CHAPTER TEN MOLLY
CHAPTER TEN
MOLLY
“You close early on Sunday nights?”
I almost screeched as I jumped backward.
I grabbed onto the counter, glaring at him behind me. “Why are you still here? What do you actually want from me?”
I was scowling as he stilled, his own eyes narrowing, and I had an image of a cobra raising its head, eyeing who it was about to attack.
A chill went down my spine, and I shook my head, trying to clear the unsettling image from my mind.
Then I remembered what he’d originally asked.
“We do. Ten.” I looked at the clock. I’d made Pialto leave an hour ago, along with the rest of the staff.
I could handle the last three customers, but they’d just left as well.
I was ignoring the pit in my stomach because I didn’t think Ashton remembered what usually happened on Sunday nights here.
“Why?”
The bell above the door jangled again, and I looked over, half expecting one of our customers coming back. A lot of people forgot their jackets, but it wasn’t a customer. Two men were coming in, their badges flashing under their jackets as they moved. Dead eyes.
Cops. I would’ve known without the badges or their guns on their sides.
Also, I knew one. Detective Worthing had finally shown up.
Police always made me feel the same way, like my life was about to get fucked sideways. Again. It was a pattern that repeated.
“Molly Easter?” The first cop approached, showing me his badge.
This was the one I didn’t already know. He had sandy-brown hair, looking like he could fit in at a country club or in the middle of a shoot-out.
Pretty blue eyes. White. His nose had been broken at some point in his life.
There was a dip on the bridge. The other cop who came with him was the opposite in a lot of ways.
Dark features. Hair. Eyes. There was a dangerous air that surrounded him, a bit more than his partner.
He was also staring at Ashton. Hard.
“I’m Detective Monteyo. It’s nice to officially meet you.” The first one was introducing himself before he put his badge away. “Mind if we ask you a few question—”
“What are you doing here?” Worthing cut in, his voice rough. The question was directed to Ashton.
A whole new slew of shivers went through my body, and I had a distinct impression that nothing was what it seemed right now.
I heard Ashton’s cool response but could also hear some dark amusement from him. “What do you mean? We had a conversation hours ago that you were coming in. You said soon, yet it’s almost closing time. What took you so long?”
I sucked in my breath.
I felt a whole edge slam into place as Worthing’s eyes took on a rageful effect. “Excuse me?”
Monteyo had frozen in place, but he coughed, giving Worthing a look before speaking.
“We got word that MissEaster had returned to her place of employment, and since we were grabbing food in the area, we decided we could stop in.” He focused on me; his smile was forced.
“Get some preliminary work out of the way before the week starts tomorrow, you know?”
I had no idea what he was talking about.
“I own this business. It’s not just my place of employment.
” I sent Ashton a withering look because it was going to be my business again.
At this point, I would do anything and everything to get this away from his family and away from my father, and away from even the West Mafia family too.
I was so tired of this world.
Ashton was unreadable. His face was made of granite, but his eyes met mine before they slid over my head and landed back on the detectives. “You have questions for MissEaster?”
Neither of them moved, but Monteyo coughed again, clearing his throat, and took a step forward. He pulled out a pad of paper and questioned me about the robbery. I answered with honesty except vaguing up the bit where I’d used the Walden family name to scare the robber away.
Monteyo frowned. “So you think he changed his mind because of your father?”
I snorted. “Have you met Marcus Easter? He’s Satan’s spawn. If you haven’t met him, I’d stay away. He’s a curse that you’ll never get rid of, no matter how much you try to shake him. He’s like lint that’s immune to a lint roller.” I shuddered at the magnitude of truth there.
I’d never be done with my father’s shittiness in life.
“Uh. Yeah.” Detective Monteyo scribbled one last thing before putting his pad away. “Want to explain why a businessman with prominent and known Mafia ties is standing behind you right now?”
I opened my mouth, but yeah. I had nothing.
A hand touched my side. Ashton was moving.
Both the detectives saw the motion, their eyes falling to his hand, but at that moment, the bell above the door jangled again, and my dad’s voice rang out, “Daughter! Daughter! You here or—” He skidded to a halt, his oversize cargo jacket flopping in front of him.
Marcus Easter always looked half-homeless, mostly because he ended up sleeping a lot of nights on the streets, but tonight he looked worse than normal.
Ratty and greasy hair a mess, half-smashed to the left side of his head.
He had jeans and a sweatshirt underneath his jacket, but the ends were in holes.
The jeans wore him, not the other way around.
The ends trailed on the floor, and it looked like he was wearing moccasins on his feet.
“Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.” He gaped at everyone before his eyes bulged and he turned, already lunging back where he’d just come from.
I felt movement at my side, and then Elijah moved in from behind him, his hands clamping down on the sides of my dad’s arms. His hands were huge and half on my dad’s shoulders.
“Hey! What are you doing?! Let me go. Let me go, I say.” My dad was wiry, and he was trying to get untangled from Elijah’s hold, but Elijah was six four and solidly built where I didn’t think he had any fat on him, that kind of built. My dad didn’t stand a chance.
Then my dad got a good look at Elijah, and his voice trailed off.
“Wait a minute ...” He tensed again. His head popped up, like a bird’s, and he whipped around, looking, looking—seeing me, clocking me, and then switching behind me, and my father looked like his eyeballs wanted to really pop out of his skull.
I saw the whites on the back end of his eyeballs before he started shaking his head, recoiling backward, but Elijah was there, and he merely grunted before picking up my father and bringing him closer to the group.
“Hello, Marcus.” That came from Worthing.
My dad’s gaze was riveted on Ashton before he turned to who had spoken, and his eyes closed, his head fell back, and he made a whole dramatic groan. “Are you jerking me around?”
“Shorty. How’s it going?”
Monteyo moved in on the other side. “Pretty certain we’ve got three warrants out for your arrest.” He reached behind his back and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
“Oh, come on, guys! Not like this.” He waved a hand to me. “In front of my daughter. And on Sunday? I was hoping to come in for a warm meal. With my daughter.”
A warm meal? With me?
I.
Was.
Seeing.
Red.
RED!
Sunday night?
With me?
A warm fucking meal?
After what he did to me ?!
I growled and started for him, or I would’ve if Ashton hadn’t held me in place. “Relax,” he said under his breath. He had an arm around my waist, clamping me to him. His chest was firmly behind me.
I couldn’t.
I just couldn’t. What my father did? He wasn’t a dad to me. When had he ever been a father to me?
I wanted to murder him. I wanted to take his head, twist it, and yank it off his body.
I wanted to bathe in his blood.
I was unhinged. Fully aware of it, but this was him. This was what my dad did to me. He had the ability for me to flip the switch, and my switch was all the way flipped.
“Marcus Easter, you’re under arrest.” Monteyo motioned for him to turn around, and as he did, Monteyo put the handcuffs on him.
Worthing was watching Ashton, who was as cool as a fucking cucumber.
I wanted to commit murder, in front of these cops, but no. The Mafia head guy was all nonreactive and Mr.Cool Joe. Then again, that’s probably why he did what he did.
As Monteyo was reading my father his rights, my dad turned his head my way. “Sweetie. Honey. I heard what happened to you, and I was worried—”
I burst forward, but Ashton had ahold of me still. I yelled, “Two days ago, Dad! Dad. Dad, my ass. You—” A hand clamped over my mouth.
I wasn’t having it; I wasn’t dumb, though. He was smothering my words for a reason, the law enforcement for one, but I was beyond seeing reason. I hated Marcus Easter. Hated him. Loathed him. I was planning his funeral on the joyous occasion of when he was killed. By me.
By me and my shovel.
Yes. Me. My shovel. My dad.
Monteyo finished reading my dad his rights and glanced over, his eyebrows pulling low. “You got her under control?”
My dad’s eyes enlarged. “Under control?”
I was still shouting at him, Ashton’s hand covering my mouth, but now I started reaching for him. Ashton was like a cement wall. I couldn’t move an inch, so I tried kicking for him, though that was just a comedic experience by now because Monteyo started taking my dad to the door.
Worthing stayed back, moving backward until his partner and my father were through the door. He stopped.
Ashton’s hand fell from my mouth, and I almost fell forward but caught myself.
I quieted because a whole new awareness had fallen over the room, with just those two staring at each other.
“Really?” Worthing asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
Ashton’s words came out like ice. “Really.”
Worthing moved closer to the door. “We don’t have to be enemies.”
“Your last name says otherwise.”
His phone made a buzzing sound. He grabbed it but gave one last lingering look at Ashton before leaving.
I swung around to Ashton. “What was that about?”
No reaction. Nothing. He just turned to me. “He thinks we’re fucking, and now your father does too. That’s unfortunate, for him.”
Fucking?! What?
Why—
“Heading out, boss?” Elijah asked.
Ashton gave him a nod, and Elijah left as well.
My blood was still pumping, but I was able to think a bit clearer.
I followed Ashton as he went to my office.
“You told him what? Why? You told me that you wanted to use me to do something for you. I thought that was about the cops. Is that what that was? But sex? You and me? What was all of that about?”
My heart was speeding.
Ashton went over and began shutting down my computer, which I was now clueing in had a whole new look on the screen before it went black. I pointed at it. “What’d you do to my computer?”
Ashton ignored me, coming back and folding his coat over his arm. He gestured for me to go ahead of him, and he locked my office behind us.
“You’re taking over everything.”
He barely blinked, his hands finding my hips and gently urging me ahead of him. “Where’s your coat? Your things?”
I was still frowning at him, looking beyond him to my office, so he stepped away and went behind the counter. I’d already closed out the register, but he dipped down and straightened, my coat and purse in his hand. “Your keys?”
I motioned to the purse. “In there.”
He held it out to me, coming back to me. “I need you to lock up behind us.”
“What?” I reached in my purse and pulled out the keys.
I went to the back door, tested the doorknob.
Everything was already locked up. I had either Pialto or Elijah to thank for that.
The last door was the main door, not the one I usually exited out of, but today seemed like the whole theme was out of the normal routine.
We stepped out, and I hit the locks as we did.
A black Escalade pulled up in front of us. Ashton opened the back door. “Come on.”
“You’re giving me a ride home? Because that’d be nice. I mean, I take the train.”
He waited until I got in, got in behind me, and shut the door. “No. We’re going for dinner.”
“I don’t want to have dinner with you.” Maybe talking to him about my dad would be a good idea. I’d like to know if I killed him, whether there’d be repercussions against me. “I mean, sure. I’d love dinner.”
“It’s time we talked about the day you were at my grandfather’s house.”
I blinked at him. Then blinked again. “Huh?”
His mouth tightened as he looked out the window. “Exactly.”
We pulled away, and I looked back, feeling something sinking in me.
Tonight would’ve been the night Kelly and Justin came to bowl with their friends.