Page 48 of Sinful Seduction
“He was dealing drugs,” Tori murmurs.
Molly gasps, her eyes slinging open and burning with betrayal. “Tor?—”
“He was. He was selling drugs to some kids in our grade.”
“Oh God.” Mrs. Freemon drops her head into her palm. “Oh, Molly.”
“We didn’tknowuntil recently,” Tori continues. “As soon as we did, Molly told him to stop.”
“Did you fight about it?” Aubree steps around Fletch, clasping her hands together instead oftouching. “You didn’t want him to do that, but money is money, right? And guys like him, guys who don’t have the same family support and safety nets others do, money means freedom. It means power.”
“I told him to stop.” Molly tilts her head back, digging it into the pillow and staring at the ceiling. She blinks through her tears, her jaw and teeth trembling with emotion. “I was mad when I found out, because I wondered…” She moans. “I wondered for a little while, and he swore he wasn’t. I believed him. When I found out, I demanded he stop.”
“And did he?” Aubree presses. “For you… Did he stop?”
Big, fat tears well up and roll from the corners of her eyes, dribbling over her temples and disappearing in her hair. “He said he did. Again.”
Minka steps forward, the last of our four. The final piece to our puzzle. “Did you believe him?”
She shakes her head, clamping her teeth tight. “No.”
“Did he stiff his supplier?” I ask. “Owe him money? Piss off a buyer, maybe?”
Molly’s chest and shoulders vibrate with a silent sob. “I don’t know. Probably.”
“Why, specifically, did you sneak out two nights ago to see him?”
“Because he told me to.” Her monitors beep faster. Frantic. Painful, surely, for a girl whose heart stopped not so long ago. “Because he asked me to, and because I loved him.”
The door swings open behind us, the wind of its momentum hitting the back of my neck. Then Grant Freemon strides in and takes only a moment to study his wife, with her face in her hand. His daughter, with tears on her cheeks. And then me, Fletch, Aubree, and Minka. Angry, he stalks around us and turns back, shielding his family. “The hell is going on in here? What happened?”
“We have questions,” Fletch answers. Our diplomat. Our negotiator. “It’s completely understandable that Molly is emotional while she answers.”
“Excuse me.” Anxious, Tori bounces up from her chair and hugs her bag to her chest. Her long, red curls dangle past her shoulders, sky-blue eyes glittering with the tears she tries so hard to control. She shakes her head and flattens her lips, and scooting around her chair and past Minka, she strides to the door. “I’ll come back another time, Mols. Feel better, okay?”
“Tori—”
“I have to go home for now. My mom and dad are expecting me.” She swipes her face, faking a smile. “I’ll see you later.”
Grant slaps the nurse’s call button, taking Molly’s hand as anger wafts from his solid six feet in waves. “You’re in pain, baby. You need more medicine and rest.”
“We still have questions,” Fletch insists. “Please, Grant. If you could just?—”
“She’s in pain! She needs rest. Leave a card and we’ll call you when she’s feeling better.”
“She’s ouronlywitness.” Aubree stumbles forward and takes his hand, cupping it between her palms. “Please, Mr. Freemon. Your daughter is safe. She’s right here in front of you, alive and breathing and talking. But the same can’t be said for Ben. If his killer isn’t done yet, someone else will die while we waste time. Molly needs to speak up.”
“Molly needs to rest!”
“Whoever killed Ben is still out there,” Minka counters. “Whoever did thatknowsshe was there. If the detectives don’t find them, they might come looking for her. It hurts, and it’s scary. She’s grieving, we know. But for her own safety, she needs to speak up.”
“Grant…” Mrs. Freemon wipes her face with shaking hands. Her breath hitching and clawing deep in her chest. “We can’t protect her from whoever did this.”
“Yes, we can. We will.”
“You have a police guard on the door.” Gently, Fletch takes Aubree’s arm and tugs her back. “For now, you’re safe. But eventually, Molly will leave this place, and when that day comes, the risk your family faces grows exponentially. Help us, so we can get this person off the streets.”
“You think I don’t know how to handle those thugs?” Grant glares over his shoulder, his eyes burning with the desperation only a father knows. “You think I’m scared of them?”
