Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Do you want to get something to eat?” I ask.
“I already ate.”
Did Torch take her out to dinner? Did she eat at the bar with Remy? Grab a burger from Pax before I got here?
The last shack stands empty. The door’s ajar and I open it wider, motioning Molly inside.
She frowns and stares back at the path we just followed.
“It’s cold out,” I explain.
“Okay.”
Inside, I flip a switch by the door. Dim yellow light flickers above us, barely chasing away the shadows. It isn’t much warmer in here than it is outside. The front windows are shuttered, so no one can see us at least. I push the door closed but don’t latch it.
Molly frowns at the door.
I step closer and she backs up until her butt hits an old, wooden counter.
Where should I start?
I clear my throat. “Can I ask you something?”
She lifts her head and I feel the heat of her glare shooting out from behind the mask. I used to think her pissy little death-glares were cute, but that’s just because I was never on the receiving end of a serious one before. There’s no humor hiding behind her expression. Just raw hurt and disappointment pursing her lips.
“Go ahead,” she challenges.
I flick one of the tall, leather bunny ears on her head. “What are you supposed to be?”
Her defensive stance softens a fraction. “A devil bunny.”
Leave it to Molly to always come up with something clever from her own imagination. “Ahh, cute but deadly?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Yup.”
“Can you take it off for a minute?”
She mashes her lips together, like she’s about to tell me to go fuck myself with the nearest rigid object, but then she reaches behind her head. There’s a sharp click. She carefully pulls the mask off and sets it on the counter behind her, then runs her fingers through her hair.
“Stop.” I grab one of her hands. “Your hair’s fine.”
“It’s all flat and sweaty.” She yanks her hand away but stops trying to tame her wild waves.
Finally, I can see her face.
There’s my girl.
Well, my girl with bloodred lipstick and dark, sparkly shadow smudged around her eyes. I kinda like the elaborate makeup, though.
Molly could wear anything and paint her face any way she wanted, and I’d still think she’s the most beautiful woman in the world.
“What’d you want to talk about?” She lifts her chin and the glare returns.
“Everything. I missed you.”
You’re my girl.
Mine, mine, mine.
Nothing you saw on television was real.
“Weird way of showing it.” She shrugs as if she doesn’t care one way or another.
“I tried calling and texting you as soon as I got my phone back, but you blocked my number.” That sounds weak as fuck, but I don’t want to talk about how broken my body was when I returned home. And I’m not ready to admit to stalking her on campus, either.
Her chin trembles. She wraps her arms around her middle even tighter. Like she’s doing everything she can to stop herself from coming apart.
“Molly, everything you saw was a lie. I didn’t…I’d never…” My words falter as she crumbles. “I’d never do that to you. To us. I swear.”
Twin tears glisten on her lashes, then spill, dragging inky trails down her cheeks.
“Baby, please don’t cry.” I cup her face and swipe my thumb over her cheek. “Please.” My own voice breaks.
“I can’t do this,” she whispers.
Her words are a punch in the gut.
“Molly, please,” I plead. “All I’ve wanted to do is talk to you.” I snort a humorless laugh. “Without someone listening in.”
At the mere mention of the show, Molly’s body freezes. The hurt in her eyes hardens into ice. She brushes my hand away from her face.
Wrong move, Royal.
Why’d I have to say that?
“So, did you win the whole thing?” she asks in a caustic tone I’ve never heard from Molly. “Was it worth it?”
Fuck contracts or lawsuits. Any questions she asks about the show I have to answer honestly. “No.”
“Sorry to hear that,” she says without an ounce of sympathy behind the words.
“Please talk to me. Tell me about school.”
“School’s fine.” She scoffs. “Thankfully no one’s recognized me there. Or if they did, they had the decency not to say anything.” She casts a stink-eye toward the door. “Unlike around here.”
My stomach knots. “Remy told me how bad it was. I’m sorry. I didn’t know they—”
“I can’t.” She throws one hand up in a clear stop gesture and shrugs off my coat. “Here.”
“Wait. Molly, we still need to—”
“No we don’t.” She shoves the coat at me and swipes the mask off the counter.
I grab the woolen bundle and tuck it under my arm. “You sure you don’t want it? It’s still cold out.”
“I’m fine.” She slips the mask over her head and adjusts the snaps in the back.
My turf or not, this was the wrong place to try to talk to her. “How long are you going to be home?”