Page 54 of The Chief
She shook her head. “It wasn’t about what he did to me. It was what he was going to do to her.”
“Her?” I asked, then realized. “Orla.”
Molly dipped her chin in acknowledgment.
“What did he do?”
She inhaled deeply, then let it out. “He used to come into my bedroom at night when my mother was out working to earn him money.”
My anger reared its head so quickly that my head spun. “He touched you?”
Molly’s eyes flicked to me before resettling on her hands. “Not at first. He said he just wanted to watch me sleep. Then he would take out his dick and stroke himself while he watched me. Eventually, he asked me to take off my clothes, told me it was our secret. Something special just for us to do together. I didn’t want to take off my clothes, but he threatened to tell my mother I was the one who wanted to see him touch himself.”
“I want to exhume his corpse and fucking murder him all over again,” I muttered.
“The watching became touching, and the touching became him…” She hiccuped as the tears finally fell down her cheeks. “The touching became him getting into bed with me anytime my mother was away at night.”
Rage roared through me as my blood hummed with uncaged violence. I wanted to trash the fucking room. Burn down the house. Something—anything—to erase the sadness and shame present in Molly’s eyes.
“That’s why you’re so tense in bed,” I said, remembering I’d told her she was like a corpse. Now I knew why, I felt like a piece of shit for making the joke.
“I don’t like to share a bed with people I don’t trust, and I struggle to trust most people,” she replied, wiping the tears from her face. She rose from the bed, and I worried I was losing her to her memories and shame.
“Where are you going?”
“To get another blanket and pillow,” she said. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
Like fuck she was. “No.”
“What?”
“Like fuck you’ll be sleeping on the floor,” I told her. “You’ll be staying right here with me.”
“Keir,” she whispered. “I can’t. You know why I can’t.”
“Do you trust me?” It was a demand I had no right to make, but I made it all the same.
“What?”
“Do youtrustme?” I repeated, waiting for her reply like everything hinged on it. Fuck, everythingdidhinge on it.
She dropped her gaze for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly.
“Good. You can be terrified of sleeping beside me, but know I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you like that again.”
She eyed me suspiciously, like she wanted to believe every word I said but was afraid to at the same time. “Grady—” she started, shaking her head.
“Fuckthat guy. Now stay in the bed with me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she left the bedroom, and returned a few moments later with a blanket and pillow bundled under her arm.
Chapter 17
Keir
Iwatched Molly’s chest rise and fall under the thin blanket. I wasn’t sure at what point I started to give a fuck about her welfare and mental wellbeing. Apparently, hearing her story broke what was left of my black, twisted heart. I understood her better now; why she had to deliver the bullet. She was a survivor, like me. Doing whatever she had to in order to keep her family safe.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to claim her.
