Read Craving Molly Page 17


  I shouldn’t be driving. I could barely even see without my glasses, and I was bleary-eyed with pain.

  I slammed the car into drive and braced my left arm against my chest as I spun the car around, spitting gravel at the man climbing into the car I hadn’t recognized when I’d pulled up earlier. A quick glance in the mirror told me that he was following me, and I sobbed as I raced down the driveway, each pot hole jostling my small car so much that little whimpers left my mouth.

  When I got to the road, I turned right. I didn’t think it over or debate about it. I just hit the accelerator and tore down the road in the opposite direction of town. It would take me too long to get there and the man was right behind me. There was no one at my house. If I went to the police station, he’d kill me before I even got inside.

  There was only one place that I knew people would greet me the minute I pulled up.

  Less than five minutes later, I was at the Aces MC gates.

  I didn’t stop the car until my front bumper had hit the chain link.

  “What the fuck?” one of the men standing on the other side of the fence yelled.

  I looked in my rearview mirror to see the man race past my car, not even slowing.

  “You lost, lady?” the other guy at the gate asked.

  I shook my head, and reached across myself to open my door.

  “Stay in your car,” the kid called again. He seemed young.

  Then I realized it was Tommy Hawthorne.

  “Tommy,” I rasped, practically falling out of my car. “Men—”

  I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “Molly?” he asked dubiously, rushing for the center of the gate where a large chain held it closed.

  “My dad’s house. Russian men.”

  “Holy fuck!” he blurted as he got the gate open. “Go get help!”

  The other guy went running as Tommy finally opened up the gate.

  “Where’s the baby?” he asked, lifting his arms like he wasn’t sure where to touch me, or if he should.

  “Backseat,” I answered, just as I started sobbing in relief.

  Chapter 14

  Will

  My mother was a pain in my ass. She irritated the hell out of me, but I loved her so I could never tell her no. Even when she asked me to climb up on the makeshift stage at her birthday barbeque and jam with Leo and Trix like we were the fucking Partridge family.

  Which was what I was doing at that moment.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d asked me to do it, and it probably wouldn’t be the last time—but I wasn’t in the mood. Trix and Leo were insanely good. The brother and sister came by their talent naturally. I’d seen their mom, Brenna, wail on the drums more than once and I’d heard that she could play a shit load of other instruments by ear. Her kids seemed to have followed in her footsteps. Both could play the drums, guitar and who knew what other instruments like they were born to do it, but I just barely got by on my bass, which made me feel like an even bigger asshole when I played with them.

  We’d been playing at the barbeques on and off since we were kids, and for the past few years had started out our tried-and-true set with the same song. It was a tribute of sorts, and it didn’t matter how many times we played it, all the women of the club stopped whatever they were doing and stood still, watching us. “I Will Follow You into the Dark” by Death Cab for Cutie wasn’t really the older generation’s style, but when Trix had sung it exactly a year after the shooting that had killed my little brother, great-grandmother, the Aces’ president, Slider, and his wife, Vera, everyone had stopped and stared. A song about following your spouse when they died, even if heaven and hell wouldn’t take them—well, that resonated with the rowdy bikers and their old ladies. It was also extremely fitting for our fallen president and his wife.

  I glanced at my mom and met her eyes as Trix sang, and I couldn’t help but nod when she mouthed ‘thank you.’ Yeah, I’d do anything for that woman and she knew it. Thank God. She hadn’t talked to me for weeks after I’d gone off on her the year before, but she’d eventually forgiven me.

  As soon as the first song was over, we fell into a familiar pattern of songs that rarely changed. Leo sang most of them and Trix had a couple, too, but I kept my mouth clenched shut. I wasn’t singing, I didn’t care what kind of puppy dog eyes my mother gave me. I was fucking twenty-three years old, goddamnit. I’d been to prison. I wore an Aces cut. I made my own damn decisions. Just for good measure, I didn’t look her way again.

  We knew the songs, knew that everyone liked them, and knew we could get our asses off the stage when we hit the end of our short list. So I was surprised as fuck when a few songs in, Leo completely stopped drumming and singing—well, yelling. We didn’t have any mics or anything, so he had to sing pretty loud.

  My hands went still as I glanced over my shoulder at him. He was staring emotionlessly off to the side of the clubhouse, and when I followed his line of sight, I cursed under my breath.

  Fucking Cecilia.

  She’d just shown up in a barely decent top that I sure as fuck didn’t want to see on my little cousin, and was chatting with a prospect. She knew that shit would piss Leo off. I had no clue what was going on with them, but they’d been dancing around each other, fighting and making up for the past few years.

  Trix stopped when she realized we were no longer playing, and she turned abruptly to her brother.

  It only took seconds for both of us to stop playing, but that must have been what Leo was looking for, because as soon as we were silent, he started yelling/singing again.

  “La, La, Lalala,” he sang, a nasty smile on his face as he started drumming.

  Oh, shit. The familiar Offspring song made me groan and I immediately looked at Cam, who was standing near Trix’s side of the stage with their sons playing in the grass at his feet.

  He was livid at Leo’s choice of music. It was a good song, but fuck, “Self Esteem” was about a chick that kept fucking around on her man and he just kept taking her back.

  And Leo was staring right at Cecilia while he sang it.

  Trix looked at her feet, then glanced my way, shrugging her shoulders as she started to play. She wasn’t about to leave her brother hanging, even if he was making a complete jackass out of himself. My fingers hit the notes on my bass without thought and I shrugged back as I joined in.

  I watched the crowd as a few of the guys started laughing, but my dad, Uncle Casper and Dragon were not amused.

  They were even less amused when my little sister, Rose, led our cousin Lily onto the grass directly in front of the stage. The two had been practically inseparable since they were born just six months apart, so it wasn’t surprising to see them together. What was surprising was the fact that they must not have felt the tension that filled the field we were standing in. As they came to a stop, Lily’s head was nodding along with the beat, her thin, fourteen-year-old shoulders moving slightly while Rose stood still next to her.

  Then my baby cousin surprised the fuck out of me when she started rocking. Hard.

  I couldn’t help but grin when Lily suddenly let go of Rose and threw up devil horns, her hair flying all over the place as she danced. She was really fucking moving, jumping and whipping her hair around, and most of the crowd around us stopped to stare. They weren’t being rude—most had smiles on their faces, but they were definitely staring.

  My little sister looked around with a scowl, then got this determined look on her face. I knew that fucking look, and I felt my shoulders get tight as I watched her.

  My shoulders relaxed again as Rose began to move. She was tentative at first, barely nodding her head. Then she closed her eyes, shook out her arms, and started jumping and jerking alongside Lily. Making sure that the crowd was watching both of them.

  Christ, I loved that kid.

  Leo screamed out the lyrics about his girl sleeping with his friends, then his voice abruptly cut off as he caught sight of the girls dancing in front of us.

  Tr
ix and I stopped, too, and it irritated the shit out of me. Couldn’t we make it through one fucking song? I wanted to finish out the fucking set and get off that damn stage.

  “Hey,” Lily yelled, pulling my attention forward again.

  She turned her face toward the stage, her unfocused eyes pointed in our direction. “I want more Offspring.”

  I smiled as Leo chuckled. “Nah,” he called out quietly, knowing Lily would hear him. “Pretty girl deserves a pretty girl song.”

  Leo met Trix’s eyes and I had no idea how she knew, but she immediately started playing. I laughed quietly, then joined in, looking back at Leo for a second.

  His eyes were soft—that’s the only way I knew how to explain it. They were tender, indulgent, and they were pointed right at Lily, who was smiling sweetly as her hips moved from side to side, her arms high above her head.

  Leo sang the first verse of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” in his gravelly voice.

  Lily’s mom—my Aunt Farrah—whooped loudly, then made her way to our little makeshift stage, shaking her hips and singing along. My mom and Brenna followed her, shaking their asses, too, and I started laughing.

  They were all dancing like crazy and signing along, and Lily was smiling so huge, her cheeks must have been aching.

  Leo didn’t take his eyes off Lily as she spun around and around in a circle.

  We went through a lot more songs after that, and I couldn’t even let myself bitch about it. Brenna’s pop, Poet, and his wife, Amy, were dancing, his hands on her ass to the side of the stage. From the look on my mom’s face as she sat on my dad’s lap, he was singing in her ear, and Dragon and Brenna had disappeared not long after he’d pulled her from the dance floor and threw her over his shoulder.

  It was fucking awesome to see everyone so happy. There was a time only a few years before that I hadn’t imagined any of us laughing or having a good time again.

  When we were finally done for the night and the boys were setting up the sound system, I had sweat pooling at the base of my spine and I was pretty sure I stank. Did I remember to put on deodorant that day? I wasn’t completely sure—but I decided I’d just keep my arms down until I could grab a quick shower inside the clubhouse.

  I was setting my bass back in its case when a bunch of loud voices came from the edge of the clubhouse to my left, not far from where Cecilia had been standing earlier. My heart thumped hard in my chest at the commotion, and my head snapped up to analyze the threat. I’d been caught unprepared in the past, but I never would again.

  Then my jaw dropped as Samson and a prospect—I could never remember his name—came around the back, half dragging and half carrying a girl between them.

  What the fuck?

  My stomach sank as I recognized the yellow and blue scrubs with purple fish the woman was wearing and I jumped down off the stage, my bass forgotten as I jogged toward them.

  It couldn’t be her. No way. She wouldn’t come out to the clubhouse.

  I took the woman in fully from head to toe. Fuck.

  She was bloody. Her scrubs were ripped and her head was rolling on her shoulders as she tried really hard to keep her feet under her.

  I told myself that lots of women probably wore those scrubs. Lots of women had that color hair and those same ugly as fuck tennis shoes. I’d almost convinced myself when her head rolled to the side and I caught a glimpse of her face. Her blue eyes met mine, and she let out a short sob.

  No.

  “Will,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

  “Aw, fuck, sweetheart,” I groaned, lurching forward so I could pull her slight frame gingerly into my arms. “What the fuck happened?”

  “Some Russian guys were at my dad’s,” Molly whimpered in confusion. “I don’t—I don’t know what they wanted.”

  I opened my mouth to curse when my name was called. I jerked my head up as I wrapped my arm around Molly’s waist and found my little brother carrying Rebel across the grass. She was squirming hard trying to get down, but he held her fast as he hurried toward me.

  “She’s fine,” he said, catching my eyes. “It’s just Molly.”

  “Bad business making war with children,” Molly said quietly, her Russian accent spot-on.

  “Oh, God,” my mom said as she came hurrying across the yard. There were still people everywhere, but they’d quieted down and were staring as I lifted Molly into my arms. She moaned deeply as I moved her, and that’s when I saw her arm. It was black and blue and swollen as hell.

  “Someone get Dragon!” my dad yelled. “Samson, Hulk, Casper, meet you out front.”

  I hadn’t even realized that he’d come up behind me.

  “What happened?” my dad barked as I carried Molly toward my room. My heart was beating so hard, I wondered if I was about to have a heart attack.

  “I went to my dad’s house,” Molly slurred as her eyes found Rebel in Tommy’s arms. He was keeping pace with us, just enough distance between us that he wasn’t in my way, but close enough that Rebel could see her mom. After she’d called my name, she’d gone silent, but she watched Molly like a hawk.

  “Who was there?” my dad asked patiently as my mom held open the back door to the clubhouse.

  “Three guys. Two big, one little. No—fat. Short and fat.” More blood came out of her mouth and I didn’t know if it was from cuts in her mouth or something else. I barely breathed as my dad swung open the door to my room and I stepped inside.

  “Russian?” my dad asked as Farrah came running into the room with Brenna and Dragon on her heels.

  “I think so,” Molly said, pushing against me as I tried to lay her down on the bed. I stepped back just in time for her to sit back up, holding that swollen arm against her belly. “They didn’t introduce themselves, but they sounded like Russian accents.”

  “Lots of eastern Europeans have similar accents,” Dragon said, leaning against the doorframe.

  “I might be wrong,” Molly admitted as Tommy carried Rebel into the room. “Come here, boo.”

  Tommy set Rebel on her feet, and she walked slowly to Molly, peeking up at all the strangers as she went. Without thought, I grabbed her under the armpits and hefted her onto the bed. She’d grown a lot since I’d seen her last.

  “They’re at your dad’s place?” my dad asked.

  “They were when we left,” Molly answered, wincing as Reb leaned against her side. Her little face was hidden in Molly’s arm pit.

  “Why’d you come here?” Dragon barked, making Molly’s eyes drop to the floor.

  “I shouldn’t have,” she choked out, bracing one arm on the bed as she tried to stand back up.

  I jerked toward her, sure she was going down, when Dragon spoke again.

  “You’re Duncan’s kid—always welcome here. Sit your ass back down.” He sighed. “We’ll head on over to your pop’s, see what’s goin’ on.”

  “You’ll be too late,” Molly said seriously, lifting her eyes from the floor. “They wanted a list and he said he’d give it if they let me go. He’s already dead.”

  “Motherfuck!” Casper hissed from the doorway.

  “Gotta go,” my dad said, kissing my mom’s lips as he left the room.

  “Be back soon,” Dragon said to Brenna, pulling her in for a kiss as he left.

  “Don’t kiss me, just go,” Farrah ordered Casper, making him grin. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Love you.”

  “If you get yourself hurt, I’ll cut your balls off,” she snapped, moving toward Molly. “I love you, too.”

  Tommy followed them out of the room, and it was just me and the women. I had no idea what the fuck to do. Part of me was anxious to follow my brothers, but I couldn’t make my feet move. It was the closest I’d been to Molly and Rebel in over a year and I couldn’t make myself walk away. A few seconds later, I heard the roar of pipes and realized my decision had been made for me. They were leaving me behind.

  “What hurts?” my mom asked gently as she crouched down in front
of Molly.

  “Everything,” she mumbled through swollen lips. Her words grew more garbled by the minute, probably from the swelling. It would get worse before it was better.

  “Are you okay?” Amy asked as she pushed in the door, closing it behind her. She took in Molly’s appearance, then met her gaze straight on. “You want Will out of the room?” Something in her voice made me stiffen, looking down at Molly’s scrub bottoms that were covered in blood.

  “I don’t care,” Molly mumbled, her eyes quickly flickering toward me. Farrah handed Rebel her phone with some obnoxious game showing on the screen and sat next to her, speaking quietly until Rebel moved out from under Molly’s arm.

  “Gotta take off that top to see what we’re workin’ with,” Amy said calmly, moving farther into the room as my mom got out of her way.

  “You sound like a porn director at a casting call,” Farrah mumbled, making Molly huff a laugh, a lopsided grin pulling at her lips.

  “You didn’t make the cut, get out,” Amy said to Farrah in amusement. Then her face fell as she saw Molly’s arm.

  “It’s broken,” Molly explained. “I can tell.”

  “I broke mine in the same place, once,” my mom murmured in commiseration, making Farrah stiffen. “Hurts like a bitch.”

  “It’s pretty numb now, unless I move it,” Molly replied.

  “We’ll need to cut that shirt off,” Trix finally said from the corner. “Gimme your knife, Will.”

  “I’ll do it,” I barked. I didn’t know why I said it.

  “William,” my mom started to say before Molly cut her off.

  “It’s okay,” she murmured, her voice small. “Will can do it.”

  I turned to Molly and met her swollen eyes, my throat going tight. She didn’t know these women. She’d only met Trix a couple times, and she hadn’t been around my mom for any length of time since we were kids. She didn’t know that Amy would know best how to help her. She didn’t know that Farrah was all sharp edges but was the softest hearted of the bunch. She didn’t know that my mom would baby her, and Trix wouldn’t really know how to help but she’d be there, willing to pitch in however she could.