here, anyhow,” the older one said. He glanced at me, then back at Molly. “I’m sorry, but we found your father dead in his house last night.”

  Molly staggered toward me. That was real, too.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “It looks like he’d been beaten,” the cop said, pausing as he looked over Molly’s face. “But we think he died from a gunshot wound.”

  “Oh, my God,” Molly murmured, lifting a hand to cover her face. Real.

  “Ma’am, are you sure that—” The younger cop’s words cut off as Rebel walked between him and Molly, coming to a stop with her hand wrapped around Molly’s thigh.

  I think they were both surprised by Reb. She didn’t say a word as she stared at them, just watched somberly behind her black framed glasses as they shifted on their feet. Molly looked like hell, but there was no arguing that Reb looked like an angel. She was in clean clothes, her hair was pulled back from her face in a little ponytail and her specs were clearly not a discount brand. Her face was still covered in donut leftovers, but that seemed to make her look even sweeter.

  “Did—did you need something from me?” Molly asked, letting her hand fall to rest on the top of Rebel’s head.

  “Do you know of anyone that would want to harm your father?” the younger cop asked, his chest still puffed up with importance.

  “He was a lawyer,” Molly said flatly. “I’m sure there were a lot of people, but no one that I know.”

  “Have you ever seen this man?” the young cop asked, setting a photograph down on the table.

  Molly inhaled sharply and jerked away, shaking her head as she got a good look at the dead Russian’s face and the steak knife stuck in the side of his neck.

  “Jesus Christ,” I snapped, looking back at the cops. “You serious right now?”

  “Sorry,” the young cop mumbled, picking the photo back up.

  “Okay,” the older cop said, shooting an irritated look at the younger one. “We’ll keep in touch.”

  He turned to walk away, but before I could relax, Molly spoke.

  “Wait!” she called, making the cop spin back around. “Should I—do I need to call a funeral parlor or something? I don’t . . .” Her words drifted into nothing, and my stomach clenched at how young she sounded. Real.

  “Since it’s an ongoing investigation, it’ll be bit before we can release the—your father’s body,” the older cop said kindly. “But we’ll let you know as soon as we’ve got a timeline.”

  “Thank you,” Molly said softly.

  With a nod, the officer turned and walked away, the younger cop following in his wake like an overeager puppy.

  Molly dropped down into the seat next to me and wrapped her arm around Reb’s shoulder.

  “Man,” Rebel said, wrinkling her nose as she wiped her finger over her top lip.

  “Yeah, that was a pretty epic mustache, huh?” Molly replied, laughing a little.

  Rebel woofed and Molly laughed harder.

  “Did she just say that cop looked like a dog?” I asked, unable to keep the laughter from my voice.

  “Dog,” Rebel copied, dropping to the floor. She started crawling around and I cringed at the thought of everything that had been spilled on that floor. I’d need to clean her hands as soon as she got up.

  “One of the therapists she goes to has this little dog, and the hair on his muzzle looks exactly like a mustache,” Molly explained, watching Reb crawling around like a puppy and shaking her little butt.

  “Cops are pigs, baby girl,” I told her in amusement, making Molly elbow me in the side. “Oink.”

  Rebel started snorting and I couldn’t help the loud laugh that spilled from my mouth.

  “Don’t teach her that,” Molly snapped, but I could see her swollen lips inching into a smile.

  My dad crossed the room to us and stopped on the other side of the table, meeting Molly’s eyes. “Did good,” he told her.

  “You hear her tell them that her co-workers thought I beat her?” I asked incredulously.

  My dad’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Good to see you sweat a little.”

  “Fuck off,” I replied with a grin.

  Molly sighed and leaned toward the table, bracing herself on her good arm. “None of this is funny,” she whispered, reaching up to touch her eyes before dropping her hand to the table.

  “Gotta find the humor when you can,” my dad told her seriously. “’Specially in times like this.” He rapped his knuckles twice on the table then strode off, stepping around Rebel, who’d plopped down on her bottom and was scratching at the side of her head.

  “Do you think they’ll come back?” Molly asked, leaning back to look at me. “The cops?”

  “Nah, Dad’s right. You did good.”

  “They believed me?”

  “Yeah. Probably helped that we’ve got a busted up four wheeler sitting on a trailer out front.”

  “How the hell did you manage that?” she asked, looking at me in surprise.

  “Tommy wrecked it two months ago.” I leaned forward and brushed my lips across hers before she could move away. She was doing so good. Most other women would be losing their shit—but not Molly. She was the easiest woman I’d ever met. No drama. She was hurting, you could tell by every expression on her face and every movement of her body, but she wasn’t complaining and she wasn’t hysterical. I got to my feet and inched around her, sliding my hand across her shoulders as I went. “Come on, Reb,” I called, picking the little girl up off the floor. “Let’s go wash your hands before you get salmonella or some shit.”

  * * *

  “They’re holed up in Ontario,” Poet announced, dropping down into a chair in church later that night. “Not bein’ quiet about it, the stupid bastards.”

  “Why Ontario?” Samson asked.

  “Probably because the fuckin’ feds are scouring Idaho for them,” Casper replied.

  “So what are we going to do?” Hulk asked, popping his neck. I hated when he did that. Fucking disgusting.

  “Rock should be back tomorrow morning,” Dragon said, leaning back in his chair. “We could leave then.”

  “Goin’ after them, then,” Hulk murmured.

  “Duncan was one of ours,” my dad said quietly. “Might not’a been wearin’ a patch, but he was a good friend to the club for a lotta years.”

  “Got his daughter here, too,” Poet pointed out. “Moose’s girl.”

  “And she’s beat to shit,” my dad agreed, meeting my eyes. “Can’t let that stand.”

  I nodded in thanks.

  “Casper, you and Samson’ll stick back on this one,” Dragon said.

  “Don’t mind goin’,” Casper replied.

  “Know you don’t.” Dragon nodded. “But Grease is comin’ with me and I need you here.”

  “Alright.”

  “Once Rock gets here tomorrow, we’ll fill him in and take off. Me, Grease, Hulk and Moose. Probably Homer and Shady, too. They’re too good as lookouts to leave behind.”

  I inhaled deeply at the thought of getting ahold of the guy that had messed up my woman’s face and broken her arm. I wanted to tear him apart. From what Molly had told Dragon and my dad, the guy was massive, as big as Cam. I was looking forward to teaching him how it felt to be at someone’s mercy, then giving him none.

  “Molly’s got her appointment tomorrow, doesn’t she?” my dad asked, breaking me out of my fantasies.

  “Yeah, might have to knock her out to set the bone,” I replied. “Probably not, though.”

  “Chance of it,” Dad said. />
  “Yeah.”

  “You sure you don’t wanna duck out of this one?”

  “You kidding?” I asked, glancing around the table. “I’m there.”

  “Alright,” Dad said with a nod.

  We went over the route we’d take and the stops we’d make on the way to Ontario, running through different possibilities for the next half hour. We didn’t always plan out every single move we made, but when we were dealing with the Russian mob, we had to make sure all of our shit was tight. Ontario was just this side of the Idaho-Oregon border and was an easy day trip. We’d have to spend the night somewhere on the way back, but we’d be gone less than two days, no problem.

  By the time we left the room, I was jacked up at the thought of taking off the next day. I’d been going on runs for the past few years, but none of them had caused adrenaline like I was dealing with then. Those past runs had felt mandatory. Sometimes I’d felt satisfaction that I’d been chosen to go, sometimes I’d been annoyed, but I’d never been practically frothing at the mouth as I waited to leave. If I could have, I would have left the minute I walked out of church.

  “Molly and Rebel went to bed,” my mom told me with a sleepy smile. “I think we wore them out today.”

  “Molly needs to rest, Mom,” I replied with a frown. I’d spent most of my day in the garage finishing up a car that I’d said would be done the next day. I’d known that shit was going to go down soon, and I wanted to make sure that the owner didn’t have to wait because I hadn’t finished my job.

  “She spent the whole day on the couch,” my mom assured me, leaning in to give me a quick hug. “But there’ve been people packing up and leaving all day, so it wasn’t exactly relaxing for her.”

  “I need to get her home,” I mumbled, scratching at my beard.

  “Well, she can’t go back yet,” my mom said as my dad came up behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Better safe than sorry.”

  “She can stay with your mother tomorrow night,” my dad said, making my mom glare at him.

  “Of course she can,” she told me, “but you could’ve asked.”

  “You pickin’ a fight?” my dad asked with a grin.

  I’d heard that a million times growing up. Without a word, I turned and walked away before I had to start watching my dad playing grab ass.

  I let myself into my dark room and shut the door behind me, moving around by memory. I almost landed on my face when I tripped over Reb’s bag, but caught myself before I hit the floor.

  “You can turn on the light,” Molly’s soft voice called out in the dark. “Rebel won’t wake up.”

  I reached over and flipped on the lamp. Molly was laying on the outside of the bed facing my way, her hair pulled into a knot at the top of her head.

  “Nice hair,” I said quietly, sliding my cut down my shoulders.

  “I asked Farrah to pull it out of my face, it was driving me nuts.”

  “You look like a skinny sumo wrestler.”

  “But it’s out of my face,” she said with a small shrug. I didn’t know why she kept doing that. I could see the pain in her eyes every time she moved her shoulders.

  “How’s the arm?” I asked as I pulled my t-shirt off. I’d slept in one the night before and I’d kept waking up thinking someone was trying to strangle me.

  “It’s throbbing,” she admitted. “I’ll be glad to have it set and casted.”

  “Then you just gotta deal with it itching and not bein’ able to reach it.”

  She watched me unashamedly as I kicked off my boots and dropped my jeans to the floor, so I took my time setting my wallet and my keys on the dresser before I grabbed a pair of sweats and slipped them on.

  “You didn’t wear sweats before,” she said as I turned off the lamp and walked toward the bed.

  “Reb’s gettin’ older,” I murmured as I leaned down and moved her to the middle of the bed. She was going to be squished in between me and Rebel and I was hoping Reb would spread out like she’d done the night before so that Molly would have to stay curled up against me.

  Molly let me pull her close to my side as I settled in, being extra careful not to put pressure her arm. “Can you keep her tomorrow while I have my arm set?” she asked. Shit.

  I sighed and ran a fingertip over her shoulder. “Can’t.”

  “Oh,” she replied, her body stiffening just a little. “Amy’s bringing me to the appointment, so I just thought . . .”

  “Headin’ out in the morning, sugar,” I said against the top of her head. “Won’t be here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Not a question you get to ask.”

  She jerked and her body stiffened even more. “Fine.”

  “Don’t do that,” I murmured, running my hand down her back.

  “Do you think your mom will keep Rebel for me?” she asked, ignoring my softly spoken order.

  “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure Mel will be here in the morning.”

  “Thank God,” Molly said, her body relaxing again. “She’ll take care of everything.”

  She said it like it was a foregone conclusion. Like I hadn’t been taking care of her since the minute I’d seen her all beaten and bloody. Like it was a relief that she finally had someone to lean on, even though I’d been trying to be that person for her. I’d obviously been failing at that.

  “Go to sleep, sugar,” I said quietly. I rolled to my back and Molly moved with me, resting her head on my chest.

  It didn’t matter if she never fell asleep that way again, I still knew that I’d never be done with her. After a year and a half of no contact, she still did it for me. I smiled as Rebel snorted in her sleep. I wasn’t going to walk away again.

  Chapter 17

  Molly

  “Where is she?” my best friend’s voice yelled frantically from outside. I pushed myself up off the couch and stepped around Rebel just as Melanie came barreling through the front door of the club. She searched the room and as soon as she saw me, burst into tears. “Oh, my God, Moll.”

  “I’m okay,” I said as she came toward me. “It’s just a broken arm.”

  “And your face! Holy hell.”

  “It looks worse than it is,” I promised.

  “Your dad . . .” she whispered, glancing at Rebel.

  “I know.”

  She hugged me gently, not letting go for a long time.

  “This is insane,” she mumbled as she let go, leaning back to look at my face again.

  “I have to go in to get my arm casted today,” I said, ignoring the question in her eyes. “Can you keep Reb for me?”

  “Of course,” she replied immediately. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

  “Will’s leaving today—”

  “What?” she interrupted incredulously.

  “So I need you with Rebel.”

  “What a dick,” Mel spat.

  “That’s Will,” I replied with a small deprecating laugh. “He’s got places to be and people to see.”

  “Are you two a thing again?”

  “No. Nothing’s changed,” I replied sitting back down on the couch. She followed me, saying hello to Rebel as she sat down beside me.

  “I can’t believe he’s going to just leave.”

  “It’s fine, Mel,” I said, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to us. “Just leave it.”

  “What happened?” she said quietly, turning to face me. “Grease said that some guys killed your dad?”

  “I don’t know,” I hedged, not meeting her eyes.

  “They already told me, dumbass,” Mel said dryly. “I know that you were there and that’s how you got all that.” She waved her hand in a circle in front of my face. “Do you know why?”

  “No.” I shook my head, and looked down at Rebel just as she looked up at me, wiggling the stuffed dog she was holding and lifting her eyebrows up and down. Silly girl. “I don’t know what happened. We showed up because my dad was supposed to wa
tch Rebel so I could work, and there were three Russian guys in his house.”

  “Russian?” Mel asked, snapping up straight. “Are you sure?”

  “They sounded Russian,” I answered, watching her closely. “Why?”

  “It’s just weird. Why would some Russian guys be pissed at your dad?”

  “No idea.”

  “There’s my girls,” Rocky called as he came through the front door.

  “Rock!” Rebel yelled back. She nodded her head, but didn’t get up from her spot on the floor as he moved toward us. She was practically vibrating with excitement, though.

  “How you doin’, little Rebel?” he asked, crouching down and raising his hand so Reb would give him a high-five. Rebel smiled as she smacked his hand, but she didn’t answer him.

  “Hey, Molly,” Rock said, standing up again. “How you doin’, girl?”

  “I’m sore,” I said dryly. “But okay.”

  “Sorry about your dad.” He moved around the couch and sat on one of the arms next to Mel. “He was a good guy.”

  “Molly says the guys who did it were Russian,” Melanie told Rocky, looking at him intently.

  “You know why?” Rock asked me as he set his hand on the back of Mel’s neck.

  “No,” I replied, shaking my head. That hand on the back of Mel’s neck didn’t look like comfort. It looked like a warning.

  “Sucks,” Rocky said. “You need anything, you let Mel and I know.”

  “I just want my dad back,” I said darkly, brushing my hair away from my face. “I just want to go back to the way it was before.”

  I stood up and stepped over Rebel, meeting Melanie’s eyes for a minute to make sure she’d stay with the baby. Then I walked back to Will’s room. Tears blurred my eyes as I knelt in front of the bag of clothes. I wanted my dad. I needed him to tell me that everything was going to be okay.

  I was stuck in that clubhouse like a prisoner, and even though I knew they were just trying to keep me safe, the walls seemed to be closing in around me. I needed my own bed. I wanted to cook dinner and take a shower with my own toiletries, and be able to poop without wondering who was going to use the bathroom after I did. I wanted to take Rebel home. She needed her toys and her clothes. She needed to sleep in her own bed and eat at her own spot at the table. Routines were important for her, and even though she hadn’t completely freaked out yet, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t building behind her eyes.