Page 22 of Where's Molly

The footage showed her walking into the gas station, and five minutes later, she was running from something that the security cameras couldn’t see. Throwing things on the floor, clearly in distress, while absolutely destroying the place. And then seeming to calm, as if someone had forced her to.

What was more disturbing was that the cameras didn’t see her leave the gas station. Same with the ones outside the back exit—that door never opened, and she was never seen walking out.

At 9:02 PM, she waved goodbye to the man behind the counter, walked out of shot toward the back door, and that was the last the world saw of Molly.

It was riveting, and I was fascinated.

But this obsession that I feel now is still not the same. No—it'sexactlywhat I felt when I met her.Hadher.

The girl with haunted eyes and a perpetual frown, who carried a sadness so deep that it permanently altered the shape of her lips.

I spent the night tracing my tongue along her Cupid's bow until I remolded her mouth to fit against mine. Because as long as I was inside her, her sadness would be powerless to my obsession. And there would be no part of her that wasn't made precisely for me.

I pull up to her farm, seeing the glow emanating from the same lone window in her house. It's been a week since I last saw her, and I’ve been talking myself down from showing up at her house uninvited again.

I wonder if that light is shining from her bedroom. Now, I can't look away without first imagining the silhouette of her naked body shadowed behind the glass. The curve of her pert breasts,just big enough to fill my hands, and those dusty pink nipples I could barely pull my mouth away from that night. The swell of her plump ass, before curving into those creamy thighs.

Fuck.

My cock is straining painfully against my zipper, and I'm tempted to unzip and stroke myself to the fantasy. It's not nearly as graphic as it could be, but part of me doesn't want to guess what her matured body looks like now. Mainly because I've already convinced myself I'll find out soon enough, and I want to take her in without any preconceived notions.

It may be the only good thing about not seeing her for almost a decade. I'll get to experience her for the first time all over again.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my pack of nicotine gum and pop one in my mouth, needing the buzz to relax my nerves. Then, I get out of the car just as she emerges from the depths of the barn.

She gazes at me cautiously, her stare sliding down my form, then back up again.

“How many?”

“Just one tonight.”

Without a word, she twists on her heel and disappears inside the barn.

My heart is pounding, and I'm not even sure why anymore. Anticipation has gathered between the crevices of my bones, as if I'm gearing up to commit the worst of my crimes.

Maybe I am. Yet, I can't find it in me to give a fuck.

Just like last time, I drag the corpse out of my trunk and carry the dead woman into Molly's barn. She's dressing in her protective suit while I drop the body on the metal table.

The silenceis heavy and filled with electrical currents. If I licked my thumb and held it up, I'd wield lightning in a matter of seconds. The ways I'd use that to my advantage…

The loud buzz of the hair clippers rips my thoughts straight out of the gutter and into the hands of the woman cutting off another person's hair, preparing to dismember her. She already undressed the woman, and I hadn’t even realized it.

I watch her, riveted, and remembering the twenty-five-year-old girl who walked into my TV store, asking for help with her shoulders curled inward and her eyes watching over her shoulder with every step. To this moment, a woman who is so calm and standing like she’s sure of herself. It's such a contrast to the version of her I once knew that I'm nearly frothing at the mouth to get to know who she is now.

She finishes shaving the woman's head, then extracts her teeth quickly and meticulously—so smoothly that it only shows her experience.

And when she begins to saw through the corpse's head, I can't help but feel my fascination with her deepening.

Unsurprisingly, I find her skillset in dismembering a person attractive.

“What did she do?” she asks after finishing removing the head.

“She sold her kid to her boyfriend. He would pay for his drug habit with her daughter's body.”

She pauses, the vibrating blade an inch away from the woman's leg. She clutches the tool until her rubber gloves squeak from the force of her grip, and when she continues to stay frozen, my brows plunge, concern trickling in.

“Molly.”

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