None of this has anything to do with Legion. Not really. He may employ her, but who she was before isn't of much concern to him. The only thing he does make his business is who his employees are now.
“I didn’t know I was required to,” he counters dryly.
I growl beneath my breath. “Why did she?”
He sighs. “If I recall, she has a sister who was given up for adoption before she left. I assume her reasons for returning to Montana may have something to do with that,” Legion says.
I exhale slowly. I only had one night with her. And admittedly, we didn't do too much talking. Although I did know from the news reports after she went missing that she had a much younger sister. Layla, I think her name was .
So, if Molly's willing to return to the one place that caused her so much distress, then it can only be for someone as important as Layla.
“Do you know where her sister is now?”
“Yes,” he answers shortly.
I wait, but he doesn't elaborate.
“Legion,” I growl, my patience waning.
“Do I need to be concerned about what you will do with said knowledge?”
“No.”
He's silent for a beat, but I know I've won when I hear his exasperated exhale.
“She's fifteen years old now, and lives with a nice, wealthy family. And that is not to be messed with, Cage.”
I'd happily fucking kidnap her if that's what Molly asked, but I keep that to myself. Obviously, Legion would find that concerning.
“We're clear,” I clip. “Thanks, man. I'll report when the delivery is complete.”
I toss my phone to the passenger seat, releasing another heavy exhale. There's an undeniable burning desire to know everything about Molly. Why was Layla given up for adoption? And did Molly return, because she wants her sister back? Or to be around for when she turns eighteen?
The obsession is familiar.
It's similar to what I felt when she was first kidnapped. The intrigue of her disappearance and what happened to her—I was incredibly transfixed by her case.
The girl who not only vanished out of thin air but seemed to lose her mind beforehand.
The footage showed her walking into the gas station, and five minutes later, she was running from something that the security cameras couldn’t see. Throwing things on the floor, clearly in distress, while absolutely destroying the place. And then seeming to calm, as if someone had forced her to.
What was more disturbing was that the cameras didn’t see her leave the gas station. Same with the ones outside the back exit—that door never opened, and she was never seen walking out.
At 9:02 PM, she waved goodbye to the man behind the counter, walked out of shot toward the back door, and that was the last the world saw of Molly.
It was riveting, and I was fascinated.
But this obsession that I feel now is still not the same. No—it's exactly what I felt when I met her. Had her.
The girl with haunted eyes and a perpetual frown, who carried a sadness so deep that it permanently altered the shape of her lips.
I spent the night tracing my tongue along her Cupid's bow until I remolded her mouth to fit against mine. Because as long as I was inside her, her sadness would be powerless to my obsession. And there would be no part of her that wasn't made precisely for me.
I pull up to her farm, seeing the glow emanating from the same lone window in her house. It's been a week since I last saw her, and I’ve been talking myself down from showing up at her house uninvited again.
I wonder if that light is shining from her bedroom. Now, I can't look away without first imagining the silhouette of her naked body shadowed behind the glass. The curve of her pert breasts, just big enough to fill my hands, and those dusty pink nipples I could barely pull my mouth away from that night. The swell of her plump ass, before curving into those creamy thighs.
Fuck.
My cock is straining painfully against my zipper, and I'm tempted to unzip and stroke myself to the fantasy. It's not nearly as graphic as it could be, but part of me doesn't want to guess what her matured body looks like now. Mainly because I've already convinced myself I'll find out soon enough, and I want to take her in without any preconceived notions.
It may be the only good thing about not seeing her for almost a decade. I'll get to experience her for the first time all over again.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my pack of nicotine gum and pop one in my mouth, needing the buzz to relax my nerves. Then, I get out of the car just as she emerges from the depths of the barn.
She gazes at me cautiously, her stare sliding down my form, then back up again.