Page 10 of He Should Be Mine
Molly snorted. Actually snorted. Then he laughed. It was far more a joyous sound than a mocking one, but it still sliced along every single one of my nerve endings.
“Sugar, that closet you are in has a glass door.”
I had paused for a moment. Momentarily stunned at the audacity. Then my brain cells had fired up again.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” I growled.
“Why?” Molly asked brightly. Completely and utterly undeterred.
I had never been so disrespected in my life. It felt outrageous. Incomprehensible. It was like being dumped in the middle of a strange new world without a map or even a compass.
“Because I thought you didn’t want me to kill you?” I managed to say.
Molly sighed dramatically. “I wanted you to rail me first, but since that’s off the table.” He stopped and shrugged. “Meh, whatever.”
Whatever.
That was his response to being potentially murdered.
It was infuriating. He was the single most grating person I had ever met. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what I was. He had clearly clocked that I was dangerous. He was smart enough for that. He knew the threat of death wasn’t idle.
He knew I was a dangerous man. Maybe it was the car, maybe it was the expensive suit and shoes. The outrageously expensive haircut. My exclusive cologne.
Or perhaps when you have been around bad people enough, it is easy to spot them.
Whatever the reason, Molly clearly knew I wasn’t an ordinary man.
He knew. But he didn’t care.
It was outrageous.
People respected me. They feared me. It was the way of the world. The way things were meant to be.
They didn’t see me, and all the death and violence carved into my soul, and shrug it off with a,whatever.
I remember swerving into the underground parking lot a little too fast, and internally swearing that I had allowed a whore to ruffle me enough that I nearly damaged my car.
I pulled into my spot. Jumped out and opened the door for Molly. He slid out with a grace that seemed unnatural. All slinky and feline. A predator on the hunt.
He smiled at me, and I gestured for him to walk in front of me. It didn’t bother him. He strode in front of me with ease. I clearly wasn’t the first man he had known who didn’t want anyone at their back.
“Going to tell me who your boss is?” he asked me in the elevator as he used the mirror to fuss with his hair.
“No.”
“Is he going to murder me?” Molly asked almost cheerfully.
“No.”
Because I knew that job would be mine. Riccardo rarely gets his hands dirty.
“Am I getting paid?”
“Yes.”
I didn’t know, but it was hardly as if little white lies were the greatest of my sins. There was no harm in putting his mind at rest. Or at least attempting to. He clearly knew something was off. I doubted he repeatedly asked all his customers if they were going to kill him.
It was awkward unlocking the door without turning my back on Molly, but I managed it. He hung back a little and gave me space.
