Page 34 of Jagger
I saw Molly glance sharply at me and I knew the time had come for me to tell her about Christy.
“So, at the bar the other night, I told you my mother had stopped by, but I didn’t tell you all of it. My mom isn’t like yours, Angel. We don’t have Sunday dinners together, or any of the things I’m betting your mom does for you. Christy and my dad split up for good when Rome and I were seven, but they’d been on and off for as long as I can remember before that. My mom got pregnant with us when they were only eighteen, right out of high school. They got married and had us when they were nineteen, and it was tough on them both. Dad had an easier time adjusting to it, but Christy was a different story. He tried to make it work, but Christy started drinking and partying, and she hasn’t really stopped since. After their divorce, she dropped us off with King one weekend like normal, then disappeared for six goddamned months. Her new man didn’t want to be saddled with somebody else’s kids, and she chose him over Rome and me. King got full custody, and she’s floated in and out of our lives since, sometimes alone and other times with whichever fucking shitbag she’s hooked up with at the time. She’s on probation right now, Molly, for DUI. Even coming into the bar the other night probably violated the terms, but she did it to hit me up for money for God knows what. I’m pretty sure she’s using again. Fuck knows how she’s getting around the piss tests they make her take.”
Molly squeezed my hand, then lifted it to kiss my knuckles. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I hate that you’ve had to go through that,” she said simply.
I glanced at her and nodded before looking at the road ahead, seeing the neighborhood that she had mentioned up ahead. I flipped on my turn signal and slowed down.
“You’ll need to direct me from here.”
Molly accepted the change of subject and directed me where to go. Moments later, we were pulling up to a nice two-story house, with Molly’s silver Honda Civic parked at the curb in front.
“I’ll follow you to make sure you get home OK,” I told her as I got out to open the door for her. Molly beat me to it and was rising from the passenger seat by the time I got around the front of the car.
“Angel, let me pretend I’m a gentleman, OK? Let me open the car door for you next time.”
She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I don’t think you have to do much pretending. You’re more of a gentleman than most men I’ve met. I’m actually going to stay and talk to Emma for a little bit, though. She’s dying for the scoop. She texted while you were with your friend Bull, and Brad had already filled her in on the whole‘you’re not a cheating scumbag after all’thing.”
I laughed at her description of that clusterfuck. “OK, but please let me know when you get home, so I know you’re safe.”
I caged her against the car and pressed into her for a minute as I gave her a kiss goodbye. I was tempted to keep her there for a few minutes longer, but I didn’t want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood.
“Bye, Angel. Drive safely.”
“You too, honey. I’ll text you in a little while.”
I got back in the car, lifting my hand to wave at the short redhead who stepped out on the front porch to greet Molly. The woman smiled widely and waved back, before grabbing Molly’s hand and dragging her inside.
I decided to head on home instead of going back to the clubhouse. As I pulled into my garage and parked next to my bike, I wondered what Molly would think of my place. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was a nice, three-bedroom ranch in a newer neighborhood. I walked inside and shrugged my cut off, hanging it on the hook in the mudroom-slash-laundry room, then slipped off my boots and set them by the door. I grabbed a beer and flopped down on the couch with a groan, before grabbing the remote and scrolling through the channels in search of something to watch. I settled for a movie that had a lot of car chases and bullets flying. It didn’t seem to have much of a plot to follow, which was just as well since I couldn’t keep my mind off my Angel.
I pulled up my phone and saw the text she’d sent me with her home address, so I plugged it into my map app to see where she lived. It was an apartment about ten minutes away, in an older apartment complex. The area wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t great either, so I sent a quick text to ask Bull to run the address to make sure there weren’t any police runs to any of the neighboring apartments.
For the next hour or so, I fielded texts from Lucky and Trick, who wanted to know if I was coming back to the clubhouse, and from King, who wanted me to know how much he liked Molly, along with a reminder not to fuck things up now that I’d found her. I was relieved at the return text from Bull, letting me know that the only police activity anywhere near her apartment in the last six months had been for a noise complaint, and another for a minor in possession of alcohol. Somewhat reassured that she wasn’t surrounded by drug dealers or violence, I returned my attention to the TV screen, just in time to roll my eyes at the improbability of the lead character walking through a hail of gunfire completely unscathed.
Not ten minutes later, Rome called, wanting the scoop on Molly. Lucky had apparently told him that I’d brought her to the clubhouse and‘fucked a hole into the wall with her’, based on the sounds he’d heard. Asshole. Abby was in the background, reminding Rome to tell me not to fuck things up. Shit! Nobody had any damned faith in me, apparently. I tried to ignore the twinge in my gut that told me they might be right.
“I’m not giving you any details about my private time with Molly, jackass. Things are going great, that’s all you need to know.”
“Fine, I get it, bro. You know damned well I wouldn’t tell you about Abby either. We really like her, you know.”
“Yeah, I do too.”
“So, good luck and don’t fuck it up. Talk to you later.”
He hung up before I could tell him to fuck all the way off. I was on my third beer and grumbling about my so-called friends and loved ones when Molly called. I damned near dropped the phone in my haste to answer the stupid thing.
“Hey, Angel, you home safe?” I greeted her.
“Yes, I just walked in the door a few minutes ago. Emma says hello, by the way. She was pissed that I didn’t introduce the two of you.”
“Maybe we can get together with her soon, have dinner or something,” I suggested, figuring dinner with friends was something couples did.
“That would be great, and maybe Brad can come, too. It would calm his nosy butt down.”
“Yeah, great,” I mumbled, rolling my eyes at the empty room. Dinner with Fuckface. The idea was enough to give me indigestion, but I’d do it. Make sure he got the goddamned point that Molly was mine in the process, too.
“It’s getting late, so I should probably get ready for bed, or I’ll be a zombie tomorrow, and that’s not a good idea with a room full of kindergartners. They can sense weakness you know.”
I laughed, remembering some of the shit we used to get up to in school. “Ethan doesn’t give you any trouble, does he?”
