Where's Molly(38)

“Alaska.” The answer seems to burst from her throat, as if it's been imprisoned behind her teeth.

I raise a brow in surprise. Most people try to go to the beach, where it's warm and makes them feel like they've escaped to a tropical island. I could send people to places like that, but most can't afford that hefty fee.

Ultimately, they go where I send them, though I do try to find somewhere they're happy with. Especially if they deserve that peace.

“You like the cold?”

She shrugs, and it seems as if she’s battling with her next words.

“If I'm out in the wilderness, just me and the wolves, no one will find me. No one will recognize me. I've disappeared once. This time, I want it to be for good.”

My tongue forms the words to ask what happened to her that day. Who was chasing her? Did they put that haunted look in her eyes? How did she escape? And what is driving her to stay hidden from the world?

“It's going to take my team a good twenty-four hours to obtain everything,” I tell her.

Her fingers tap on the counter, and she chews on her lip nervously.

“Does this happen to come with accommodations before I leave?” she questions, her cheeks beginning to flush red with embarrassment. “I, uhm, I don't really have anywhere to go while I wait.”

Legion will cover all her expenses, including food and necessities. If she has that black card, she might as well have his credit card.

But I don’t tell her that part. Not yet, at least.

“Sure,” I say. “We’ll help get you set up in a hotel. Legion will cover you.”

Her shoulders fall in relief, but mine tighten.

It's a feeling I can't name. One that probably has some fucking obscure word to describe it. But knowing this may be the last time I see her before she leaves doesn't settle right with me. In fact, it makes me downright desperate to ensure it's notmy last moment with her.

Not because of who she is and what happened to her. But because, for some indescribable reason, she feels like mine.

“Give me a second to get some things sorted. Stay put, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she croaks, casting another glance around.

She's uncomfortable, and I decide immediately that I really fucking hate that.

It's not easy pulling my gaze away from her, but I force myself to turn and head into the back. Silas is standing in front of a stack of boxed TVs, a clipboard in his hand as he sorts through inventory.

“Go out front and keep an eye on her? Make sure she's not recognized. I'll only be a minute.”

“You got it,” he chirps, before setting down his clipboard and heading out to the front.

I wait a few minutes, ensuring he isn't around, then I pull out my phone and get to work. Within a minute, I'm calling the first hotel.

“Thank you for calling the Milton Hotels. How may I help you?” a woman greets, her voice high-pitched.

“I'd like to book every available room for the night.”

There's a pause. “I-I'm sorry, you said all available rooms?”

“Yes, please. Every single room. Until you're fully booked and don't have a single fucking one to spare.”

“Uhm, okay. Sure.”

Once that's done, I proceed to call every hotel within a thirty-mile radius and book them out, too.





Molly





Nine Years Ago

2013


“Do you have a computer I can use to find a hotel?” I ask, tapping my fingers against the counter nervously. Cage just returned from the back, and anxiety is gnawing at my stomach.

This entire situation is so far out of my depth, and I feel a little sick if I analyze it too deeply.

So easily, I could be walking into another wolf's den. I'm not sure if escaping human trafficking has made me cautious or reckless at this point. Everything I do feels like my life is on the line, and I'm not sure if I'll live long enough to know peace.

“Silas will book the room for you and get it taken care of,” Cage offers.

His employee doesn't waste another second and pulls out his phone, googling nearby hotels.

“Right. Thanks,” I mumble .

“Do you need anything in the meantime? Water? Food?”

I blink. Food has been more of a luxury than a necessity, and I've gotten good at ignoring the hunger pangs. For as long as I can remember, it’s always been a fight to fuel my body. And I don't know if I've ever been offered food and water in all my twenty-five years of life.

“Uh, I guess water would be nice,” I say, my cheeks burning.

“Sure, thanks,” Silas mutters on the phone before hanging up, his brow pinched. “That’s the second hotel I’ve called that is completely booked.”

Cage glances at him. “Keep trying. I’m sure there’s at least one that has an available room.” Then, his stare returns to mine. “It’s about dinnertime for us anyway. We’re open for another hour, and I suppose it’s not smart to take you out in public, so I can order a pizza if you’d like?”

My lips part, but I have no words. I’m not sure why, but it’s embarrassing that he wants to feed me. I know I’m malnourished—but I guess I don’t like that it’s so obvious.