CHAPTER FOURTEEN MOLLY
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MOLLY
I wasn’t drunk, but I wasn’t totally sober when I went to bail out my dad the next morning. I knew what Ashton said, use Kelly and Justin, only think about Justin and Kelly, but it was hard. So because I’d had a few shots, I had Pialto drive me.
Then my dad came out, and Ashton had done his job.
Half his face was covered in bruises and swollen so I could barely recognize my father.
I loved it. Thank you, Ashton. And bonus points because Shorty Easter was limping as he approached me.
“Heya, little Molly bean.” He lifted his arms to hug me, but I turned my back and started for the parking lot.
I motioned for him to follow. “We’re out here.”
“We?”
I ignored him, walking to the car.
My dad followed, and he slowed, taking in the car. “Whose car is this?”
It was a battered old Buick. We’d found it in Pialto’s grandma’s garage.
It was his grandfather’s, but rest his soul, he wasn’t using it since he was buried in New Jersey and had been for the last six years.
His grandmother kept up the tags and insurance, and when Pialto pulled up to Easter Lanes with it, I didn’t ask.
It was better not to know sometimes, though I didn’t think his grandmother knew it wasn’t sitting in her garage.
“It’s your ride.” I got in the front passenger seat. “Get in, Shorty.”
I was ignoring how my dad’s attention jumped to me. He got into the back seat, moving at a sedate pace. “Peter, right?”
Pialto shot me a look. My dad had been introduced to him eleven times over the last two years. He never used the same P name. By now, Pialto replied, deadpan, “Hi, Mr.Shorty.”
My dad grunted, and then we were off.
I was just now realizing I could’ve taken the train, paid his bail, and had our conversation on the street. We could’ve parted our ways from there. This, the whole car thing, was overkill. I’d been acting on the basis that he was in prison and we needed to drive all the way there to get him.
Yeah.
Totally not planning ahead.
The seat squeaked as my dad leaned forward, his hand settling on the barrier between us. “You can drop me off—”
“We’re going to Easter Lanes. You can leave from there.”
“But—”
I raised my voice over my dad’s. “Easter Lanes, Peter.”
Pialto suppressed a laugh as he hit the turn signal and merged into the other lane. Three taxis whizzed past us. One was laying on his horn, his fist in the air. None of us reacted.
It was silent in our vehicle the whole way. Silent and tense, or maybe that was just me because I was having daydreams about me and my favorite shovel.
When we got to Easter Lanes, my dad got out first.
Pialto touched my hand. “I need to take the car back, but, you know.” He motioned to my dad, who was now trying to get into Easter Lanes even though it was before opening, so the door would be locked.
We both watched him.
He tried the door. It was locked. He tried again. It was still locked. A third time, but this time, he cursed and raked a hand over his head, calling over his shoulder, “Something’s wrong with your door!”
I was going to kill him. Full out. Full blast. Just take that shovel, grip it with two hands, hold it like the bat I never learned to use in softball because I didn’t play softball, but I was going to do it, and then, whack!
One good swing and his head would be the ball.
I’d send it sailing, clear off his body and into the infield. Home run for first-degree murder.
I knew people. I’d be okay on the inside.
“Girl.” Pialto’s hand squeezed mine. “Go in there. Fix yourself a drink. Ask Justin’s and Kelly’s spirits to come through for you. You do what you need to do, whatever Ashton asked you to do, even though I know you don’t want to do it. You totally got that.”
Right. I squeezed Pialto’s hand back. “Thanks, Peter.”
He snorted, winking at me. “Of course, sweetie. Me and Sophie, we got your back. Always.”
That’s right. He was my family, not that douchebag now banging on my door and yelling inside.
I got this. I could do this. Totally.
I got out, and Pialto sped off.
My dad turned to me, pointing inside. “You should do a scanner so I can just use my thumb and voilà, your door opens for me. Way easier to get in then.”
Murder. Yes. I’d start formulating my plan for how to get away with it as soon as I unlocked the door.
I opened the door, and my dad brushed past me, heading to the bar and dropping his bag on one of the stools.
“You have no idea how good it feels to be inside friendly walls.” He was heading for the bathroom, shaking his finger in the air as he went.
“No idea, honey. Then again, you’ll never need to be worried about going to jail.
It’s not like you’d do anything to get thrown in there. Hold on. I want to wash up.”
My phone buzzed.
Ashton: My sources tell me Shorty Easter was bailed out by his daughter. Also, you’d been drinking.
Oh, good idea. I went behind the counter and poured myself another drink.
I could hear the water running in the bathroom.
Me: You know people in the slammer. I’d be protected if I went temporarily insane in the next five minutes, right?
Ashton calling.
I answered, leaning my hip against the counter so I could see when my dad came back out. “I’m going to do what you want. Don’t worry.”
He was quiet for a second. “How much did you drink?”
“A few shots. I forgot to take a breath mint, but don’t worry, I had someone drive us.”
“I assumed you’d take the train.”
I needed another sip after the reminder. “I’m aware of that too. Now.”
He smothered a laugh on his end. “Text me when you’re done.”
The door opened. My dad came out, pulling up his pants and fixing his buckle.
His head was down. “You got any food in this place? I’m starving after my ordeal.
I can’t believe they kept me in there for a whole four days.
You must’ve been going out of your mind with worry that they weren’t processing me or something. ”
“Yeah. Sure,” I spoke dryly. I ended the call with Ashton. “Food?”
Shorty’s head lifted, and he frowned at me putting my phone away. “Who was that?”
I raised an eyebrow as I took another sip. “You want food?”
He focused on my drink. “It’s early for you to be drinking.” A whole new awareness was entering my dad’s gaze now. Wariness. “You okay, Molly Holly?”
God, I did not want to be here.
I did not want to do this with him.
Be fake. Be a con woman.
I didn’t want to become him.
My heart rate was rising.
My blood was boiling.
“Why was Ashton Walden here the other day?” His tone was quiet now.
Fuck him! Just, fuck. Him.
I was going to flip the switch.
Justin. Kelly. Justin. Kelly.
Remember.
“Forget Ashton. You know who should’ve been here that night? They would’ve been here that night.” I could feel them .
Kelly, her laugh. And Justin was always so nice.
My dad fell quiet, but I kept speaking, knowing he had no clue who I was talking about, knowing in his mind everything was about him and his questions and his needs and his desires and him, him, him, but not right now.
Right now was about me and what was burning up inside of me, and that was hate and longing, and murder. And pain. “Did you know that?”
“You’re on a first-name basis?”
“That’s not who I’m talking about.”
He scratched at his chin. “Huh?”
“Justin Worthing and Kelly.”
“You knew them?” Of course he knew about them, but he shouldn’t. He had never met them, but he knew about them, about their death. Ashton was right. My father could find anything out. He was such a rat.
“Kelly and Jess Montell came here every Sunday night. It was their thing. They came with friends who weren’t any of their normal friends.
Jess told me it was her night away from her work.
She needed it like church. My place”—my voice broke—“here. It was a sanctuary for them, and then Justin came in Jess’s place later, so I got to know him too.
” A tear slipped out. I didn’t dare look at my dad.
“He was a good guy. He wasn’t in the life, like his family was.
She was too. God. They both were so good.
They didn’t deserve what happened to them. Whoever did it.”
“Why are you talking about this? Why was Ashton Walden here that night?”
I lost it—turning, I heaved my drink at him.
His eyes bulged out, and he ducked. The glass went over his head, crashing and shattering against a chair. I let it go, glaring at my father in a way I never had before. He saw it and sucked in his breath. “Honey—”
“Don’t fucking ‘honey’ me! You conned me out of thirty thousand dollars! I want to murder you.” I was gritting my teeth at the end. Fuck this man.
I bent, grabbing whatever was closest to me, and I came back up, a broom in my hand.
“Molly.” His hands were up. He was backing away. “Honey. Sweetie. Let’s talk about this—”
“You want to know what Ashton Walden was doing here the other night? He told me the truth. Easter Lanes belongs to his family, to him. You made me pay for it! I hate you. I loathe you. I am currently planning on how to murder you. You asshole, narcissistic dirtbag who was never a father. You were worse than a father. You—” God!
I stopped, horrified at myself. I’d been about to let him know how much I knew about Mom.
“Molly! Come on! I’ll—help you get it back. How about that?”
“Get out!” Don’t get out, not yet. Stay.
I needed him to do what I needed him to do.
“Molly.” His voice was breaking. “I hate to see you like this. I—what can I do? Tell me what I can do. I’ll go to Walden. I’ll get him to give it back. I’ll—”
“Who killed Justin and Kelly?” The words ripped out of me, and I was saying things before knowing I was even going there. None of this was planned.
“What?” He started to drop his arms, straightening back up.
“Who killed them? You find out, and I can use that to get Easter Lanes back.”
“Honey, I—”
“Who killed them?”
“I don’t know!” He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know.”
“But you can find out.”
“What?” He turned, shaking his head. “Don’t ask me to do that. That’s serious business. That’s—that’ll put you in danger.”
I threw the broom at him.
“Come on!” He ducked but glared at me. “Why do you have to do that? I’m your father.”
“I grew up in foster care.”
“I—” He winced. “Well, maybe you had it better there than with me. Maybe I was doing you a favor? Ever think of it that way? I was doing you a favor—” He ducked again because I threw a shot glass at him.
When his head popped back up, I had another one already in the air.
He threw his whole body to the side to avoid it.
“Come on, Molly! Stop it! You’re going to have to pay for those! ”
“I don’t care.” I jumped to the top of the bar. I was about to launch my whole body at him when he saw and he cursed, rolling backward.
“Molly! Stop it!”
I was going to use my elbow. I would jump, my body would land next to him, and I’d slam my elbow into his face. That’s what I was going to do, and I bent my knees, readying.
“Okay! I’ll do it.”
I froze. “Do what?”
He shot his hands in the air from the ground. “I’ll find out who killed them, but when I do, you can only tell Walden. You hear me on that? You can’t say a word to anyone else. You’ll get yourself killed.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it!”
“Yes! I know.” I growled, reaching for another shot glass.
He saw it, jumping to his feet. He pointed at it. “Hey, now. No more of that.” His hands were up, his palms toward me, and he began edging to the door. “You want me to find out who killed your friends? I’ll do that, for you, but no one can know. I mean it, Molly. No one.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“I mean it!”
I growled and let loose with the shot glass.
My dad ducked, opening the door and jumping out of the way. It smashed into the doorframe.
“I’ll start looking today,” he yelled through the door. “I can see you’re still upset with me, so I’ll let you cool off, and I’ll find out what you want. I’m doing this for you, honey. I love you! I’m a good father, in my way. I know you know that—” Shatter!
Another shot glass shattered against the door.
He was quiet before he said, “I love you, honey. I’ll be in touch.”
I was still raging inside. Wanting to cry, wanting to commit murder. I was a whole mix, and I was suddenly and completely exhausted, too, but I didn’t move from the bar top. I couldn’t.
I sat there, moving to sit cross-legged, and I pulled out my phone.
Me: It’s done. He said he’d find out.
Me: I should’ve played softball growing up.
Ashton: Keep your head down from here on out.
He didn’t reply about the softball, but that was okay. I knew I was right. I would’ve been amazing.
I promptly started crying.