Chapter Twenty-Nine
MOLLIE
M y eyes flick to Travis. They’re solely focused on the man sitting on the other side of his desk. I can’t say I blame him. The man they’re here to lock down as a buyer is being hard work for the sake of it.
It’s true what they say. People can change. Not everyone does. But when people hurt enough or have learned enough to want to, they’re capable of it. I know because when I look at the man I agreed to marry two days ago, he sees my pleading eyes and heeds my warning. Even as little as three months ago, he would have jumped across the table and had the man by the throat, threatening to kill him.
When he steps back, I’m grateful. I let go of the breath I was holding, steadying myself.
“Who am I doing business with then?” Terence Green looks between us all. “I mean, what kind of fucking business deal is this? A bring your girlfriend to work one?”
I daren’t look at Travis as Dean steps closer to him. “You’re doing business with The King. The only thing that changes for you, is the supplier.”
Terence smiles wickedly. “And the cost.”
“The cost remains the same,” Travis interjects.
Terence swings his head. “Oh, the giant finally speaks instead of growling in the corner.”
The look that smears across Dean’s face is murderous. “Be grateful he’s just growling. It’s his bite you ought to worry about.”
Terence’s top lip twitches. “And what about her?” He doesn’t look, but his finger flicks to me .
“She’s here to make sure you agree to our terms,” Dean replies.
The condescending look I’m given by Terence is one I’m all too familiar with. Because I have a vagina, he thinks he’s going to get what he wants. Unfortunately for him, I did my research when Travis gave me his information.
Top lawyer or not, Terence Green is in a lot of debt. Unlike Tim who liked to commit adultery with women who lie about their age, Terence is relatively squeaky clean. I’ll give him that. Finding dirt on him wasn’t easy. Nor was it something I enjoyed.
“And just how do you think she is going to help?”
“She has her ways,” Dean says, making Travis scowl.
Terence looks at me, his eyebrows hitting his hairline.
“I’m not a whore, Terence. I’m one of you.” Almost.
He looks confused. Disappointed, perhaps.
Leaning across the table, I reach out a hand. “Four-year integrated masters,” I say, stunning him.
He takes a breath. “You passed your SQE?”
I smile, not retracting my hand which he still hasn’t taken. “And the SQE2,” I say a little cockily.
He raises a brow. He shouldn’t be shocked. The Solicitors Qualifying Examination was easy. Standing from his chair, he takes my hand and shakes it now that I’m worthy. “That will be all, gentlemen. I can conclude business with…” He waits for my name.
“Mollie Harrington.”
Travis growls but fortunately, Terence misses it. “As in, Harrington Law , Harrington?” He’s excited now. He shouldn’t be.
“The very one.” I fake smile then look at Travis as Terence rounds his desk toward me. It’s all I need. He knows how much I hate being associated with the old me, but the subtle nod of his head tells me it’s okay. I’ve got this. He’s here.
Terence moves in front of me, simply looking at me. There’s silence, but I see Travis take a step closer behind him. I try my hardest not to look at the beast in his eyes that’s desperate to put some distance between me and Terence.
Terence gives a confused look over his shoulder when he realises Dean and Travis are still here. “We’re good, gentleman. ”
Travis’ chest pushes out. “So are we.” He says it low and direct, the soft vibration of his words making the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. They wouldn’t leave me alone in this room. Not a chance.
Terence looks back at me then shakes his head mildly. “Very well.”
“Please, sit back down.” I gesture towards the chair he vacated, making him retract.
“What is this?”
“This is business,” I tell him confidently.
Stroking his tie, he laughs, nervously sucking in air. “You’re going to bribe me?”
Good. He’s realising. “No, Terence. I’m going to warn you.”
“Warn me?” he mimics, shoving both hands to his pockets. He’s nervous, knows he has secrets to hide.
“Would you prefer to sit?” I ask confidently.
Looking at the bikers staring at him, he tries to save face. It’s gallant. “I’ll stand.”
“Very well.” Brushing my hands down the long pencil jumper I’m wearing; I reach into my bag and pull out a document detailing all of Terence’s unpaid debts.
His eyes meticulously scan over the numbers glaring back at him. “What the fuck is this?”
Denial. The first defence mechanism. “These, as I’m sure you are already aware, are the outstanding payments owed by you to financial creditors.”
He scoffs, snatching the paper from my hand.
“The ones highlighted in red are over the sum of one-hundred-thousand pounds. Yellow indicates payments of fifty-thousand pounds, and green is anything less than ten-thousand pounds. I’m sure you can agree there’s a lot of red on that paper.”
Terence’s jaw ticks. “Why are you showing me this?”
I stand a little straighter. “Because you are not in a position to be negotiating with anybody.” I let that sink in. He’s in debt up to his eyeballs. It’s no wonder he tried to use the switch from Nathan to The King as an excuse to try and do them out of money.
“Where did you get this?” He makes his way back to his chair, slumping his overweight body down.
My fingers twitch and I curse the little roll of my lips. “It was hard,” I admit. “But once I knew where to look, it was easy.”
Translated; once I knew who to ask, it was easy.
“I could have you barred for digging into this.”
I smile. “You could if I were actively working. I’m on a gap year.” I say it smugly, but it feels like I just dropped a lead balloon. The sudden realisation that I have to call my dad and have an actual conversation with him about not going back, hits me hard. I have to tell him I’m getting married. To an outlaw. He’s going to have bloody kittens.
With a slight shuffle of his feet, I’m brought back to the room. My problems will have to wait for a moment.
“So what, I’m supposed to just take your word that you’ll keep this quiet?” He knows if any of this comes out his career is over.
“Oh, I can do more than keep it quiet, Terence.”
He scrunches his eyes.
“I can make it all go away.”
He looks at Travis and Dean in turn, before settling back on me.
I reach into my bag, grabbing another file. I pass it to him over the desk, speaking as he opens it. “Notice the difference?”
He looks up at me. “There’s no red.”
There’s actually no colour at all on the page he’s looking at. “That’s correct. Your debts with the creditors have been settled.”
Anxious eyes sweep the paper once more. Then he looks at me, confused.
“It wasn’t me,” I nod my head to the bikers stood behind me, “it was the club.”
“What? Why?” His voice quivers.
I take a step closer to him, wanting to round this up and get the fuck out of here. “You owe the club now. They’ve knocked off ten-percent from what you owe. Consider that a discount, provided you place your first order with The King, today.”
“I don’t understand?”
My palms press flat on his desk. “You still want the drugs?” He doesn’t say anything, but the idea of not having them slices across his flummoxed features. “I’m not threatening your job or your status, but you now owe outlaws more than six-hundred grand. One missed payment, one more unnecessary power play on your behalf, and it’s all over. No more drugs. No more work. No nothing. ”
“What are you saying?”
Jesus. How many more times ? “You buy from The King now. No one else. You pay what you owe, and you continue to play the role of law-abiding citizen when in actual fact, you’re no better than the rest of them.”
Dean coughs in warning.
I blink, standing straight. My job here is done. I turn on my heels walking past them and out into the corridor.
Dean and Travis follow close behind me not long after, the sound of Terence’s office door closing behind them.
I keep walking with them behind me, making it outside, heading to their bikes parked around the corner. “I can see why you lose every argument,” Dean says under his breath as they walk side by side.
I roll my eyes to myself.
“She doesn’t win every argument,” Travis snaps, making me stop and look back at him.
They both jolt, but Dean grins, unlike Travis who’s frowning. “Don’t look at me like that,” he warns.
I walk to him, stopping toe to toe, my face looking up at his.
He looks at Dean before looking down at me. “When we get married, you have to love, honour and obey .”
Dean laughs but immediately stops. “Wait, what? Married? You two?”
Both of us slowly turn our heads to look at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Travis asks darkly.
Dean’s eyes widen, but he smiles. It looks good on him. “Uh, shit.” He lifts off his cap, scratches his head then steps closer. “It means I’m fucking happy for you, mate.” They shake hands before Dean bends and kisses my cheek. “And you, Mollie. I’m glad you’re happy here.”
I thank him but my smile falls.
“Unless you’re not?” he asks over an uncertain smile, looking at Travis like he’s said something wrong.
“Her dad,” Travis says, filling in the blank.
“God, I’m going to have to call him.”
Travis wraps his arms around me. “Hey, it’ll be fine.”
“Why don’t you invite him to the party?” Dean says cheerily.
I frown. “What party?”
“Oh, come on. This is Janette we’re talking about. She’ll insist on an engagement party.”
Travis’ head points to the heavens. “Fuck, he’s right.”
My lip pulls in the corner. “We can do something. There’s just no way my dad will agree.”
“To what? Coming along or you marrying him?” Dean thuds Travis’ arm, making us both flinch.
“Both,” I laugh, looking up at Travis. “But I don’t care.” If one look could make everything inside me settle, it would be the look in Travis’ eyes hearing me say that. It’s like the compass pointing north, telling me I’m heading in the right direction.
Finally.
He pulls me into him, kissing me passionately, our lips stroking and lapping together. I lose track of everything around me. The sound of traffic. The hustle and bustle of people walking past, it all drowns out.
“Not that standing here watching you two isn’t fun, but I’m going to head back.”
Travis and I smile, managing to break away from one another as Dean walks away.
“You did good in there.” He holds my head in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs.
My hands go to his waist. “I’m good at it.” No point denying the truth.
Travis’ face turns down a fraction, a flash of insecurity hitting him. “You would make a damn good lawyer. I can see why your dad wants you to get back to it.”
I shrug my shoulders. “That may be true. But it’s not what I want.” Just how I know Travis would make an amazing dad, but it isn’t something he wants either. So I accept that. No questions asked.
“You want me , baby?” He kisses me chastely.
“Always,” I smile.
“Then put those pretty arms around me.”
I do, swinging them over his shoulders with a smile.
He winks, dipping and picking me up into his arms before carrying me to his bike.
Three weeks later, I’ve finally plucked up the courage to call my dad. It’s ridiculous, but things at the farm have been so busy, I blinked and suddenly we were rolling into next month. My hand shakes. I hit dial. Hang up. Hit dial again and hang up.
Fuck. This shouldn’t be so hard. “Dad, I’m not coming back. I don’t want to be a lawyer. I’m getting married.” Urgh. I shake my head, looking at my reflection in the mirror. “Dad. Hi. I’m getting married…” No, can’t start with that. “Dad—”
“Problem?”
I spin around seeing Janette standing at my bedroom door. My shoulders deflated.
“Door was open,” she says sweetly, nodding her head back. I don’t mind her coming by unannounced. After all, she and Mick did gift us this place.
I look back at the mirror. “I don’t know what to say to him.”
She smiles, pushing off the door frame, coming closer to me. “Say what’s in here.” She points to her heart, looking at me.
I turn around, my eyes misting slightly. “I don’t think that will matter to him.”
She gives me a sad look. “No matter what he says , he’s your father. He’ll be happy for you.” Her eyebrows lift. “He may be shocked that you’re going to marry a biker, but it won’t mean he isn’t pleased for you.”
I laugh a little bit. She has no idea. “Thank you.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better,” I say, not entirely telling the truth. I walk to the kitchen, and Janette follows me. “Brew?”
I smile. “Please.” Watching her struggle to open the cupboard door is agonising. She won’t let me help, so I don’t bother to offer.
“You’re staring.”
“You’re struggling.”
The cupboard door eventually opens, and she reaches for a mug. Using her knuckles, she picks one up, only it crashes to the worktop, smashing into pieces. “Oh, blasted, shitting thing.”
I’m by her side in a flash. “Let me.”
“I don’t need your help,” she argues, flustering, her face flushed.
“Yes, you do.” I point to the chair at the breakfast bar. “Go. Sit.”
Janette reluctantly moves herself away and takes a seat.
Opening the cupboard under the sink, I grab the dustpan and brush and make light work of cleaning up. Once it’s done, I grab two mugs and fill the kettle. “There.”
She huffs, which sounds more like a sob.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to be so rude.”
Janette waves a hand dismissively. “No, you’re right. I need to stop trying to do everything.”
I place the teabags in the mugs, then walk to the fridge for the milk. “What have the doctors said?”
“They’ve given me opioids and suggested I start therapy sessions. Failing that, surgery is an option, but I don’t think I like the idea of it.”
“What do they do in surgery?” I pour the water in the mugs as I listen.
“Replace the damaged joints.”
“They can do that?”
“Apparently.” She shrugs. “But I’m probably too old for that now.”
I drop the teaspoon. “Shit, I almost forgot!” I step to her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders. “Happy birthday!”
“Thank you,” she says flatly.
“Oh, come on. Fifty-two is the new thirty.”
“Piss off,” she half laughs.
I pull back, pulling her gift from my back pocket. “Well, maybe this will cheer you up. Tah-dah!”
“Oh, Mollie. You didn’t have to.” She looks at the envelope.
I give her a look. “I wanted to.”
She smiles at me, her face beaming but she remains still.
I quickly realise why she’s not taking it from me. “Fuck,” I whisper, stepping closer. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just open the bloody thing so I can see what you’ve got.”
My lips curl up. “Actually, this was Travis’ idea.” My fingers begin opening it.
“Really?”
I hum my response, pausing when I catch her staring at me. “What?”
Her face is beaming again, her eyes lighting up like the sun. “I’m glad he found you.”
“Me too,” I say, the smile breaking on my face, actually hurting.
“I can tell you really love him.”
I carry on with my task, ripping back the paper. “He has the ability to drive me crazy,” I lift my shoulders, “but then I look in his eyes and my heart melts, you know?”
Janette gives a little nod. “I know.”
My fingers slip the card from the envelope, and I give her a little nudge with my elbow. “Anyway, Mrs, you are going…” I hold out the little card, letting her read it.
“Holiday? I’m going on holiday?” Her voice is squeaky and high. “Oh, Mollie! What?” She jumps up from the chair.
I smile wide. “Yep! Travis wanted you two to have a break.”
I’m dragged into the tightest hug I think she’s ever given me. And for the strangest of reasons, I cry. I don’t think she’s ever been on holiday.
When she pulls back, her eyes are glassy, my face now being squashed in her hands getting a good look at her. “Thank you.”
I laugh. She’s so happy. “You’re welcome.”
Once she settles and lets me go, I get back to making the teas, and she pulls out her phone, asking Siri to call Mick. She’s excited and lively when he answers. “The kids, they’ve done something crazy!” It’s lovely listening to her. “No. We’re going on holiday, Mick. I can’t believe it!”
Turning and leaning against the counter, her eyes are on me as she listens to him. I lift my mug to my lips, grimacing when I take a sip. It tastes like a sewer. Milk must be off.
“Yes, I know! We need to celebrate. This is our first holiday in years, Mick. Let’s take them out.” I return the smile she gives me. “Tonight!”
My eyes roll at her.
“Leave it with me.” She waits for him to hang up then steps closer to me. “Right, I’m going to go get ready.”
I look at the fake watch on my wrist. “It’s a little early, don’t you think?” I smile at her excitement.
“Well, I’m excited. I want to get ready with plenty of time.”
“You haven’t even had your tea,” I tell her.
In response, she uses her wrists to lift the mug to her mouth, taking a big swig without grimacing. “There.” She tilts her head with a satisfied grin. “Be ready for seven?”
“Okay.”
She kisses my cheek, and I dip to her, making it easier. “Oh, and call your dad.” She gives my arm a gentle squeeze in solidarity.
Shit. Right. “I will. ”
“It will be fine,” she tells me, seeing my face fall. Then she’s gone, practically bouncing out the door.
“I hope so,” I say to myself, staring it for a moment. Eventually, I head to the bedroom and pick up my phone from the bed. “Hi,” I say when he answers.
“Mollie.”
“How are you?” I ask, more out of politeness.
“I’m fine, darling.”
“Mum okay?”
He huffs. “Your mother’s fine. Missing you. We all are.”
You are? My heart accelerates. “Um,” I stutter. “I miss you too.”
“You don’t sound so sure.”
My eyes close. “I do miss you. I just—”
“Did you get everything you needed from the files I sent?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Does this mean you’ve started working elsewhere?”
“No, Dad. That was something personal.” Just outlaw business and drug deals .
His tone changes. “When are you coming home?”
Home. I already have one. And a fiancé. “I’m not.” My voice is colder than I mean it to be.
“Mollie—”
“Please, just listen to me.” I sigh, wiping the sweat from my head. “Say what you will, but I’m finally happy.”
“On a farm?”
“Yes.” More silence. “I have everything I want.”
“What about what you need ?”
He’s thinking about money. Security. “I have everything I need, Dad.” When he sighs, I have to swipe the tear under my eye. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”
“Who is he?” he throws in.
My lips stretch tensely, my eyes widen in disbelief. I’m grateful he can’t see my expression.
“You’re staying for that boy, aren’t you?”
It’s now or never. Taking a deep breath, I straighten my spine. “I’m staying for the man I’m going to marry. ”
I hear his heavy gasp. “B—but. Mollie, I…”
It’s like waiting for an impending explosion. An accident you can see coming. A train wreck you can’t look away from. Except, it doesn’t come. Not in the way I expect it to, anyway.
The line goes dead.