Chapter Fifteen
MOLLIE
H e steps closer to me, his body tense, his face scrunched. The nerve of him. To think he can intimidate me into staying put after showing up here, of all fucking places, then drag me away like he owns me.
I knew he was behind me before he showed himself. I could feel him. Could smell him. Could sense his presence. It was as though my body could feel him nearby before my brain could register what was happening. A small part of me is glad he’s here, but a larger part of me is pretty sure that what he and Dean are about to do, isn’t something I’m meant to know about.
He dragged me in here. I didn’t want to come. I wasn’t necessarily enjoying dancing with Henry, but he couldn’t find Sarah. And now I know why.
The nerve of her. He deserves so much better.
Tim laying his hands on me was a something I didn’t see coming. Travis now standing in front of me, bracing for impact, is something I could see a fucking mile off. My temper begins to flare, just like his nostrils.
“I—”
My palm slaps the side of his face before he can give me some appeasing bullshit.
He closes his eyes and licks his lips, his cheek instantly flushing pink. I can see him mentally trying to work out what to do first. Kiss me. Kill me. Or get to business. “I’m going to go in there. You’re going to stay here.”
I raise my hand to hit him again for not giving me enough credit.
He blocks it, his hand easily gripping mine. “Enough!” he barks. “I don’t have the time for this, Mollie. You can hate me later, but right now, I have shit to do. I know you’re going to want to defy me,” I balk with a roll of my eyes, “but I need you to fucking listen to me.”
“Like a good girl?”
“No, baby, like the fucking woman you want to be.”
My face drops, and Travis sees. His eyes relax if only a fraction, and I let my shoulders fall. “Fine.”
Travis grinds his jaw before turning on his heels to leave. He takes a few steps away from me, pauses, then reaches for the meat cleaver in with the utensils.
I suck in a breath.
“Don’t move,” he says over his shoulder, not looking at me. “Anyone comes, call me.”
He’s like a different man. The biker. The outlaw. Clearly, the criminal.
And I wait, like what? Their bloody lookout? Racking my brain as to why I don’t go charging behind him, I make sure the door is locked, then rest my head against it, flinging it back. Doesn’t matter what they’re doing in there. I’m here, so now I’m involved. Whether I want to be or not.
A few minutes pass. Thud. I hear a fist hitting flesh, and my ears prick up. Listening. There’s a moan, followed by another thud, then the sounds of whimpering. Tim must be crying. Two mean looking guys jumping out on you when you’re caught red handed cheating on your wife will probably do that to you.
Unless they’re doing so much worse than what I think I can hear?
What the hell am I doing here? And more importantly, what the hell are they doing in there?
The next thud that comes, echoes down the hall. Masked by a mouth being covered, the cries pouring out from Tim are much worse this time. He’s in agony. Hurt. There’s the sound of a struggle, followed by Dean’s voice. I can’t hear what he’s saying over the beat of the music pulsing from outside. The DJ had everyone up and involved with a drone display. He is good.
A shadow moves on the other side of the door, and I try my hardest not to move and draw attention to myself. I hold my breath, slamming my eyes shut. Shit. Shit. Shit. Whoever is outside walks past the door, and I quickly push away from it, sucking in some oxygen as I swiftly flick off the light .
It’s from my spot that I hear the deep growl of Travis’ voice telling Tim that it’s his last chance. To do what?
“No more fucking about, Tim. Sign it and it’s done.”
Tim groans.
I take a step closer, keeping my heels off the ground, standing on my tiptoes as I take another small step. Curious.
There’s no way of seeing what’s happening, but as I edge my way toward the door, my heart drums a little faster. My palms grow a little sweatier. Fear and anger spark anew. I press my ear to the door for the second time this evening, listening as closely as I can.
“You… can’t…” Tim can barely talk. Whatever they’ve done—whatever they’re doing, he doesn’t sound good.
“Oh, we can, Tim. And we will. So, last chance to do the right thing. Otherwise I drag your wife up here and really show you what we’re capable of,” Dean says.
Terror mixes with every other emotion coursing through me. I truly don’t know if these men are capable of doing what they’re suggesting. Hurt a woman? For what? To get her husband to do something for them? Jesus. Christ.
“Leave… her, out of…it.” Tim’s voice now wobbles uncontrollably.
Thud.
Tim cries out in pain. “Ahh!”
“Last fucking chance.”
My hand lifts to my mouth. What are they going to do?
The door handle to the door I was told to stand by starts rattling. My head spins, my eyes widening in panic. Dean said the other doors were locked, but my head won’t stop turning. Fear that anyone could walk in here and see what’s going on behind closed doors starts running rife. Adrenaline seeps into my blood stream. My hands shake. My knees tremble. Fucking hell. This is ridiculous. I should run. Leave. Get help. Anything other than just standing still. I throw my head back against the wall with a little too much force, bracing myself as I begin to panic.
Why did he drag me in here? I could have been blissfully unaware, still outside with everyone else.
I hear someone putting a key in the lock, and at the same time, Travis swings into view, flinging open the door I shouldn’t be stood on the other side of. I jump, my eyes looking between him and the kitchen where someone’s going to come in at any second and catch him. I can’t find the words to tell him someone’s trying to get in. The words have gone. I swallow nervously, placing a hand on my heaving chest, trying to find some composure.
Fortunately, there’s another rattle of the handle, and I quickly look to Travis, hoping he now understands.
He does. He grabs my hand, pulling me into the room he stepped out from, quickly but gently closing the door behind him. He looks demented, lifting his finger to his mouth, telling me to be quiet as he listens.
I go to do the same, seeing Dean as I lean my ear towards the door. But it starts ringing, and I’m unable to listen. How can I? I’m looking, yet all I can see is destruction.
Violence.
Tim’s eyes are swollen, his nose clearly broken. Blood trails from the top of his head as saliva drips from his chin. Dean’s hand is covering his mouth whilst the other keeps Tim’s head tilted back. Why is this happening? Yes, Tim shouldn’t have been cheating on his wife, especially on their wedding day, but what the hell could he have done to piss these two off?
I look up, checking Dean’s expression. It’s twisted and blank. His screaming eyes are on me. It’s a sight I’m unlikely to forget.
I. Shouldn’t. Be. Here.
Closing my eyes, I count to ten, mentally trying to unsee what I just have. I see my nan. Think about my mum. My dad. The farm. I think about Janette. Mick. Blackjack. Then I take a breath. There’s a calmness washing over me. The unease drifting away, if only momentarily.
Then I realise, it’s because of the man standing next to me. It’s his smell. The warmth from his body. His breath hitting my face. The continuous drumming of my heart begins to steady. The walls that were closing in, seemingly move backwards as I regain some level of control.
When I open my eyes, Travis is watching me. He smiles, one side of his mouth rising an inch.
I try to return it. I really do. But Tim writhes in the chair Dean has him strapped to, and my head swings to look his way, seeing the destruction again.
Travis checks the coast is clear then steps toward Dean, his hand touching the small of my back trying to let me know I’m okay. To be honest, I’m grateful, but my eyes furrow and my body flinches unexpectedly.
It doesn’t go unnoticed. His face turns hard, his expression one of sheer contempt. I keep still, crossing my arms. Protecting myself. He can’t seriously be mad with me in this situation.
Dean and Travis exchange silent words before Travis stands with his back to me, his front directly in front of Tim. Widening his stance, his palms lay flat on his legs, and he bends at the knees, leaning forward. “Timothy. I really need you to know that this is the last thing I want to be doing right now. Believe me. But if you don’t do what we’re asking, we’re just going to come back. Again and again and again. Think you can handle that?”
Tim whimpers, sweat dripping from his head.
“No? Didn’t think so.”
He tries to wriggle, but Dean holds him still, immobilising him. “What have you got to say?”
When Dean removes his hand from Tim’s mouth, he gasps for air, swallowing harshly. “F…f… fuck… you.”
My stomach bottoms out. I flick a look to Dean, knowing I’m about to witness the evil currently residing in his eyes.
Travis grabs the meat cleaver I saw him pick up earlier, then pounds it into Tim’s thigh with an almighty swing of his arm.
The way Tim screams is enough to curdle my blood. The heavy, dull thuds of my heart hitting the back of my ribs makes my head spin as the air apparently gets sucked out of the room.
I feel as though I’m going to pass out.
Air. Water. I need both. Now.
Without thinking, I make a grab for the door, turning the handle and removing myself from the room. I can’t see Travis like this. Can’t stand it anymore. I don’t run, but I really think I should. This is all too fucking much.
The door opens again. Travis. Again. Probably making sure I’m still here.
Why am I?
He steps closer.
Right.
His face is scrunched, rage taking over .
“Why are you doing that to him?” I shock myself by asking. Do I really want to know?
Travis looks as shocked as I feel. “It’s none of your concern.”
My head rocks forward and backwards. “Don’t. Okay? We’re way past that now. Tell me why you’re beating that man like that? Do you even know who he is?”
Travis steps into my personal space. “We don’t care.”
I laugh to myself, not surprised.
“It’s what he does that we have a problem with.” His lips part but he stops himself from saying more.
I feel myself scowl but my curiosity gets the better of me. “What did he do? And don’t say it’s none of my concern.”
He contemplates it. I see his eyes bouncing, his jaw ticking. With a sigh, he rubs his hand over his face and beard. “He likes to try his luck with underage girls.”
I see his eyes become softer. His disgust, evident. “He what ?”
“Don’t make me say it again.”
I think. “But Dean? He said he’d go get Tim’s wife. Show him what he’s really capable of. Is he going to hurt her?”
He frowns, his face positively murderous. Then he double takes. Shit. He knows I listened. I watch as his mind whirls. “You ever considered that maybe he just said that to get a reaction?”
I hadn’t, actually.
There’s a bang, and his eyes jump to the door. I know he has to go back inside the room with Dean. He doesn’t need to tell me to stay put. I know this time.
But as I wait, trying my hardest not to listen, my head continues to spiral. He likes to try his luck with underage girls. That’s immediate dismissal and jail time. If he’s found guilty. So, they found out Tim’s been playing dirty, and now they’re blackmailing him. Worst thing they could try with a man like Tim. He’ll be protected by men who are ridiculously powerful. Who needn’t lift a finger to get what they want. Whatever else they have planned to try against him. It won’t work.
I sigh. I know exactly what I can do. But it really isn’t my place. But if it helps stop this madness and prevents Tim from being hurt further—even if he doesn’t necessarily deserve it, should I? Could I? The repercussions with Travis will be huge, but I want to get out of here, and this is how I do it.
I know I shouldn’t, but there’s no way I can just stay stood here and not help. I should run. But I won’t.
Pushing open the door, Travis looks like he could kill as I stand at the threshold. “Stop,” I tell Dean, just as he raises his hand. I don’t miss the knife he’s holding between his fingers. Shit. What the hell am I doing? Closing the door, I take a tentative step forward, realising I’m well and truly crossing a line.
“Get her the fuck out of here!” Dean shouts to Travis, who spins, locking his hollowed eyes on mine.
“Mollie,” he warns.
“Hear me out.” I hold up my hands, feeling unsure, but oddly confident given that Travis hasn’t already picked me up and physically removed me from the room. I have a shot here. A small one. But one, nonetheless. “He won’t give you what he wants. He’s too protected.”
Travis balks. “Who by?”
I take another small step, trying to ignore all the blood. “By the men out there. They cover up misdemeanours if they can gain from it. And there’s always something they can gain from it.”
Travis’ face turns down.
“Trust me. He won’t give you what you want. He’d rather let you kill him and take his dirty secrets with him.”
“His dirty secrets?” Dean hits Tim on the side of the head, sending his head flying forward.
I jump. Shocked.
“Men like him, Mollie, they don’t deserve to walk this earth.”
Tim stupidly sits straighter, spitting his mouthful of blood to the carpet. “You should listen to her.”
Another hit, this time from Travis, right on his jaw.
Tim laughs, and it doesn’t do him any favours. He’s gaining confidence from me being here. It’s misplaced.
“That may be true,” I say, looking at Dean. “But men like him only care about one thing.”
Dean cocks a brow, and Travis steps closer to me. “Mollie, get out of here.”
“No,” I challenge, refusing to look at him, ignoring his growl. “You have to take away the thing he’ll miss most. ”
I look down at Tim, and he angles his battered face to me. “What are you talking about?”
When I slowly lift my gaze to Travis, every part of me hopes he understands what I’m doing. “Do you have the picture? The evidence of his secrets?” I’m secretly begging he reads my expression. I don’t know if there’s a picture or any evidence, but right now, I need Tim to think there is.
“I have it.”
I take a breath, pulling out my phone, grateful he’s following. “Send it to me.”
Travis looks at Dean before he sends me a blank message, making my phone ping.
Tim’s head swivels. He’s worried.
Looking at the screen, I frown, pretending to look at an image of him. “You have to take away his power.”
“Bitch,” Tim splutters.
Travis wastes no time sending his fist through Tim’s face again.
“You don’t have that kind of pull,” Tim spits at me.
I laugh under my breath, knowing that I hate what I’m about to say. “No, I don’t. But I get the partner of Harrington Law to speak to the Chief Secretary of State, and there’ll be no investigation. No trial. I’ll show them this image and you’ll be disgraced and barred indefinitely.”
Tim squirms, but his gaze never leaves mine. “He’d never believe you.”
“I’m his daughter, Tim. Of course he would.”
Tim’s face drops. He doesn’t need to know I would never go to my dad for anything like this. It would have to be a pretty dire situation for me to have to go to him for help. “I suggest you give them what they want, or do I need to go out there and get him?”
He takes a beat. “Fuck,” Tim hisses.
Got him.
And I leave. Hating myself for helping. Hating that Travis knows I come from money. But mostly, hating myself for using my dad’s power when all I want to do is be away from it. Travis and Dean can stop. It’s over. That’s the main thing. No more violence or force needed. It’s done.
My feet move surprisingly fast considering the heels I’m in and the terrain. I bypass the dancefloor, seeing my mum dancing with people I don’t know. Then there’s Sarah who’s clearly told Henry what she’s done. They’re arguing. I want to make sure he’s okay, but I can’t stop. I need to get the hell out of here before I’m seen.
It’s only as I head towards my car do I take a pause, searching my clutch for my keys. I hadn’t thought about waiting around for Travis, but when I hear feet crunching the gravel, I know it’ll be him. I swing around, stopping when I see my dad.
Shit.
He stands, facing me. What the hell is he doing in here? “Leaving so soon, darling?” He clearly doesn’t want me to go.
My hands shake. I grab my keys, holding them up. “Not feeling too good.”
“Did you say goodbye to your mother?”
I shake my head mildly. “She was too busy. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
Lie.
My dad looks to the ground. “I wasn’t joking when I said if you came home with me tonight, we could forget everything. I can get you a job working for me.”
My head drops. “I don’t want that, Dad.”
“You don’t know what you want.”
“You seem so sure.”
“You’re my daughter. I know what’s best for you.”
A small, incredulous smile raises. “And what about what I want?” His expression doesn’t change. Deflating, I close my bag, curling my fingers around my keys. “Do you realise, you’ve never asked me what I want. I’ve always just done what you’ve said to make you happy. I’d like to think about me for a while.”
The sound of feet coming to a stop behind me makes me suck in a breath. His smell has me closing my eyes at his poor timing. A million questions suddenly swamp me. Is Dean with him? Where’s Tim?
“Aren’t you with the DJ?” my dad asks Travis.
He takes a step closer behind me. I don’t turn to him. I can’t look at him. I’m angry and sad and confused. The concoction of emotions is so fucking overwhelming. I also know that it doesn’t matter what I tell my dad, I know he’ll put two and two together and make ten when it comes to me.
“I’m finished for the evening.”
Translated, we need to leave.
“Dad— ”
“This is why you won’t come home? A boy?”
Travis moves to directly behind me.
I brace myself, praying to God he doesn’t try to get past me. No way I could stop him, but I don’t want him hurting my dad. After what I’ve just witnessed. I know he’s capable. I can feel his heavy breathing, the fast pace of his chest rising and falling. He wants to.
“I won’t be coming home because I don’t want to. It has nothing to do with anybody else except me.”
There’s a low grumble, but I ignore it, watching as my dad’s face drops before he turns and walks away. No words. No argument. It’s not anger, just pure, unbridled disappointment.
And it’s so much worse. An argument, I can fight back. But this? This hurts. It aches, deep within my chest.
I don’t turn around as a great wrench of sadness sweeps over me, sucking my energy with it. Hot tears begin to prickle my eyes. I tilt my head back, trying to keep them contained, not wanting Travis to see them. I hear him take a breath, so I turn, making my leave again , before he can say anything. There isn’t anything he can say that will make me feel better about this day, and I’m not in the mood to fight him anymore.
Making it to my car, I put the key in the door, turning it, only to see Dean appear, a light sheen of sweat coating his brow. I look at Travis. He’s the same. Both of them are looking at me. Watching. Waiting. I clock Dean looking over his shoulder towards the crowd.
It clicks what they’re waiting for. Furious, I get in my car, put the key in the ignition, then turn it as they both squeeze in in silence.
I am so fucking done with this night.
No one mutters a word. I’m pretty sure my poor car’s about to set on fire with the unspoken things bubbling up inside it. A few glances in my rear view show me Dean checking his phone. He looks up and sees me watching him, but I get no more than a narrowing of his eyes. I daren’t look to my left. Can’t. But I feel the tension seeping from him.
The stab of misery hurts so much. I don’t bother asking where I’m taking them. They’re going to the clubhouse, whether they want to or not. Considering neither of them challenge me when I pull up outside, leaving the engine running, keeping my face forward, I assume this is where they wanted to be.
Travis steps out, manoeuvring his seat for Dean to wedge himself out too. He gripes and grumbles. It’s not my fault they’re both tall and have muscles like bricks.
I wait for the door to close, but it doesn’t. Don’t look. Don’t look. The urge pulls deep, but I keep my stare forward.
Travis dips his frame into my peripherals. “Are you okay?” he asks. It’s gentle, considering how brutal I’ve seen him.
I don’t reply. Because I’m not okay. He knows it as much as I do.
Shocking me, he sighs, a somewhat condescending edge to it. “Fine.” He stands, but the door remains open. “We’re done then, Mollie. It’s for the best.” Then the door closes, and I’m left sat alone, my ears ringing, my heart trying to physically leave my chest.
I pull away making him step back, and I flick my eyes to watch him turn and immediately start walking inside. I change gear, but flinch, feeling betrayed. What’s that hurt in my gut that I’m feeling? I slam on the brakes, my fingers in a vice like grip on the wheel as he moves out of sight.
The engine ticks over, just like my thoughts. Fuck him. Fuck him for making me endure what I did, then tell me we’re done like I did something wrong. I haven’t done anything wrong. Not to him. Not my dad. Anyone. My entire life is just a constant state of upsetting people. I should be able to do what I want, when I want, no repercussions or questions asked. Is that too much to ask?
It’s for the best.
You’re my daughter, I know what’s best for you.
Fuck. Them. Both.
I turn off the ignition, grab my clutch from the passenger footwell and vehemently make my way to the door to the clubhouse, my temper reaching dizzying new heights as the fucking necklace around my neck bangs against my chest. The door opens with a thud, and I hear it close behind me as people stop, turning their heads to me. I don’t care that they’re looking, probably wondering why I’m dressed the way I am in a place like this. I only care about one person seeing me. And he’s standing by the bar, his back to me.
He knows I’m here. I see his shoulders tense, his back straightening. It’s like he’s bracing himself for me. Good. I feel murderous.