Page 4 of Where's Molly

“Lawyers cost money, Mario. Money that Idon’thave. All of it goes to them, and I…” My words fail me, helplessness taking root. Exhaling harshly, I finish with the only words that matter, “I’m trapped.”

Tears burn the backs of my eyes as Mario stares at me with fury. Furyforme, I know. But his anger won’t change my situation.

Idon’t even know how to.

“You don’t have any other family?” he questions, the hope hanging on to his words brittle.

Frowning, I shake my head. As far as I know, both of my parents are only children, and their parents are either dead or estranged.

I have no one but Layla.

“I can ask my wife and see about you staying with us—”

I’m shaking my head before he can finish. “My parents won’t let me take Layla, and I can’t leave her alone.”

“Molly,pleaselet me help you,” Mario begs. “We can figure something out.”

“I need time,” I snap, and he deflates. Guilt rises, and it only cements my helplessness. “Just… I’ll figure it out eventually, okay? She’s so young right now, so I just need to make sure I go about it the right way.”

He nods, relenting, though his stiff movements betray his true feelings. But just like me, he’s helpless.

Even if I take my parents down, they’ll be sure to bring me down with them.

“Then at least let me pay for Layla’s stuff, yeah? I’ll help you get anything she needs in the meantime. But don’t think I’m not going to find you a way out of this, little girl,” he tells me sternly. “I won’t ever stand idly by while you suffer.”

Tears well in my eyes, and I’m too overwhelmed with gratitude to thank him properly.

Eventually, I choke out, “Thank you. Even if I have no other family, at least I have you.”

His shoulders slump, though the conviction in his tone is strong. “You do, sweetheart. For anything.”

I smile softly, even if it’s hard to feel. But I am eternally grateful for him, especially since he’s the only person who’s ever been kind to me.

The bell chimes, and I glance at the newcomers walking in. Quickly, I do a double take, a frown marring my face.

It’s my dad, along with a man I don’t recognize. I’d have thought they were two strangers who walked in at the same time if it wasn’t for them being in the midst of a hushed conversation, their words halting when they finally catch sight of me.

My heart drops.

“What are you doing here? I’m getting your stuff…” I ask, trailing off with nervousness when I realize the other man is staring at me with an expression I can’t quite describe. It’s a look I don’twantto decipher, with how it immediately has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

He's short and stocky, with trimmed hair and a square, pronounced jawline. His pale skin is covered in shitty tattoos, and there’s a cold gleam in his brown eyes.

Dad strides toward me, gesturing for me to move aside. “I’ll take that off your hands. You’re too young to be buying alcohol anyhow. Why don’t you go with my friend here and wait for me till I’m done?” he orders gruffly.

My mouth drops, bewildered and increasingly suspicious.

My dad hasnevercome to take anything ‘off my hands’. Which means there’s a reason he’s here, and that terrifying man has something to do with it.

Like hell I’m going anywhere with him.

“It’s fine, I got it—”

“Go,” he barks. “Now.”

My spine snaps straight. It isn’t the harshness in his voice that has me on edge, but rather, the urgency.

Dumbfounded, I look to Mario, and find him a lip curl away from all-out snarling at my dad. He’s glaring at the two men with distrust and wrath that burn hotter than the underworld beneathour feet. But what can he do? If he calls the police and accuses me of trying to buy beer just to get me away from them, I would still end up going home with Dad later, and Mario could get his license revoked if they find out he’s sold to me before. And if he claims Dad’s a threat to me, it’ll only separate me from Layla.

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