CHAPTER EIGHTEEN MOLLY
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
MOLLY
My cousin texted just as I was letting myself into my apartment.
Glen: All good. Had a good night. You need me tomorrow?
I paused in the open door, putting my purse on the floor.
Me: No. I’ll be good tomorrow. Thank you so much.
Glen: Rest. Hope you feel better.
I stepped all the way in, letting the door swing shut behind me, and I was reaching up to lock it when my brain clicked on.
I’d stepped into the space my purse had been.
Meaning, it wasn’t there anymore. Sheer panic exploded in me at the same time—a body was in my space.
I was upended, hanging over someone’s shoulder in the next second, and that’s when the scream left me.
The guy grunted as he shut the door the rest of the way and hit the locks on. “It’s me.”
I froze. Me?! As in, I tried to twist around to see him. “Ashton?”
He’d already been inside my apartment. How? What?
He walked a few more feet back into the living room before he tossed me on the couch.
He followed me down, almost landing on top of me, but as I was sprawled out, he was holding himself just above me.
One hand to the couch’s arm behind my head and the other on the back of the couch.
It was an impressive plank, and he didn’t seem winded.
Then I clued in on how angry his eyes were. His jaw was clenched. His eyes seared into mine. “I told you to stay put. Why was I then told that you’d left?”
I opened my mouth, indignation quickly replacing the terror that he just gave me, and then my body got heated.
I poked a finger against his chest. “You’re the one who left.
And you didn’t tell me anything. You were all hands-on and in my space.
I was feeling a sort of way, and then bam, you’re gone. What’s with you and Jess?”
The alcohol was still there, still affecting me, but we’d stopped for pizza on the way home. That was helping.
His eyes narrowed to slits. “Montell and I are none of your business. And I didn’t want you to leave. I was coming back.”
“Then you should’ve said that.” I gave him a little sheepish look.
“We went to the bathroom and then just kept going.” I pushed him back so I could sit up, and I tried to fold my arms over my chest. Tried.
He was very close to me, close enough where I could feel his body heat. “I want to know about you and Jess.”
“She’s worried about you.”
“It’s more than that.”
“That is none of your business. It’s between her and myself.”
I frowned. “Not even Trace?”
Ashton pressed his mouth into a very firm and disapproving line and gave me a meaningful look. Okay then. I wasn’t totally sure what that meant, but it was between him and Jess.
“Why did you come to Katya tonight? Did something new happen with your father?”
I frowned. Something always happened with my father.
“No. Nothing new except he’s scum that doesn’t deserve to be walking the streets.
He should be in prison, or forced to hand milk a goat, on a mountain, in a yurt, all by himself.
Can you make that happen?” He was still so close, and my body was all sorts of reacting to him.
I had fuzzies going on in my tummy, and they were in a tizzy.
“Can we talk about the body-claiming stuff? Why are you always so close to me? Not that I’m complai—”
He was staring at me, but then he went on alert.
His head snapped toward the door, and he held still like that for a second; then with a curse, he grabbed me and rolled. His body fell to the ground, but with the momentum, I was up and on my feet before I knew what was happening. He let me go, was up and took my hand in his.
“Wha—”
He twisted around, his hand covering my mouth, and he yanked me against his chest. “Be quiet. Someone’s at your door.”
My door?
It was probably my father. I hoped it wasn’t him. Shorty wasn’t supposed to know where I lived.
I pushed away from Ashton, taking a step toward the door. “It’s probably—”
The door swung open, and a guy was there. He froze, looking right at us. He was on his knees, his hands up, working on my door handle, but then a beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeep —
The door exploded, toward us.
Ashton flung himself in front of me, shielding me.
Then he was up and on his feet, running back toward where the door should’ve been.
Instead, a huge hole was there. A guy was lying down in the hallway, but he looked up.
His tools were blasted around him, and one was in the wall behind him.
He paled, his eyes big as he saw Ashton, and was up, on his feet, running to meet him.
The two clashed. He threw a punch. Ashton dodged and threw one of his own, and then that guy was bringing up a gun—
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The guy fell back, his body jerking with each bullet—that was coming from Ashton! I hadn’t even seen him pull a gun, and where had he even had that on him? The guy collapsed on the floor, and Ashton kicked the man’s own gun away, toward me. “Leave that alone.”
Kneeling, he checked his pulse before moving to pat him down. His wallet was taken and pocketed. His phone. Some keys. Ashton did a thorough job before he seemed content.
Walking back to me, he put his own gun away, slipping it into wherever he’d pulled it from.
He knelt, grabbed the man’s gun, and emptied the chamber before pocketing it.
His phone was ringing, and he answered it, moving into my bedroom.
I was in shock—I knew this. My mind was working, but I wasn’t feeling.
That was weird.
I was watching Ashton going through my room.
He rummaged in my closet, grabbing a bag.
Some clothes were tossed in my bag. Shoes.
He was talking to someone on the phone as he went into my bathroom and came back, another bag zipped up.
I didn’t even know whose bag that was—no.
It was mine. It was my Happy Earth bag. I was so proud of it because I’d bought enough clothes that the company put money toward cleaning the ocean.
“—no ... body ... yes.”
Ashton’s voice was registering with me, slowly. In pieces.
He was motioning to me, pointing at my book on my nightstand.
“What?”
“Do you need this?”
“Need what?”
He held something up. I didn’t know what it was. None of this was making sense.
A body—a body was in my hallway! I gasped, turning to go and look. Had I imagined all of that?
“No.” A firm hand had my arm, and I was being held back.
“No. I need to—”
“No, Molly.” He stopped in front of me, his hands holding my shoulders in place, and he gently walked me back a step until I was against the wall in my own doorway. “That man was trying to pick the lock, but he’s not the one who blew your door. I think that was someone else.”
“Who?”
His mouth was in a firm line. “I don’t know. I missed it. I didn’t see it either so it must’ve been small.”
His phone was ringing again.
Oh—that was mine.
“How do you know that guy didn’t do the door?”
Ashton stepped back but took my hand. He entwined our fingers, pulling me from the room. My Happy Earth bag over his shoulder. “Because he was just as shocked as us. Do you need anything from in there?”
He motioned for the kitchen.
Need? Like I was going somewhere. I shook my head, starting to tell him that was silly, but he took that as the answer to his question, and he led me back to the living room and entryway.
Another guy was there, bending over the man.
I gasped, braking, but the guy lifted his head, speaking to Ashton.
Oh, good. It was Elijah.
“—dead ... her?”
Ashton stepped in front of me, responding to his man before he lifted his hand, moving so he was half hugging me to his chest again. His hand went to cover my eyes, and he spoke, surprisingly gentle. “We’re going to step around the body. Don’t look. You won’t get that image out of your head.”
I readied myself as we were walking past. I couldn’t help myself. I looked, though Elijah was there. He was moving as we did, an extra barrier between us and the body.
Body. As in deceased.
Jesus.
Ashton had killed a man in my apartment. And I’d seen the whole thing. I was a Mafia witness.
But—this was at my place.
My home.
That guy was trying to pick my lock. If Ashton hadn’t ... I started shaking. My knees were knocking against each other, and my legs were getting all wobbly.
I was going down. I’d fainted enough times to recognize the signs.
Suddenly, Ashton stopped running in front of me. He muttered a curse before bending and sweeping me up in his arms.
I gasped, my hands flying out, grabbing for his back. He kept moving, hitting the emergency door exit, and we were running down the stairs fast.
The door below opened, and Ashton paused until a male voice called up, “Boss?”
We kept going. Or I mean, Ashton kept going. I was carry-on luggage.
Another two men met us as we ran down the last set of stairs. They didn’t say anything. Ashton didn’t either. We got to the main floor, and Ashton carried me out into the side alley.
Two vehicles were waiting for us. The back door opened.
Ashton deposited me inside before shutting the door and hurrying to the driver’s side.
He got behind the wheel. Just as he was putting it into drive, the front passenger door opened.
Elijah threw himself in, and he yanked the door closed as Ashton was peeling out of there.
There was a slight pause when we got to the street, but just barely. There was a small opening in traffic, and he used it, gunning the accelerator again.
Elijah looked back at me. “How’s she doing?”
I could hear him this time! Go me.
“In shock.”
Elijah gave me a small smile before turning to face the front. “She saw a lot tonight.”
“Don’t start.”
He glanced at Ashton. “I’m not. Just saying ...” He shrugged. “You know.”
Ashton’s jaw clenched. “I’m aware.”
I had no clue what they were talking about, and then I didn’t care.
Everything went dark.