29. Molly
Chapter 29
Molly
“W e weren’t right for each other, Travis.” Reasoning with him wasn’t working, and I didn’t know what else to do. Every word I said either offended him or sent him into an anger spiral.
“We were fucking perfect together until you got it in your head that you wanted better than me!”
I shook my head. “We were never perfect. You thought I should’ve been grateful to have you, like you were somehow better than me. That’s why I left. You didn’t like or respect me.” The more distance I got from Travis and our relationship, the clearer it all was.
“I put so much time into our relationship and you gave it up for that old fuck in months. Months, Molly!”
It was hard not to smile at how upset that fact made him, but I bit down on the inside of my cheek to avoid angering him further. “I was never safe with you.”
“Bullshit! I never once laid a hand on you.”
That much was true, anyway. “Maybe not, but you only felt good when you were tearing me down, which meant I never felt good or loved or safe with you—definitely not enough to get naked with you.” I shook my head, trying to remove my emotions from this situation. “Neither of us was happy in our relationship.”
“We’ll be happy this time,” he insisted. “And I’m working on forgiving you for whoring yourself out to a middle-aged cowboy.”
My shoulders fell because I didn’t know what else to say or do to make him understand that we were over. Forever. I couldn’t let the feeling of defeat overwhelm me. I had to find a way out of here and away from Travis, who was growing more delusional by the minute. “I didn’t whore myself out to anyone.”
“Still, I’ll forgive you, and we’ll be happy together. You’ll see.” He couldn’t even manage a smile or a softer tone when he made that promise.
“We will never be happy together, Travis. Can’t you see? You want an object to control. Do you even like me?” I already knew the answer, but I suspected he did not.
“You loved me once,” he reminded me desperately.
“I thought I could love you at one time, sure. But this—kidnapping me and tying me up? How can I ever love anyone who would do this to me? Who would put a knife to a child?”
“You’ll love me again.” He shook his head, speaking more to himself than to me because, once again, Travis wasn’t listening to what I had to say.
“You only wanted an ornament, Travis. You don’t know me, and you don’t want me, so I don’t even understand what any of this is about.” If I’d been stronger and ended things sooner, maybe none of this would have happened.
No, this is on him, not me.
He whirled around and got right in my face, eyes wide and angry. “This is about us. I want you back, and you do too. You’re just confused right now.”
“I’m not confused,” I sighed. “I’m not confused, and I don’t love you, Travis.”
“You do,” he roared, punctuating his words with a backhand across my face. “You loved me once, and you can love me again. You will.”
My face stung from the blow, and I squeezed my eyes shut, trying like hell to keep my tears from falling. I needed to be strong, more now than ever. “I will never love you,” I whispered. “Never,” I said again, louder the second time.
“You will,” he growled and gripped my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing hard enough I knew there would be bruises tomorrow. If I make it that long , I thought just a moment before his mouth crashed down on mine again.
I went slack at first, giving nothing in return because the idea of kissing him again made me sick to my stomach. “I won’t,” I mumbled against his mouth and bit his bottom lip as hard as I could.
Travis reared back and smiled. “You will. In fact, I think I’ll enjoy breaking you for good.” He slapped me again on the same side of the face, which left a stinging sensation across the right side of my face.
His words made me mad. Really, really mad. I threw my head back and laughed. “ You are going to break me?”
“Yeah, that’s right. You’ll forget all about your little cowboy.”
“Rancher,” I spat out. “I’ll never forget him. He’s the first man who taught me what love really is. What passion and longing feel like.” I braced myself for the next blow because Travis’ face was so red I thought he might pass out or hit me.
He hit me. “No!”
“Yes!” It was madness, taunting him, but I needed him to make a mistake, to become so distracted that I had enough time to rush to the door and get the hell out of here.
Travis stood above me with a thunderous expression on his face that spelled more pain for me. He raised his hand high above his head, and rather than look away, I stared at him in shock, unable to believe that this was what our relationship had devolved into.
I braced myself when his hand came down, but the front door was kicked open, and before Travis’ hand could strike me again, he was tackled to the ground by a familiar face. Colton. My knight in dusty cowboy boots had arrived to save me.
Travis tried to crawl away like the weasel he was, but Colton gripped the back of his shirt and dragged him back, flipping him over and rewarding him with two bone-crushing punches to the face. “Stop,” Travis cried out. “Please,” he said on a whimper.
“Come on, sweetheart.” Wyatt’s voice sounded softly in my ear as he lifted me from the cold floor and dragged me out of the small shack. “Let me look at you.”
“But Colton,” I began nervously.
Wyatt smiled up at me. “Colton is just fine, trust me. He’s gotta do this, you understand?”
I didn’t at all, but the sound of several more punches mixed with Travis’ pained grunts gave me some insight. “Don’t ever come near her again,” Colton growled sometime later.
I hissed in pain when Wyatt cut the ropes from my wrists.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay; they’re a little sore.” When I looked down at my wrists, they were red and slightly chafed.
“A bit of aloe or cocoa butter will fix you right up,” he said, gently gripping my chin to turn my face left and right. “A few bruises are gonna pop up in the next few days too. You good everywhere else?”
I nodded, understanding immediately what he was asking. “Just a few hits. He knocked me down, but nothing feels broken.”
Wyatt nodded, a grave expression on his face. “When the shock wears off, we’ll see if you need a doctor or not.”
I nodded absently, tilting my head to listen for any other sounds from inside, but the sound of sirens grew louder and louder, drowning out everything else.
“I called them when we spotted you. Can’t let the little fucker get away with this, right?”
I nodded, looking over my shoulder at the trail of dust left by two squad cars rushing down the road. “Right.” The air sizzled around me, charged and thick, and when I swung my gaze back around, Colton was there, standing on the small wooden slats meant to be a porch, all broad-shouldered, protective cowboy. “Colt.” His name came out in a breathless whisper.
“Molly,” he growled, and in two long strides, he was there in front of me, wrapping his big arms around me and squeezing me tight. “You’re all right, sweetheart. Perfectly safe.”
His deep voice rumbled against my face, and I inhaled his earthy, masculine scent. “You saved me. Both of you.”
“What else could we do? You’re part of the family now,” Wyatt said, giving my back a gentle rub.
“Tell me you’re okay, Molly.”
I pulled back, reluctant to leave the warmth and protection of Colton’s embrace, but I needed to look into his eyes. “I’m okay, Colton. Scared and a little banged up, but otherwise, I’m good. Thanks to you.”
His brows knitted together into a dark scowl. “He hit you. More than once?”
I nodded. “A couple of times. I had to make him angry, or else,” I looked away, unwilling to say the words out loud. “I didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t angry.”
“Oh, Molly.” He yanked me to him and held me even tighter. “I should’ve killed him.”
“No, he’s not worth it. Hunter needs you. McCall Ranch needs you. I need you too, Colton.”
He stared at me for a long, heated moment before his mouth crashed down over mine. His kiss was rough and claiming, hungry and full of the kind of desire that doesn’t go away easily. He wanted me; I felt it in the very depths of my heart and my soul.
I wanted him too, and I needed him to know it.
Soon.
For now, I pressed my body so close to his that there was no clear sign where one of us ended and the other began, and I threw myself into the kiss. It was the kiss to end all kisses—hot and hungry while the chaos of police officers swirled around us. We didn’t care, and we didn’t part; we stayed there in our own little bubble of happiness until it was time to relive the past few hours of hell.
Later, I told myself. There would be time to lay it all on the line later.