Where's Molly(57)
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Molly
Present
September 4th, 2023
“Jesus fuck, you’re tall,” I breathe, my eyes rounding.
The man strides into my barn like he owns the place, and if he demanded it of me, I just might concede. Not only is he tall, but he’s also fucking scary-looking.
The contrast between his dark brown eye and light blue eye is startling. And the scar cutting through the left one—starting from just above his eyebrow and straight down to the middle of his cheek—only heightens the savage look he possesses.
No wonder he’s the head of the most prominent organization in the world.
Behind him walks in a considerably shorter woman, her long cinnamon brown hair fashioned into a loose braid over her shoulder.
I recognize her immediately. Not only as a famous author—whose books I fucking love—but the woman who was kidnapped and found herself in the clutches of Francesca, just as I was. When I heard Z found her, I nearly cried in relief that someone else had made it out of there, too.
She’s beautiful and has some of the prettiest light brown eyes I’ve ever seen. And definitely is fucking the big boss, if the way Z—or rather, Zade—looks at her like he’ll murder Cage and I in a heartbeat if we even so much as sneeze on her is any indication.
She’s glancing around the barn, her mouth agape as she takes in my setup.
“Oh, Sibby would love this,” she mutters to herself.
In response to my comment about Zade’s height, Cage turns to me with a what the fuck? look on his face. “Baby, he’s only, like, two inches taller than me.” He points a thumb to his chest. “I’m tall, too.”
I glance at Zade. “He’s… scarier.”
Cage’s eyes droop with exasperation while Zade shoots me a charming grin, stretching the scar on his face.
“I only hurt people who deserve it. Scout’s honor,” he assures.
The woman rolls her eyes. “He was never in Boy Scouts. And he’s scary, but I can kick his ass, and I’m nice.” She rushes forward, holding out her hand for me to shake. “I’m Addie. His fiancée. Thank you so much for having us.”
I shake her hand, appreciating that she has a firm grip. I never trust anyone who can’t give a proper handshake.
She squeezes my palm tighter, her eyes sparkling with awe. “You will never understand the impact you’ve had on my life, and I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long.”
I blink, bewildered.
“I found your old journal in Francesca’s house,” she explains. “The one you wrote in during your time there. It… Your words saved me in a way I can’t even express. They helped me get through the days there. I started writing in it after you. I still journal even now, all because of you.”
“Oh, my God,” I breathe, still in utter shock. “You found it? I honestly had forgotten all about it…”
“That journal saved my life, Molly. You saved my life, in a way.” She shows me her wrist, which is covered with a beautiful tattoo of roses trailing up her arm. “There used to be a barcode here, but I got it covered. It’s really small, but in one of the petals, I added your name. I carried you with me in that house, so I wanted it to be permanent, too.”
She points to one of the roses, and instantly, my hand covers my mouth, eyes welling with tears as I stare at the five small letters scribed expertly inside the petal.
When I was in that house, they hadn’t tattooed us, but I could only imagine the new precautions they started taking after I successfully escaped. I never imagined tagging them like fucking animals would be one, and it breaks my heart. But I also never imagined my journal would save someone else, and for that, I’m so fucking thankful.
Dropping my hand from my mouth, I lift my watery eyes to her, gazing at her with a little sorrow, and a lot of pride. “You did that, Addie. You got out.”
She gently grabs my hand and squeezes. “I did it with your help.”
Entirely speechless, she leaves me to process that, moving on to Cage.
The only thing that brings me back to reality is Zade’s sharp stare cutting to where their hands connect for point two seconds. He keeps quiet, but Jesus, he was definitely counting how long they touched for. I’d hate to find out what would happen to my boyfriend if it were a second too long.
I’d go down, though I’d sure as fuck go down fighting.
My brain is still lagging from Addie’s proclamation, so it takes me a moment to absorb Zade’s words.
“Scar buddies.”
Again, I blink. “Scar buddies?”
His finger flicks between our faces. “We both got dope scars. You know what that means? We should be friends.”
Again, I blink.
Zade grins at my bewilderment, and continues, “Legion tells me you’re a valuable asset. Murdering people happens to be my second favorite thing in the world, following my fiancée, of course. I’d feed your pigs really fucking well, and I have no problem doubling your salary to work with Z.”