Chapter 21
Molly
“Orders up,” I say as I ding the bell and place the stack of homemade tortillas onto the pass before going back to my counter to plate up the homemade beef patties.
It’s hot, and the diner is completely full for the lunchtime rush yet despite the chaos, I’ve never felt more at peace, never felt happier.
This is where I belong—not in college studying social work. Yes, I want to help kids like me find better homes, maybe even build an organization someday, but cooking is my true passion, my safe place.
Cooking is who I am, and I can’t help resenting my dad for the stipulations in his will—making her my guardian, forcing me to grow up too fast, struggling to stay afloat while his wife and stepdaughter took advantage.
Surely, he saw how nasty she was in the eight years they were married?
Surely, he wasn’t that blind?
I shake my head, quickly grab some cheese and onions, and build the patty.
Next, I snatch the fry cage from the fat, give it a shake, and balance it to let the fries drip dry for a few minutes then scoop the cooked corn onto the plate.
The premade salad bowl comes next, I pour it onto the next plate, adding croutons and beetroot, which I shudder at.
I cannot stand beetroot.
I grab the fry basket and tip it into the stainless-steel bowl before grabbing my own seasoning blend, which took me seven years to perfect, and toss the fries, adding a little bit of oil.
I’ve only got about three and a half months until I graduate from college because apparently, they had to extend the graduation date, something about a few teachers doctoring grades and some students have to retake the tests.
Then, finally, I can get into culinary school.
If I want to go down the route of helping kids, my degree is there waiting for me and if I can get there, I’ll have the best of both worlds—a small part of me believes I will, once I see where life leads.
After a few years of cooking, and when I decide what to do about my parents’ home maybe I’ll know more then.
Since I’ve stopped having to fight Abby and Ruth, I realized that the place feels hollow, not homey anymore, even after the club removed all traces of Ruth and Abby.
It’s like after standing still, I’ve noticed they both ruined the image that I had.
They ruined the place my parents bought together, and my dad ruined my mom’s memory, the only thing I had of her, by bringing that nasty woman in to begin with.
It isn’t my home anymore, no, the one-bedroom house Luca lives in feels like my home.
It is the home I have stayed in for the past eleven weeks, which is just the right size for the two of us, and that thought is terrifying, especially when I don’t think he’ll want to stay with me, that we won’t last.. .
My body hums with how content I feel in the kitchen, while my mind reverts to Luca, as it has for the past five months I’ve known him.
We’ve been together for nearly three of those five months, and it’s been like a dream. But now, I’m scared—we have so many trust issues, on both sides, that I worry we won’t make it. I feel our doubts might cloud our judgment and push us apart.
He texts and calls all day, which eases my fear—until that waitress brings it roaring back every single time.
“Hey Molly,” AJ says as she comes to the pass, and I silently groan.
Think of the devil, and she shall appear.
“Hmm?” I answer as I grab both plates and take them to her, and she asks, “Is Ace coming in today?”
I raise a brow to hide my jealousy as I hand the plates to her and say, “Table four,” before I ask, “and how would I know?” as I grab another ticket.
Do not snap, do not snap… I repeat the mantra, but somehow I don’t think it will work.
The woman rubs me up the wrong way, mostly because she wants Luca and makes sure the whole diner knows it every day.
“Well, don’t you have a performance review coming up?” she asks with a huff, clearly not liking my answer, and I shrug as I go to the counter, taking a deep breath.
“He had to cancel because of club business,” is all I say, even though I know he canceled because Dirty needed him, but she doesn’t need to know that now, does she?
She disappears, and I sigh with relief as I get to the next ticket, but my relief is short-lived when she returns and leans into the pass instead of refilling customers' drinks with Blue, who has actually been nice to me, which is something, I guess.
“Well, when will he be in then?” she asks, and again I shrug because I’m not really sure, and she groans.
“I haven’t seen the fine piece of man in days, and I need my fix,” she complains, “Now that Harriet is no longer around, I should get his sole attention, especially when he hasn’t looked at another woman.
He is mine, I’ve made it perfectly clear.
I just need him to get his tight ass here so I can finally make him mine. ”
So about not snapping at her…
“AJ, I’m trying to perfect the sauce. Is there something you need?” I snap as I add a little bit more vinegar to my Caesar sauce, and she huffs before storming away, and I roll my eyes.
Every day I endure her obsession with Luca—how Harriet bragged about his pierced cock, how good it felt. The more she goes on, the more my insecurities grow.
It makes me question whether I should be with Luca at all, stirring that old, persistent belief that I’m not marriage material and as AJ’s comments echo in my mind, my confidence wavers, and sadness mixes with growing doubt.
How can I be a good wife after watching Ruth? When I promised I’d never settle and just survive?
The answer is I can’t, yet the thought of not having Luca in my life—whether it’s pranking him or just meeting his eyes—causes a physical ache, shifting me from amusement to pain all at once.
It doesn’t help that no one knows about us, that AJ thinks he’s available, and my insecurities coil inside, making the voice in my head shout that I wouldn't make a good wife.
I understand his reasons, really, but I just don’t know.
I shake my head and create the chicken and bacon Caesar salad before going to the stove and getting lost in my cooking, the one thing keeping me sane, hoping and praying I don’t let my fears lose me the one person I’ve fallen for.
***
I groan as I stretch my back before grabbing the trash bag and walking toward the back door. The calmness I feel after a full day of cooking clashes with the ache in my lower back, even as a niggle at the back of my mind stirs my insecurities.
Luca has been gone all day without texting me several times for the first time since began our relationship. I’ve tried to ignore the niggling feeling in my gut that he’s done with me, but it isn’t like I haven’t tried to call him, because I have, and I got no answer.
Plus, AJ’s continuous rants about not seeing her man have plagued my thoughts every time she came to the pass and bitched because he hasn’t come to work.
No quick sightseeing, no text, no call...
Shaking my head, I quickly throw the trash in the dumpster in the alley and turn to head back inside to clean the kitchen before I try Luca again, not allowing my fears to consume me just yet, but I gasp as a hand grips my arm and forces me to twist around.
I scowl as I come face-to-face with a very pissed off Rylan who I haven’t seen since I quit the bar.
His bright hazel eyes look at me with darkness and anger, and I swallow hard at the look I’ve never received before.
I’m the only one here, everyone else has left, AJ an hour before her shift even ended, upset because Luca never showed…
Crap.
“You’re hard to get alone, Molly,” he grunts as he drags me towards the wall, and I try to pry my arm out of his bruising grip, only for his grip to tighten, making me wince in pain.
I snap, “Let go of my arm, Ry, you’re hurting me,” and he sneers as he gets into my face, shocking me with his anger.
Okay, so I think he may have lost his mind.
“I have waited years, fucking years, to gain your attention, and every time I made a pass at you, you’ve always told me you were closed off, and yet here you are, shacking up with a fucking biker!” he grits, and I swallow hard, trying to get my bearings.
Nope, no may about it, the man is unhinged.
“You’ve been screwing Gabby for months,” I remind him, “and you slept with Abby, you didn’t want me, you wanted the chase.”
“And? Your biker slept with Abby, and you knew I was just playing around until you finally gave me the fucking chance I deserved,” he unhelpfully reminds me in return, and I grit my teeth.
Asshole, chance he deserved my fricking butt!
Not once did I give him the go-ahead, not once did I even give him a flirty smile. The man has made crap up in his head.
“Let go of me now, Rylan,” I demand and try to yank my arm back again, fed up with the consent crap lately.
Ruth and Abby have been trying their hardest to cause trouble ever since they got escorted out by cops. They’ve tried to intimidate me into letting them back in the house and demanded I forget the payment they owe.
Heck, Abby even smashed three windows two days ago and got herself arrested and has been held in custody ever since. Don’t get me started on Gabby, who clearly doesn’t like that the one guy she screws and the other guy she wants only wants me.
She got in my face last week at college, something Luca isn’t aware of.
“I need to have a word with you,” Gabby says as I walk out of class and suddenly in my face, making me jump as I gasp in shock.
What the hell?
“You want to back up a little bit so everyone can get out of class?” I snap back, my heart pounding at her sudden intrusion.
I didn’t even see her standing there, and if she hadn’t spoken, I would have walked right into the silly woman.
Glaring at me, she steps aside, and I roll my eyes as I walk past her, the people behind me all piling out of the room, glaring at Gabby as they do, and instead of stepping beside her, I continue my path towards the door.
I have things to do, so I’m not waiting for her. If she wants to talk, then she can fricking follow because I know what she’s after.
My boyfriend.
“Molly!” she shouts just before her hand grips around my arm, and I stop and eye it.
“If you want to keep your face less bloody, then I suggest you remove your grip,” I threaten, and she quickly lets go before she gets in my face and demands, “Stay the hell away from my man!”
I smirk, “Now I know by your man you better be talking about Rylan and not my boyfriend, who I’m basically living with, Gabby.”
Her jaw works, and she snaps, “Ace is mine, I saw him first.”
“Actually, I did when I got shoved into his bike five months ago, wrecking it,” I state, and her mouth slackens, but I’m not done.
I step towards her, making her eyes look left and right, clearly not expecting me to put up a fight, and I sneer, “I have had enough of your bullshit. Just because Rylan is only screwing you to try to make me jealous doesn’t mean it is my fault.
I have never indicated I wanted him, I have never even touched his arm, let alone locked eyes with him for longer than a few seconds.
This whole woe-is-me shit you’ve got going is getting old.
Luca and I are together, Luca is mine, not yours, so deal with it and stop acting like a little toddler who lost her favorite fucking toy! ”
She blinks, then blinks again, but I ignore her and go to the door, knowing Luca will be waiting for me, as he normally is, and hopefully he doesn’t see how tense I am.
Damn Gabby and her jealous tendencies.
Everything is just too much, and I’m fed up with this crap, especially when Gabby continues her pathetic little daggers whenever she sees me.
Growling with frustration when the jackass doesn’t let go, I bring my knee up and hit him where it hurts, making him grunt and groan, his grip loosening, giving me the perfect opportunity.
I pull my arm out of his grip and shove him away, making him stumble as he bends, coughing, and I quickly move towards the door to the diner just as bike rumbles echo.
I manage to just touch the door handle when I’m pulled back by my hair and I grunt in pain as I’m shoved against the wall before slimy lips slam against mine and I fight against Rylan, trying to shove him away just as I hear, “What the fuck?” and Rylan pulls back with a smirk like he’s just won the lottery and not like his life isn’t now on the line for touching me.
What an idiot.
Surely he knows how the MC works, right?
“Want to tell me what the fuck I’ve just walked in on?” Luca demands lowly, and my heart pounds at the anger, and my insecurities, the ones that have climbed higher and higher throughout the day, begin to build yet again.
Surely he wouldn’t put two and two together and make twenty like his brothers had with their women?
Right?