Page 101 of He Should Be Mine
I think he knew that. I don’t think he doubted me. He just needed to hear it.
I put the bag over his head and pretend that I don’t hear his pained gasp. He hates the dark, and this wouldn’t be fun for anyone. So I need to get this over and done with.
I step behind him and grab his upper arm. Then I march him out.
If anyone sees me dragging a bound and hooded man around, they are not going to ask. They are going to mind their own business.
We hurry down the stairs. Molly’s steps are graceful even though he is blind. We get to the car. So far, so good, we haven’t crossed anyone’s path.
I open the trunk and shove Molly inside. Thankfully, there is room around the suitcases that are still here. Thank heavens for large American cars.
Molly lets out a soft little whimper, but he doesn’t protest. He curls up into a fetal position. I shut the trunk door. It’s a shame about his suitcases that are upstairs, but at least he still has half his things.
An image flashes in my mind’s eye. Molly hugging his teddy bear. I’m pretty sure it’s the same one he was hugging when I accidentally spied on him through his window.
Fuck.
I turn and run. I dash through the house, up the stairs, and burst into the bedroom. I snatch the stuffed toy up, shove it under my suit jacket, and run back to the car.
I jump into the driver’s seat and tear away. The fucking gravel is going to chip my car, but I can touch the paintwork up later. I need to get a couple of miles away, then I can pull over and let Molly out of the boot and reunite him with his teddy bear.
If everything goes to plan, one day soon, I will be the only comfort that he needs.
Chapter twenty-eight
Dario
Every mile I drive feels like a thousand. I’m acutely aware that Molly is locked in the trunk in the dark. He is scared and alone and I cannot bear it.
Eventually, enough miles pass, and it is safe to pull over. We are on a quiet country lane. No traffic. No houses. No people. Just winding tarmac, tall hedges, a field of cows on one side and a shadowy wood on the other.
This spot isn’t meant for parking. It is a small curving dip in the road, designed for cars to tuck into when a tractor needs to pass.
But it is quiet, and we will not be here for long enough to get in anyone’s way.
I jump out of the car, and my knee complains begrudgingly. I yank open the trunk, grab Molly’s upper arm and haul him out into the fresh air and the light. The moment he is steady on his feet, I pull the sack off his head.
He blinks in the sudden daylight. His blond hair is all messy and sweat streaked. His face is flushed pink, and his eyes are huge.
I pull my knife from its sheath on my calf, reach around him, and slice through the rope binding his handstogether. The rough rope falls to the ground. Molly brings his arms around to his front and rubs his wrists.
His eyes are glassy and dazed. My heart is thundering in my chest.
“It’s over,” I say.
He nods and swallows.
“You were so brave,” I tell him.
His eyes scrunch up. My stomach rolls all the way over. Molly is upset. He needs care and comfort. Things I am hopeless at. I was not raised to show kindness. I’m not even sure where to begin.
I’ve longed to comfort him many times before. I have ached for it. But I was never in a position to do it. So my desire was able to remain an insubstantial thing. A hazy dream.
Now that I am faced with the stark reality, I’m at a loss. The details of how to achieve comfort are not coming to me.
Suddenly, inspiration strikes. His teddy bear. I still have it tucked inside my suit jacket. I reach for it and shove it towards Molly. His eyes startle open at the sudden movement.
He stares in astonishment at the bear. He takes it from me and holds it close to his chest.
