Page 55 of Where's Molly

“Nope. Bigger isn’t always better,” I quip, noting the open door to my left where I can see a black stone vanity. I head toward it without waiting for his response, and his burning stare doesn’t abate as it follows me. “I assume the bathroom is already stocked with what I need?”

“Sure is,” he drawls deeply.

My stomach flutters as I hurry into the bathroom, too much of a chicken to spare him a glance. By the time I get the door shut and lean heavily against it, my heart is pounding.

He'll be waiting for me to finish, and what comes after will be something I've never done before.

I'm going to fuck him.

And for the first time, it'll be my choice.

I'm so fucking nervous, but it doesn't feel… bad. In fact, it’s exhilarating. It's a foreign emotion, but I can understand why people get addicted to it.

Because at this moment, I've never felt more alive.

Cage

Present

2022

When I was akid, my grandma once convinced me that my mother came out of the womb talking.

I'mstillconvinced of it.

“So, I told her, ‘Ma'am, if you're going to keep talkin' all that shit, at least carry some toilet paper with you to wipe your damn mouth.’”

Molly cups a hand over her smiling lips, green eyes glittering with mirth as she shakes her head at my mom.

She used to embarrass the absolute shit out of me and Olivia. But once we lost my sister, I found a new appreciation for her eccentric personality. She's all I have in this world, and despite her utter heartbreak over her daughter's death, she always showed up for me. Never letme down, despite how hard the world tried to kick her to the ground.

“I don't like bullies. What do you kids call 'em these days? Karens? Well, she was one of them. Except I just called her what she really is, which is a defective sperm that grew too much of a mouth instead of a brain.”

“You're such a poet, Ma,” I comment dryly.

The tiger lilies I had just bought Mom are arranged in the crystal vase she’s had for decades at the center of the dinner table, our empty plates and wineglasses in front of us.

I pull out my pack of nicotine gum and shove one in my mouth. I'm tempted to eat the whole sleeve of them now that we've finished dinner. Mom already served the peach cobbler, which I skipped. I'm not much of a sweets person.

Unless, of course, it's Molly's pussy.

“Am I? Next time, I'll charge ya just to listen to me speak then,” she retorts. “All this time, and I coulda been getting rich just from yelling at you.”

I chuckle, glancing at Molly and finding her biting back a smile. One of these days, I'll teach her how to set them free.

“Have some more to drink,” Mom encourages, pouring more red wine into Molly's glass. “With as stiff as you are, I fear my son will be marrying a wooden puppet. He'll be picking splinters out of his—”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I groan. “Quit talking.”

“I'll make sure to buy him a magnifying glass then,” Molly says, one corner of her lips curled upward.

“For the splinters or his penis?”

“Ma.”

A laugh bursts from Molly's throat, and instantly, I forgive my mother for being so crass.I'm used to her making jokes at my expense, but I'm confident Molly has never met anyone like my mother, and her personality definitely isn't a one-size-fits-all. There's been a few girlfriends in the past that she's scared off, which instantly told me they weren't worth it anyway.

“I'm not gonna scare ya off, am I?” Mom asks her, as if reading my mind.

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