Текст книги "Out Of The Blue"
Автор книги: Carina Adams
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)
She watched me for a second before nodding. “I’m going to check on dinner.” She reached for my mug. “You go get your shower.”
I watched her walk away, confused by the talk we’d just had. She had been genuinely happy to see Molly when we got here. I had no doubt about that. But there was something there, something that made me uncomfortable. Maybe we wouldn’t stay as long as I’d planned.
Chapter Eleven
~ Molly ~
I was home.
That was the first thought I had when I opened my eyes. It had been a long time, but some things, like the feeling of waking up in your childhood home, never change. It wasn’t my bed, or my room, but it was home.
I’d been having the best dream, and although I couldn’t remember all the details, I knew it was a happy one. About Mike. I stretched out, arms above my head, toes pointing down, only wincing a little at the ache in my back when I realized I was incredibly warm. It was always hot in this room during the summer, but I was burning up. As my mind cleared, I began to notice little things—like how I was now under a blanket, even though I hadn’t covered up before I laid down. There was a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water on my nightstand, and my bag was on the chair next to my bed.
Mike.
As if he had a sixth sense and knew I was awake, the door opened and heavy footsteps hurried up the stairs. Sitting up, I smiled as he stepped into the room. He startled when he saw me.
“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. He was fully clothed, but it was clear he’d come straight from the shower, his dark hair a damp mess, as if he’d just towel dried it. He smelled heavenly, a mixture of sandalwood and something else I couldn’t distinguish without sniffing the air and giving my intentions away. And the look he gave me? It was enough to wet a nun’s panties.
His face fell suddenly. “You okay, kid?” He hurried over to me, plopping down next to my legs, and grabbed my chin in his fingers. “What’s wrong? Headache? Your back hurt?”
I cleared my throat and said, “I’m sore, but I’m fine. Sorry.” I offered a weak smile as I rubbed my eyes. “I just woke up and I was confused for a second.”
“I was a little discombobulated when I first woke up.” He didn’t take his eyes off mine. “You sure you’re okay?”
The man couldn’t be more perfect if he tried. He was a package of funny and sweet mixed with serious and sour, all rolled into one hell of a hot shell. I stared back at him, trying to figure out why I’d never noticed. He’d been attractive before, all the boys on the tour were cute in their own way. But now, with his new hair color and the scruff he seemed to constantly sport, he was beautiful.
“Why did you really dye your hair?”
Mike arched a brow as a smile tugged at his lips. “Why did you?”
Asshat. “I needed a change.”
“I could say that I needed one, too. Or maybe I just wanted to be someone else for a while. Try things I’ve never done.” As he spoke, his eyes drifted down my face, landing on my lips as his teeth dragged across his own.
“That makes sense.” I swallowed and leaned back, pulling away from him. I needed space, being this close to him was fucking with my mind. “What time is it?”
“Dinner time.” He chuckled. “Your mom sent me to get you.”
I grinned. That sounded like her. “There’ll be hell to pay if we keep her waiting.” I pushed off the bed and bounced down the stairs, stopping at the bathroom. “Tell her I’ll be right there?”
I slammed the door and stared at myself in the mirror, telling the woman gazing back at me that whatever she was feeling, whatever bit of attraction she had toward him, it was all fake. It was circumstantial. The last few days had been strange, even for a woman who was used to living in a fog and shuffling from city to city.
I was overly tired and sex deprived.
That thought immediately merged with one of the two of us naked, wrapped up together. I turned on the cold water, splashing my face. Mike was not an option. He was my friend and employee. Plus, he was in love with the woman who I considered my dearest female friend. Crossing those lines with someone on your payroll was morally wrong. Getting involved with a man who was taken, even if he was technically single, was not smart.
It could never happen.
Glancing back up at my reflection, I narrowed my eyes and criticized my imperfections. Did Mike even want someone like me? Yeah, we’d had a few moments. But I wasn’t even close to being as beautiful, or as interesting, as Lia.
It was my turn to be startled when I opened the door a few minutes later and found him leaning against the wall. “What are you doing?” I asked.
Christ, that sexy smirk would be the death of me. “Waiting for you.” His hand found the small of my back as I walked past him, and he led me down the stairs and through the house, only moving his hand when I reached my chair.
“Meatloaf.” I squealed, more than excited by the idea of eating my favorite meal. No one made meatloaf like my mom.
We ate in relative silence, my mom and Mike trying—and giving up—to make small talk. When Mom offered me seconds, I hesitated. I wanted more. Hell, I could probably eat the entire pan. But Eli’s words were never far from my mind, warning me that fat singers never got anywhere, and I shook my head.
Mike accepted the pan she offered him, cutting a large piece out. Before I could object, he dropped it onto my plate. “Eat.”
I glared at him for a second, but he ignored me, turning to my mom and telling her how great the meal was. I thought about putting it back, or not eating it, but it smelled too good to pass up. I could always go for a long run later. And do yoga before bed. I shrugged, shoveling a piece into my mouth.
Mom refused to let me do the dishes. After we helped her clear the table, she kicked us out of the house with instructions for me to show Mike the property. “Take him down to the falls,” she said, waving a dish towel at me.
We walked side by side down the road, each lost in our own thoughts. At the little wooden bridge, we turned south and followed Clifford Brook until we came to the falls. Not only was it absolutely beautiful to see, but the lower falls lead to a water-carved section of rock that is an amazing swimming hole on hot summer days. Days like today.
“I didn’t think to bring a suit,” I muttered, glancing longingly at the cool water, “or we could’ve gone swimming.”
“Who needs a suit?” Mike reached for the button on his jeans, unsnapping them and letting them drop before my mind could formulate an argument. Within minutes, he stood in front of me in nothing but black cotton boxer briefs. “You coming?”
I hesitated. I had changed into yoga pants and a tee shirt after the show last night, but I hadn’t changed out of my underwear or bra. The panties were fine, black lace boy shorts that wouldn’t show through even if they got wet. But my bra barely contained me out of water. I shook my head. “Naw. I’m good.”
Mike stepped into the water and then turned to me. “Get your ass in here, Mols. If you don’t come on your own, I’ll come get you.”
Knowing he’d follow through, I kicked off my flip flops and shimmied out of my pants before climbing carefully down the rocks to him. The water was colder than I remembered, but it felt good on my heated skin. He dove in, resurfacing a few seconds later.
Just like that, my body was on fire again. No one, absolutely no one, should look as good as he did. Water drops slid down the center of his chest, right between his incredibly toned pecs and onto the six-pack most models would be jealous of. I wanted to dry it. With my tongue.
I preferred men with tattoos. Lots and lots of tattoos. It was my policy not to date men who had less ink than me. But Mike’s ink-free, extremely muscular chest was honest to God the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Without the ink, nothing about him was left to the imagination. He even had a little trail of hair that was just visible, and veins, which I’d never actually seen on any other man. And a V on his lower abdomen…good Christ. That was apparently a real thing, not just something a romance author made up. I swallowed hard, glancing back up before he caught me inspecting him like some horny pervert.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have any art at all. His left arm was covered from shoulder to wrist in black. But the tats were the last thing you saw when you looked at those gloriously large arms. No wonder the man had no trouble lifting me. He could probably bench-press a baby elephant. Thank God he wore a shirt most of the time, because it would be way too distracting if he didn’t.
“Are you gonna come in, or are you just gonna stare into space while I swim?” He walked toward me very slowly, as if trying not to spook me. Then he reached out, snatching me by the waist, and pulled me toward him. Throwing his arms around me, he tucked me tight against his chest, and I shivered as the cold wet from his body seeped into mine. Without warning, he jumped into the water, dragging me with him.
I came up, still in his arms, sputtering and spitting, but Mike only laughed, pushing my hair out of my eyes. He winked and jumped away, back into the water, before I could smack him. He swam to the other side of the brook and turned to look at me. Laughter died from his lips, replaced by the same expression he’d worn the night before when he treated my face. In that moment, I knew he wanted me as much as I wanted him. Then he blinked and it was gone.
He ignored me for a few minutes, glancing around at the rock walls that surrounded us. “This is beautiful.”
I nodded in agreement. “It is one of my favorite places. I used to sit on the rocks up there”—I pointed to the cliff behind him—“and write songs or daydream about what it would be like to sing for other people.”
“Have you always wanted to be a singer?”
I nodded. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. People told me I was crazy because a million other people could carry a tune just as well, if not better, and that I didn’t look like a singer. They all said I should have a backup plan.” I shrugged. “I never did. Instead, I worked my ass off to get here.” I scrunched up my nose, forcing the memories away. “What about you? Was the Navy always your plan?”
“Fuck no.” He chuckled. “I played ball in school. Baseball was my passion, but I was better at football. Not good enough to go pro, but decent enough to play college ball. My plan was to go to a top tier school on a scholarship, party my way through school, and then coach baseball for the rest of my life.”
“What happened? Didn’t get a scholarship?”
“September eleventh happened.” He glanced away. “I got some great offers for schools, but I was needed elsewhere.”
A shiver ran down my spine. I’d only been fourteen when the planes crashed into the twin towers, but I would never forget that day. Or the way the city had changed afterward. “Thank you for that.”
His eyes met mine, searching, as if to see if I was sincere.
“I mean it.” I shrugged, embarrassed. “I had a hard time sleeping for a long time. Men like you made me feel safe.”
“You’re welcome.” He swallowed and took a deep breath. “How far is Cooperstown?”
I tipped my head, pointing toward the mountains he couldn’t see, thankful for the change in topic. “A few hours that way. Jake?”
He nodded. “I was just thinking how much he’d love it here. These falls, the mountains, the baseball hall of fame.” He chuckled.
“Next summer you should bring him here for a vacation.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “There is so much to do, even if you have to drive a couple of hours, you could come back here and stay for the night.”
“What about you?” he asked, swimming toward me. “Will you be here, too?”
I hadn’t thought about that. “If you don’t mind me hanging around, absolutely.”
He stood up, giving me another glorious view of the water running down his body. I stifled a groan. “He’d like that.” Mike chuckled. “I think my son has a little crush on you, Miss Molly Ray.”
I laughed. “No he doesn’t. He’s what, thirteen? Teenage boys don’t even know who I am. The only reason he does is ‘cause you’re friends with Nate.”
“Oh, you’re wrong about that.” He stepped closer to me, close enough that my nipples almost brushed against him when I breathed. “He not only knows who you are, he would die if he knew I was swimming with you right now and you looked like that.”
“Gross.” My hands found my hips. “I’m wearing a shirt, you ass. Probably the best thing to wear swimming with teenage boys.”
He chuckled, reaching out and tugging on the bottom of my shirt. “A thin white shirt is never the best thing to wear swimming, Mols. Especially in an ice-cold mountain stream.”
I glanced down, suddenly very aware that he could see everything I thought I was hiding. Shit. I moved my arms, determined to cover up, but he grabbed them with one of his hands.
“I didn’t say I objected to the view.”
My face flared in embarrassment, causing him to run a finger along my cheek.
“How are you feeling?”
Knowing he’d meant the gouges in my face and not the emotions swirling around my body, I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“I thought the cool water might help. Especially with your back. Is it?”
I nodded, ready to tell him that it actually seemed to be helping a lot when he dropped my hands and cupped my cheeks. I instinctively stepped into him, knowing this was it, this was the moment he’d kiss me.
He didn’t move. Just stood there, leaning over me, every part of him touching every part of me, holding my face and looking at me the way I looked at rugby players. I couldn’t wait another second and took matters into my own hands.
I moved my hands to his hair, twirling them in the thick dark locks, forcing him closer to me as I stood on tiptoes and pressed my lips against his. That’s all it took for him to snap out of whatever daze he was in and take control.
His body may have been freezing, but his mouth was warm as he adjusted, leaning further down, capturing my lips with his. He teased me, nibbling at my bottom lip until I opened up, then he slid his tongue in, meeting mine, the two swirling around each other in a playful dance. He groaned, yanking my body closer, his fingertips digging almost painfully into my shoulders.
All too soon, he pulled back a little, caressing the end of my nose with his before leaning his forehead against mine. “Mols,” he groaned, expressing the exasperation I felt. “We can’t.”
“But I want to,” I whispered. “Don’t you?”
He gave me a lopsided grin. “More than you fucking know. But we can’t.”
My body shivered involuntarily at his denial. I couldn’t remember a time I needed something more than I needed this. More than I needed him. I jerked my head to the side, pressing my lips against his again, fingers sliding down his back and moving to his front, determined to change his mind.
His hands snapped from my shoulders to my wrists, gripping them tightly and forcing them away from him as he stepped backward. “Stop.” The low command left no room for arguments. I shivered again, making his face soften a bit. “You’re cold.” Before I could argue, he’d turned toward the shore, pulling me through the water behind him.
The climb up the rocks was tricky, especially with wet feet and a distracted mind, but Mike helped me to the spot where he’d dropped his clothes. Not giving me a chance to object, he reached for the bottom of my top and pulled the sopping cotton from my body, covering me almost immediately with his own before he yanked on his jeans.
His dark tee shirt fell almost to my knees, the sleeves dwarfed my arms, and while it was warm from the sun, the best part about it was that it smelled like him. “This is getting to be a habit.”
His eyes traveled over me as he pulled up his zipper, leaving the button undone. He shrugged, his expression blank as he slid on his sneakers and reached for my hand. “You look better in my shirts than I do.”
I stepped out of his reach, walking in front of him. A few steps down the road, I glanced over my shoulder. “I look better out of them.”
I turned back toward the road, hurrying ahead, pretending I didn’t hear the groan he tried to smother, or my name when he called it. I couldn’t hide the smile on my face, though. Without knowing it, he’d just made the next few months of this tour bearable and given me something to look forward to. I was a stubborn little shit, and I loved a challenge. Mike Carson would be begging me before it was over.
Chapter Twelve
~ Mike ~
I was so fucked.
She thought she was a comedian, this girl. In reality, she was tempting as fuck. And off limits. So fucking off limits she wasn’t even on my radar. But goddamn if I didn’t want her.
The kiss had been a lapse in judgement. That was it. Two people, exhausted from being on the road, shared a moment in which they both let their guard down. Happened all the time. Especially to people in our professions.
There’d been a time when the wives and girlfriends had dreaded the ‘Bama Boys going on tour. As head of security for Nate, I’d witnessed my fair share of infidelities. Men who you’d never think would cheat on the women they love would find themselves in a situation they normally never expected, and because they were exhausted or drunk or lonely as fuck, they made mistakes. Mistakes that would have never happened in their everyday life.
That’s what our kiss was. A result of two lonely people being forced to spend every second together and getting confused. The lines had blurred for a second and I’d forgotten she was my responsibility, my boss. It was my goddamn job to protect her from assholes like me. If Lee found out, she’d fire my ass.
Lia. I’d been so focused on Molly that I hadn’t thought about Lia in days. Yeah, I’d talked shop with her earlier, but hearing her voice hadn’t sent me on a bender like it would have just last week.
I’d let my thoughts wander while watching Mols swim, imagining all the dirty, nasty things I wanted to do to her. While her lips were on mine, all I could think about was how I wanted to kiss my way down her body, to rip off her sexy as sin black panties, kneel before her, and part her legs, just to find out what she tasted like. I longed to make her scream my name until it was the only thing she remembered how to say.
Never once had my mind drifted to the redhead that used to haunt that part of me. It had been years since I’d kissed a woman and actually seen her face. Yet, when I opened my eyes and leaned my head against Molly’s, it was violet blue eyes full of longing and trust that I saw. The woman before me, a breathtaking blonde who wanted me as much as I wanted her.
It was a mind fuck. I’d been so distracted by Mols that I hadn’t had the time to whine to myself about how pathetic my life had turned out to be. Suddenly, I understood how men I’d spent years judging, men I thought were pathetic liars and cheaters, did what they did. Why Jules did what she did.
Not that I’d cheat. Fuck no. I would cut off my own dick before I hurt someone I cared about like that. But I could see how you could become infatuated with someone else, get caught up with someone other than your wife in such a short time. I’d only been back on the tour for a few days, and had only been alone with Molly for one of them, but my body was consumed with the need to pull her into the woods, push her against a tree, and fuck her until we couldn’t stand another second.
The image flew through my mind, but I groaned as my dick started to harden. I craved her. I had to have her. I was so unbelievably fucked.
Then, the woman who had wormed her way into my every waking thought stopped abruptly. I halted next to her, the need to touch her strong enough to make me reach out and wrap an arm around her waist. I felt her tension immediately.
“Mols?” I didn’t wait for an answer, scanning the area to see what had made her so worried. There was an older model truck in the driveway. It was almost hidden by our SUV, but I could just make it out. I swore, glancing behind us. There was no one else as far as I could see, but I was pissed that I’d let my guard down enough to not notice it before. I didn’t even have my gun on me. “Was your mom expecting company?” I’d trusted her mom. I hoped to Christ that hadn’t been in error.
She shook her head once, a haunted expression covering her face. “I hope not.” She turned her face to me, sadness filling her eyes. “I hope that it’s just a mistake and that Mom didn’t know she was coming.”
“Do you know who it is?”
With a quick nod she moved her attention back to the house, her breath coming faster now, in panic. I’d seen her in some of the most stressful situations one can imagine, and not once had she acted like this. Molly was tough as nails. Whatever this was about, whoever was here, was cause for concern.
I stepped in front of her, blocking her view, and cupped her chin, making her focus on me. “Who is it Mols?”
She inhaled a shaky breath and then swallowed, worry lines forming on her face. “My sister.”
I was an only child, and a man, so I was the last person who could begin to comprehend sibling dynamic, let alone the relationship that sisters shared. But I’d been a part of the Kellys’ life long enough to know that sisters didn’t always get along. Hell, half the time, I was sure the Kelly girls hated each other.
Molly had mentioned her sisters over the years, but had never gone into detail. I had just assumed they were not a topic up for discussion. I never pushed or asked question because most people in the public eye keep parts of their private life very private. Sometimes it’s a significant other, sometimes it’s family, and sometimes it’s close friends. All people who didn’t choose the limelight, and all people the celebrity didn’t want to get harassed if they do something stupid.
Which, in Molly’s case, was all the fucking time. It only made sense that she’d keep her family sheltered. We’d never been close enough for her to tell me the intimate details of her loved ones back home.
Watching her now, I knew I’d been wrong. Even when Nate’s sisters were angry enough to murder each other, I’d never seen either of them shake in fear. There was something else going on here.
“Come on, babe, talk to me.” I forced my voice to be soft, comforting. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Blue eyes filled with tears. Shit. I could handle anything but tears. When one slipped out, racing down her cheek, I caught it with my thumb. Before I could lean in and kiss her, she closed her eyes. Inhaling a long, deep breath, she stood still for a second.
She opened them as she exhaled, a determined look taking over her features. “It’s fine.” She reached up and squeezed my wrist. “They’re probably watching us. And waiting out here won’t make her go away, it’ll only delay the inevitable. We need to go in.”
Work mode took over. I watched her for a moment, trying to read her. Above all else, it was my job to keep her from unsafe situations. This didn’t feel right, and it hadn’t since I’d seen the truck. I had no problem picking her up, locking her ass in the Suburban, and marching into the house to grab our shit. I would do whatever I needed to. But this was her family and I didn’t want to take her away from a situation she could handle.
“You good?”
She nodded, taking another deep breath and giving me the fakest smile I’d ever seen on her lips. “I will be.”
I nodded, turning back around, and grabbed her wet shirt from her hands. “I’ve got your back, kid.”
“You always do.”
To my surprise, there wasn’t anyone waiting for us on the porch. There were voices coming from the kitchen, but when they heard the door close, it became eerily silent. A chair scraped against the floor, and then a teenager came barreling into the hall.
“Auntie?”
For the first time since she’d seen the truck, Molly relaxed beside me, stopping and opening her arms. “Ruthie?” She sounded surprised. “Mom’s sent me pictures, but oh, wow!” She laughed as the girl threw her arms around her and they hugged each other tight. This was not the welcoming that I had envisioned, and I leaned against the wall, relaxing a bit. “You grew up!”
Ruthie leaned back, beaming down at Molly. “It’s been a long time. I missed you, Aunt Molly.”
“That’s not her name!” The harsh tone of the woman standing in the kitchen door was such a contrast to the happy reunion in front of me that I stood, putting myself between Molly and the intruder. “Ruth Anne, come back here.”
“Mom! I—”
Mols cut the teen off, laying a hand on her arm. “It’s okay. We’ll catch up later.” Stepping next to me, she nodded at the woman glaring in our direction. “Hello, Roxy.”
“Roxanne,” the woman corrected, ice in her tone. There was no smile from this woman, no welcome at all. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I came to see Mom.”
“Sure you did.” Roxanne laughed bitterly, stepping into the light of the hall window, allowing me to see her better. She didn’t resemble Molly at all. At least 5’11”, she was heavyset with plain features, her long dark brown hair streaked with gray. “You needed a place to hide, and our poor mother was the only person left you could take advantage of. You know you aren’t supposed to be here. It upsets her.”
“My relationship with our mother is none of your business.” Molly straightened, pulling herself up to her full height, all five and a half feet of it. “You should go. It’s getting late.”
“Actually, it is my business. Mom is old, in case you didn’t notice while you were off boozing your way around the country. I’m her power of attorney. You will not talk to my mother again without me being present.” Stepping closer, Roxanne only smiled. A sinister, evil smile. Pointing to the floor next to the hall table, she sneered. “But you’re right. It is late. Time for you to get your ass back on the road and disappear again. This time, don’t come back.”
I glanced sideways, noticing our bags for the first time. The fucking bitch was not kicking Molly out of her own house. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.
“Get out of my house, Roxy.” The voice didn’t even sound like Molly.
“You gonna have your guard dog remove me?” Roxanne only laughed again as she pointed at me before narrowing her eyes at Mols. “This isn’t your house. It never was. It was, and still is, my father’s house. He would have disowned your spoiled ass if he’d been alive. Thank God he was in the grave long before he could witness what a whore his little girl turned out to be.”
“Mom!” Ruth gasped.
“I’m not doing this with you, Rox. You need to leave.” Molly’s voice had started to waiver.
“You really think that because you fucked your way to Nashville, and then convinced your sugar daddy to bail my mother out, that you own this house?” She shook her head, dark hair flying wildly. “That’s amusing, really. Let’s see the paperwork saying it’s yours. A title. A deed.” She paused, tapping her finger against her lips. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t have anything. Nothing here is yours. Nothing. Any money you gave her was what you already owed her, you ungrateful little bitch.”
Molly surprisingly remained calm, even though I could see her pulse beating wildly. She could stay calm because I was angry enough for the both of us. “You really want to do this in front of your daughter? You want to be that kind of mom?”
Roxanne stepped closer, her face hard, eyes sparkling with hatred, making me want to shove her away from my girl.
I stepped closer. “Back away from her, now.”
She waved me off, attention solely on the woman next to me. “Are you calling me a bad mother? You?” She spit when she talked, infuriating me even more. My fingers curled, needing to pick her up and set her out on her ass. This wasn’t my battle, but I sure as shit was going to make it mine if she didn’t shut the fuck up. And soon.
“Roxy.” The warning came from Mrs. Davis, who had finally made an appearance.
She didn’t listen. “I didn’t sell my son to the highest bidder so I could run off and chase my pathetic dreams.” Her words made Molly recoil as if she’d been slapped. “Do you even know where your child is, Georgeanne? Do you even know what he looks like? Or what he sounds like when he calls for you?”
“Stop, Mom!” Ruth pulled on her mother, tugging her back.
“Roxanne.” Mrs. Davis had come into the hall, invading my space as she tried to reach her daughters.
Roxanne didn’t listen, screaming over them, “You think the entire world owes you something, you always have. No one owes you a thing. You aren’t special. You are a whore who has to fuck married men”—she pointed at me—“or pay men to be with you, because no one else wants you. You’re a shitty mother who gave away her son so she could party and drink and become a mediocre singer. You’re a horrible daughter who constantly breaks her mother’s heart. You’re ugly and evil, and no matter how many times you stick your finger down your throat, how many pounds you lose, or how many tattoos you cover yourself with, you’re still going to be that fat fucking ugly loser who will never be anything but a disappointment to her family. This isn’t your home. This is a place where everyone wishes you’d never been born.”
When I saw the first tear drop down Molly’s cheek, I moved without thinking. Grabbing her sister by the arms, I half-lifted, half-dragged her to the door. She struggled, smacking my face, trying to head-butt me, nails digging into my arms, kicking out at Molly on her way by. I ignored it all. When we got to the stairs, I put her down rougher than I should have and gave her a shove, making her stumble into the driveway.
Yanking a cell phone out of her pocket, she screamed, “I’m calling the police. That’s assault. After the little stunt you two pulled last night, I’m sure the police would love to talk to you!” I shut the door, turning back into the house.
“You can’t put your hands on my daughter.”
The sharp sting of the old woman’s hand across my cheek didn’t hurt as much as it annoyed me. I moved into Mrs. Davis’ space, every ounce of patience I’d once possessed gone. “I will do whatever the fuck I have to do to for Molly.” Her eyes softened, but I didn’t. “So shut the fuck up and get out of my way.”
