Chapter Fourteen
TRAVIS
T onight is a fucking disaster before it’s even begun. Dean stayed hidden in the back of Sparky’s van, managing to get into the wedding without any trouble. I drew the short straw, being the one to help Sparky. I haven’t got a fucking clue what he’s doing, or how I’m supposed to be helping him. His sidekick he brought along when we checked this place out has been a no show since we left him here. Can’t say I’m fucking surprised, but obviously, considering the twat should never have come along in the first place, I also can’t say I blame him.
It does make me wonder where he has got to, though.
Dean’s been distant since that night. He seems up for our business; guy’s not stopped making all the calls and sorting all the paperwork that we need done. Deep down, I guess he realised it was his fuck up to let Elvis tag along so he’s been trying to make up for it.
Whilst he disappears into the surrounding woods, heading towards the house, I’m now in plain sight amongst the elite. I guess I should be laughing. No way anyone of these fuckers is going to be looking our way. We’re far too common for them.
“Oi,” I say, nabbing Sparky’s attention.
He swings his head, looking at me, carrying a heavy speaker.
“Where the fuck does this go?” I look at the box of cables he passed me, clueless.
“Just dump it there,” he instructs me.
So I do just that, dropping the box to the ground with a bang.
“Be careful,” he spits.
I look up, scanning my eyes over the crowd, ignoring Sparky, watching them drinking, dining, laughing and joking in all their finery. Fuck me. I’ll be glad when Sparky starts the evening entertainment, and I can get on with why we came here.
Turning my head, I spot the piece of scum we’re here for. He’s sat at the head table, his wife sat to his left. Shame there’s too many eyes between me and him. I’d love nothing more than to drag him off his fucking pedestal and let him have both barrels. Once we do get to him, I’ve got to make sure Dean doesn’t turn into the rage monster he has been of late. We can’t kill the bastard. Can’t drop a bullet between his eyes and simply take what we want. No. We need this cunt alive and compliant.
Honestly? I’m not feeling hopeful. Especially given how the past week has played out. I feel as though I’ve been the lead in a circus show and I’m on every bloody night. I just need to rest. Need to find some calm. Because I can’t fucking keep up. We had a club run, managing to narrowly avoid being picked up with two-hundred bags of cocaine on us after Dennis’ bike broke down on the motorway. Then there’s this shit with Elvis. I’ve searched high and low for the cunt without telling a soul, but there’s nothing. Throw in Dean and I getting all the necessary paperwork done for the business and Mollie, and it’s no wonder my head’s been swimming. I don’t know whether I’m coming or fucking going. I don’t even remember the last time I slept for more than two hours before needing to be somewhere.
Actually, I do. With Mollie.
Deep down, all I wanted was to get to the farm and lose myself in her. I know she would have been wondering where I was and why I didn’t show, given how I took off the other day, but she came crashing into my life without warning. Lying awake at night trying to figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do, put things into perspective. I fell so hard and so fucking fast, the time not spent with her has only confirmed how I feel. I want her. Need her. She gives me a drive I’ve not felt in years.
I just need to figure out juggling it all. One thing’s for sure, I don’t want to be without her.
Seeing Janette’s face as well, that was a sight I haven’t seen in a long time. It was pride. Happiness. And it felt good to be the cause of that. Rather than show up dead on my knees like a zombie, I’ve stayed away knowing that once all this shit’s done, I can go back. Give them all more of me.
And what’s that I detect? Oh, yeah, my fucking heart picking up at speed at the mere thought of her. Go back one month, and I had no direction. No purpose.
Now?
Swinging back to Sparky, he manoeuvres himself and yet another giant speaker from his van. I barge him out the way, taking it from him. I’m stronger, so I can lift it quicker. “Start setting up. I’ll do the lifting.”
“Got it.”
The two of us move in tandem, moving back and forth between his van. Dean checks in letting me know he’s near the house. Now we just have to wait.
There’s a bang, and I hear a group of people gasp as a waiter frantically waves his hand, dabbing a large cloth to the table.
I freeze. My blood turning to ice. There’s a man I recognise sat at one of the tables. The woman he’s sat next to has her back to me, but I recognise her the minute her head swings to see the commotion on the table next to her.
Jesus fucking Christ. She’s here ? With him ? Her old friends are these bastards? My temper flares like a tornado ripping through me. I really shouldn’t, considering I haven’t exactly been the most talkative this past week, but I grab my phone, my fingers heavy against the screen as I type out a message to her.
Me: What did you wear to the party?
What am I, fifteen? I frown at myself looking up, watching as she pulls out her phone and replies.
Baby Doll: A green dress
I look up. It’s definitely her. Her short answer feels off, just like her message earlier today. It’s going to be a late one for me too. Is she having a late night with posh boy? Posh boy whose face is now close to hers sending shards of glass to tear open my flesh. I don’t know where the fuck this is coming from, but I’m pretty fucking certain I now have a new problem to add to tonight’s ordeal, because there is no way I want her anywhere near where I’m conducting business. Period.
Even if she’s here with someone else. Which I’m apparently , not fucking happy about. I’m shaking like a fucking teenager who’s been dumped. Shit. Her hooks are in fucking deep.
I hit dial, wanting his face away from hers, now.
She doesn’t answer, and I feel my body begin to tense.
“Hey,” Sparky mutters from behind me.
“What?” I snap at him.
“What are you doing?”
I realise in the heat of the moment, I’ve stepped into clear view, standing like a complete and utter twat just watching her.
Sparky coughs, but it’s too late. I miss his warning of someone coming over to us.
“Gentlemen,” the guy says, a Scotch in his hand.
I look at him, then back to Mollie.
She stands, and I feel my heart explode like a bomb just detonated in my chest. That dress. Her body. I swear I’ve never seen anything like it before. Her hips sway, the dress she’s wearing elegantly trailing behind her as her long legs carry her away from the table. Her long legs that keep appearing with every step she takes due to the giant slit up one side. What the fuck? Oh, I’m going to tear that dress to pieces. If anyone should get to look at her the way that every guy here is right now. It’s me. Only me.
The man next to me coughs, dragging my attention from my goddess.
I look at him, wondering what the fuck he wants, and more importantly, wondering why the fuck Mollie’s here? “Can I help you?”
He appears put out by my tone but I don’t give a flying fuck. “This looks pretty extravagant. Will it take long?”
Seriously? We’ve been here less than half an hour and this cunt expects it done already? “It’ll take as long as it takes.” And it would take less time if he left us alone to get on with it. Looking away from him, I grind my teeth unable to see her. She’s gone. Fuck .
“The sooner you have it done the sooner people can start having some fun.”
Turning on the spot, I look at him, my face blank. I can’t even give him a smart answer for fear of snapping his neck. He’s looking at me like I’m the scum on the bottom of his shoe. It makes my fist ball, my anger rising.
“We’re on it, sir. We’ll make sure you have a pleasant evening.”
Sir? Pleasant evening? Who the fuck does Sparky think he’s talking to? Yeah, this guy looks like he has a few bob under his belt, but he shouldn’t dumb himself down for anyone. Ever.
“Very well. Make sure you give them a good show,” the man says, taking a sip of his Scotch before he turns, giving me his back, and walks away. What a cunt.
I turn to Sparky. He’s stock still, staring at me. “Lose your fucking bollocks, did you?”
“Fuck off.”
I balk, but I’ll let that one slide because my head’s now spinning.
“Any word from Elvis yet?” he asks me.
Fuck. “No.” I was hoping Sparky would tell me that Elvis ran off, or that he’d shit himself and was too scared to show.
“When did you last see him?” I ask him, as casually as I fucking can, now that we’re alone.
He drops what he’s carrying to the floor. “I haven’t seen him since Dean came back here and told me to leave.”
What? Dean came back here and sent Sparky on his way but not Elvis? I can’t let on that this is news to me. “Right.” I turn and walk to the van. “How much longer is this going to take?”
He smiles, plugging in a wire. “Now who’s the stuck-up wanker?”
My eyes move really slow to his. “Hurry, the fuck, up,” I sneer, before I allow my eyes to scan the crowd one more time. Still no sign of her. Where the fuck has she gone?
A whole hour later, and Sparky finally has his set up complete, the music already blaring through the speakers. Every fibre of my body has been itching to get away from him. From our spot, I haven’t once seen Mollie walk past. I tried ringing her again, but she didn’t answer it, only serving to piss me off further. “You know what to do when I call,” I say, rather than ask.
“Got it,” he says with a nod, turning back to his decks.
I walk away, glad to be finally fucking moving. The sky is dark, the only light is coming from the orange glow of fairy lights and Sparky’s set up. I keep myself hidden, moving through the shadows until I get to Dean.
“Finally,” he gripes.
I scowl at him. “Anything?” I nod my chin to the back of the house he’s been watching.
“Nothing yet. ”
I think about questioning him about Elvis, but now isn’t the right time. I need his head in the game. I need my own head in the game. I’m still not over the fact Mollie’s here, and why I didn’t know that this is the crowd she comes from.
So different to mine. Doesn’t bother me. But maybe it will bother her?
Watching on, we wait until the dancefloor is virtually full. The sea of people moving to the beat of the music Sparky plays.
Dean nudges me without a word, flicking his head to the back of the house. No one has access except staff. And the bride and groom.
We watch as they slip away from the horde of people that are here, making their way into their house. The tell-tale signs of them making their way to their room shows as lights flick on upstairs. Brilliant.
“We going in before his happy ending, or we letting him have this?”
I laugh. “It would be rude to just barge in unannounced whilst he’s balls deep.”
We exchange a look and simultaneously stand.
“Sparky ready?” Dean asks.
I give him another nod as the music changes. “I’ll let him know to start the show now.” Pulling out my phone, I give Sparky our signal, letting the phone ring three times before I end the call.
“He’s g—” No more words come out my mouth. I catch sight of Mollie, her hand in the grasp of a woman. She’s guided to the dancefloor, and I’d say given their height and similar looks, they’re related. Her mother?
Whoever she is, she’s swaying from left to right as Mollie, seemingly reluctantly, begins moving her feet to the beat of the music. She’s fucking beautiful. The longer I watch, the closer I want to be. Don’t be stupid , I tell myself, wishing the pull toward her wasn’t as strong as it is. How the fuck am I supposed to be focused when she’s here, looking this fucking good, and I don’t have my hands on her?
Willing my dick and heart to settle, I direct my gaze to Dean who’s watching me, a questioning look in his eyes.
“Problem?” he asks, his eyes looking to where the music’s coming from. It doesn’t take him long to spot her. She stands out amongst the glitz and the glamour, being the most natural looking one here.
“No problem,” I say quite calmly.
“Riiight,” Dean replies, and I roll my eyes at him as we both continue moving. “Guessing you’re okay with that then.”
My eyes snap to where I know she is.
Posh boy’s hand is held out, and the woman Mollie’s dancing with steps back, making way for him to step forward. He better not step fucking forward.
I sense Mollie’s hesitance to dance with him, her shoulder’s dropping, her eyes searching the crowd for an out. There isn’t one. But I could get down there. Save her.
But I can’t. Fuck . We got lucky with our man going in the house without needing us to drag him in there. It’s now or fucking never. We don’t know how long we’ve got until he comes out.
I watch as Mollie takes his hand, and the pair of them step together.
Yeah. Not fucking happening.
I’m turning on the spot without any thought.
“Travis!” Dean whisper shouts. “Fuck’s sake.”
I look back at him. “Get in there,” I point to the house, “do what you have to do. I’ll be there in a fucking minute.”
Marching my way to her, I knock into people as I come up behind them.
Posh boy has his hands around her waist, making my ears ring and my head pound. He twirls her, and I can’t deny the hurt I feel. That should be me spinning her around. I should be the one showing her off on the dancefloor. Not this prick.
Brushing past her, she gasps as I get up in the face of the man making his move on what’s mine.
“Travis?” Mollie quite rightly sounds confused. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She grabs my arm, but I don’t look at her.
I look at her hand still on me before slowly locking them on the man in front of me. “You thought you could touch what’s not yours?”
He tries to look at Mollie, and like a fucking child, I lean to my left, blocking his view.
“Travis. What are you doing?” she hisses from behind me.
What am I doing? Claiming her. Putting my stamp on what I want. I don’t have any fucking right to do that.
“Mollie?” He says her name which only serves to send shockwaves through my system.
My fists curl into balls, my hands trembling down by my sides. I don’t want to draw attention to us, yet, here I am, just about fucking ready to tear this guy’s head from his shoulders. “She’s no longer your concern, posh boy.”
“Jesus Christ.” From the corner of my eye I see Mollie slap a hand to her face.
I puff out my chest, like that’s going to somehow prove I’m serious. My phone vibrates. No doubt it’ll be Dean. I need to get to him. Go help with what I actually came here to do. I have no choice. “She’s coming with me.”
“What?” Posh boy asks.
“I am?”
I let out a sigh. “Yes.”
“Isn’t that up to her?”
I blow out my breath. “Not tonight.”
“Are you serious?” Mollie asks, dragging my arm back so that I’m facing her.
The second her eyes hit mine, I see everything I’ve missed these past few days. Fuck. There’s the pull again. The sudden flare of my heart kicking into action. “Yeah, baby, I am. You come with me now—”
“—or what?” she interrupts, wasting more of my fucking time.
I smirk. “Or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and take you.”
Her shoulders drop. She knows I’m serious. She takes a moment simply taking me in. I let her take it, needing her to see that I’m fucking serious. She wants to refuse me, I can see it in the curve of her eyes. But she equally doesn’t want to cause a scene. “Go, Hen.” Her eyes stay on mine as she tells him to leave.
Henry doesn’t move.
Hell, we don’t move.
“What?” he eventually asks, reading us both.
Mollie turns to him then. “It’s fine. Please, go.”
He drags his eyes off me and looks at her. “You sure? I don’t want to leave you.”
“She’s fine, princess.”
His eyes are back on me.
I smile.
“Bloody hell. Please. Go. I’ll message you later.”
She what ?
“No. You won’t.” A weird silence, or more so, an understanding passes between them. Posh boy then turns on his heels, and for the briefest of moments, I swear I see disappointment flash across Mollie’s face. I open my mouth to talk, but she turns, getting her face up in mine.
Her smell. Those eyes. The angry look on her face. “Hi.” The way she scowls at me only causes a smile to break on my face. It quickly drops when my phone vibrates again. Pulling it out, it’s Dean. Shit. I look back at her. She’s still scowling. Still beautiful. “Let’s go.” I slide my arm under hers, pulling her to follow me. I really don’t fucking want to take her to the house, but I won’t risk losing her or have posh boy finding her and convincing her I’m no good for her. I have a feeling I’m about to do that for myself.
She follows, but not without dragging her feet.
Fine by me. I pull her harder.
“Ouch,” she says flatly.
I ignore her, dodging people, making it to the back of the house. I call Dean, pulling her into me.
She huffs. “You better explain what the—”
I put my hand over her mouth. “Let me in,” I tell him when he answers.
Mollie bats my hand away, her eyes frighteningly glaring at me.
I wish I could explain every thought currently running through my head. But I don’t have the time.
When Dean opens the door, his eyes jump between both of ours.
Mollie’s head is doing the same.
“Fuck’s sake.” I grab Mollie’s arm and step forward, making Dean step back.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
I close the door behind me with my foot. “Good fucking question. But we don’t have time to argue about that now. Where is he?”
The lights in the kitchen are off, but I can see the way Dean looks at me, like he won’t say a word whilst Mollie’s listening. His face is tight, loads of lines pulling across his head. With everything I’ve got, I try to ignore the way Mollie keeps tugging to pull her arm free from my hold.
But I can’t. “Stop fucking fighting me!” I shout so harshly, even Dean straightens.
I miss it. Miss the draw of her hand pulling back. But I feel it. The harsh sting to the side of my face as she connects her palm, the one not in my hold, directly to the side of my face. “Go to hell!”
I straighten my jaw with my free hand. “Oh, Baby Doll, you’ve already dragged me there.”
Her chest rises and falls, the steady bounce of her breasts really fucking hard to ignore.
“You two done?”
“Barely fucking started,” I snap. “Now, where the fuck is he?”
The sound of feet coming down the stairs sounds.
“Apparently, on his way to us,” Dean says sarcastically under his breath.
“Shit,” I whisper through gritted teeth.
Dean moves first, hiding himself behind the kitchen door.
I see a cupboard door behind Mollie.
She quickly peers over her shoulder, following my eyes, then snaps her head back to me. “You wouldn’t.”
“Sorry.” I shrug, opening the door and pushing her inside.
She grimaces and curses me under her breath as I force myself inside too, pulling the door closed and blanketing us in more darkness. Our bodies push up against each other, and sucking in some air, I beg my dick to settle. Just for one fucking minute, I will it to calm the fuck down.
The light switches on, and the sound of giggling comes from the other side of the door. I feel Mollie’s body move left to right slightly as she shifts her weight. Is she doing that on purpose just to fucking irritate me? She has no idea how fucking important it is that we get this guy on board tonight. Why would she.
My eyes begin to adjust, and I see her struggling like me. Good. Time apart hasn’t changed a thing. At least I’m not alone here.
More giggling. “Stop, Tim. She could come in here any minute.”
Mollie lets out a gasp. Shocked.
I look at her as best I can, trying to read her face.
Her lips are parted, her eyes narrowed. She moves without thinking, pressing her ear to the door as I’m forced to pivot, making way for her.
Great. Now I’m standing behind her, her arse jutting out the closer to the door she presses herself. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
“Did you hear something?” the girl says, in between giggles. The sound of someone kissing her and distracting her is clear.
Mollie straightens, and I can feel the anger radiating off of her. Before I can stop her, though, she pushes open the door with a bang. Fortunately, the door swings back enough so that they can’t see me. “Sarah?” Mollie says. She knows her?
“Oh my God, Mollie. What are doing here?” the girl says, stunned.
“I could ask you the same question.” I dip, watching through the small gap as Mollie folds her arms, shifting her weight to one foot, accusingly.
“I was just… we were.” The girl stammers, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
“We were doing nothing. More importantly, young lady, why the hell are you in my broom cupboard?”
I don’t like his tone with my girl. I go to push out from my hiding place.
“Young lady?” Mollie huffs, standing tall in her heels, making me pause. Maybe she can handle this without me? “Says the man with lips all over a twenty-year-old.”
“She’s twenty-six,” the twat says, as if that will help him.
Mollie laughs a little sinisterly. “Twenty-one, actually, and supposedly meant to be dating my friend.” That’s what’s got her back up? Mollie turns to the girl. “I suggest you go back out there, find Henry and tell him what you’ve done. If you don’t, I will.”
The girl begins to sob. “He doesn’t need to know. Please. I’m sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“No. You won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Mollie’s harsh words fill me with an odd, and probably somewhat misplaced, sense of pride.
“What’s it to you?” the girl squeaks.
Mollie looks between the man and her. “He’s a good man. He deserves someone who isn’t a whore.”
Ouch.
“You can’t speak to her like that,” Tim says.
I hear the door swing open, then the girl running away, crying.
“No? Okay, I’ll speak to you like it then.”
I smile. That a girl.
“It’s your wedding day. And you’re in here, what? Fucking the youngest thing you can find? You make me sick.” Mollie stalks to the door, out of my sight, but I hear a clatter. The telltale sound of her body being shoved.
Not on my fucking watch.
I burst from my spot, the door flying open .
Dean moves at the exact same time as me.
Dearest Timothy made a grave mistake thinking he could pin the most precious thing in my life up against the frame of the door. Granted, she fucking hates me right now, but I’ll sort that later.
Dean kicks the back of his leg, forcing him to bend just as my fist rains down on the side of his head.
The cunt drops like a sack of shit, crumpling to the floor by my feet.
I look up. Find Mollie’s eyes, and she gives me a nod, her hand holding her throat.
I let out my breath. Damn. I don’t like seeing that look on her face. It’s a mixture between anger, hurt and uncertainty. Uncertainty for what’s happening. Uncertainty for what’s going to happen next.
I stand straight, rising to my full height.
Mollie’s back remains against the door.
“Don’t move from that spot,” I tell her sternly, as Dean forces the man on the floor to his feet. His body hangs drooped, his head not quite in the game.
“Travis?”
“Is the rest of the house secure?” I ask Dean, my eyes not leaving Mollie’s as her curiosity grows.
“Ground floor, yeah. The only door unlocked is this one.”
“Take him to another room, I’ll be right behind you.” I need this shit to happen as far away from Mollie as possible, and as quickly as fucking possible. Sparky’s good, but no way can he keep the entire crowd’s attention on him for much longer.
I don’t need to look at Dean, but he drags Tim by the collar, out of our sight, leaving me with Mollie.
There’s one of two ways this can go.