Chapter Fifteen
MOLLIE
He steps closer to me, his body tense, his face scrunched. The nerve of him. To think he can intimidate me into staying put after showing up here, of all fucking places, then drag me away like he owns me.
I knew he was behind me before he showed himself. I could feel him. Could smell him. Could sense his presence. It was as though my body could feel him nearby before my brain could register what was happening. A small part of me is glad he’s here, but a larger part of me is pretty sure that what he and Dean are about to do, isn’t something I’m meant to know about.
Hedragged me in here. I didn’t want to come. I wasn’t necessarily enjoying dancing with Henry, but he couldn’t find Sarah. And now I know why.
The nerve of her. He deserves so much better.
Tim laying his hands on me was a something I didn’t see coming. Travis now standing in front of me, bracing for impact, is something I could see a fucking mile off. My temper begins to flare, just like his nostrils.
“I—”
My palm slaps the side of his face before he can give me some appeasing bullshit.
He closes his eyes and licks his lips, his cheek instantly flushing pink. I can see him mentally trying to work out what to do first. Kiss me. Kill me. Or get to business. “I’m going to go in there. You’re going to stay here.”
I raise my hand to hit him again for not giving me enough credit.
He blocks it, his hand easily gripping mine. “Enough!” he barks. “I don’thave the time for this, Mollie. You can hate me later, but right now, I have shit to do. I know you’re going to want to defy me,” I balk with a roll of my eyes, “but I need you to fucking listen to me.”
“Like a good girl?”
“No, baby, like the fucking woman you want to be.”
My face drops, and Travis sees. His eyes relax if only a fraction, and I let my shoulders fall. “Fine.”
Travis grinds his jaw before turning on his heels to leave. He takes a few steps away from me, pauses, then reaches for the meat cleaver in with the utensils.
I suck in a breath.
“Don’t move,” he says over his shoulder, not looking at me. “Anyone comes, call me.”
He’s like a different man. The biker. The outlaw. Clearly, the criminal.
And I wait, like what? Their bloody lookout? Racking my brain as to why I don’t go charging behind him, I make sure the door is locked, then rest my head against it, flinging it back. Doesn’t matter what they’re doing in there. I’m here, so now I’m involved. Whether I want to be or not.
A few minutes pass.Thud.I hear a fist hitting flesh, and my ears prick up. Listening. There’s a moan, followed by another thud, then the sounds of whimpering. Tim must be crying. Two mean looking guys jumping out on you when you’re caught red handed cheating on your wife will probably do that to you.
Unless they’re doing so much worse than what I think I can hear?
What the hell am I doing here? And more importantly, what the hell aretheydoing in there?
The next thud that comes, echoes down the hall. Masked by a mouth being covered, the cries pouring out from Tim are much worse this time. He’s in agony. Hurt. There’s the sound of a struggle, followed by Dean’s voice. I can’t hear what he’s saying over the beat of the music pulsing from outside. The DJ had everyone up and involved with a drone display. He is good.
A shadow moves on the other side of the door, and I try my hardest not to move and draw attention to myself. I hold my breath, slamming my eyes shut.Shit. Shit. Shit.Whoever is outside walks past the door, and I quickly push away from it, sucking in some oxygen as I swiftly flick off the light.
It’s from my spot that I hear the deep growl of Travis’ voice telling Tim that it’s his last chance.To do what?
“No more fucking about, Tim. Sign it and it’s done.”
Tim groans.
I take a step closer, keeping my heels off the ground, standing on my tiptoes as I take another small step. Curious.
There’s no way of seeing what’s happening, but as I edge my way toward the door, my heart drums a little faster. My palms grow a little sweatier. Fear and anger spark anew. I press my ear to the door for the second time this evening, listening as closely as I can.