Tears well in my eyes, and I’m too overwhelmed with gratitude to thank him properly.
Eventually, I choke out, “Thank you. Even if I have no other family, at least I have you.”
His shoulders slump, though the conviction in his tone is strong. “You do, sweetheart. For anything.”
I smile softly, even if it’s hard to feel. But I am eternally grateful for him, especially since he’s the only person who’s ever been kind to me.
The bell chimes, and I glance at the newcomers walking in. Quickly, I do a double take, a frown marring my face .
It’s my dad, along with a man I don’t recognize. I’d have thought they were two strangers who walked in at the same time if it wasn’t for them being in the midst of a hushed conversation, their words halting when they finally catch sight of me.
My heart drops.
“What are you doing here? I’m getting your stuff…” I ask, trailing off with nervousness when I realize the other man is staring at me with an expression I can’t quite describe. It’s a look I don’t want to decipher, with how it immediately has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.
He's short and stocky, with trimmed hair and a square, pronounced jawline. His pale skin is covered in shitty tattoos, and there’s a cold gleam in his brown eyes.
Dad strides toward me, gesturing for me to move aside. “I’ll take that off your hands. You’re too young to be buying alcohol anyhow. Why don’t you go with my friend here and wait for me till I’m done?” he orders gruffly.
My mouth drops, bewildered and increasingly suspicious.
My dad has never come to take anything ‘off my hands’。 Which means there’s a reason he’s here, and that terrifying man has something to do with it.
Like hell I’m going anywhere with him.
“It’s fine, I got it—”
“Go,” he barks. “Now.”
My spine snaps straight. It isn’t the harshness in his voice that has me on edge, but rather, the urgency.
Dumbfounded, I look to Mario, and find him a lip curl away from all-out snarling at my dad. He’s glaring at the two men with distrust and wrath that burn hotter than the underworld beneath our feet. But what can he do? If he calls the police and accuses me of trying to buy beer just to get me away from them, I would still end up going home with Dad later, and Mario could get his license revoked if they find out he’s sold to me before. And if he claims Dad’s a threat to me, it’ll only separate me from Layla.
I could run… But where would I go? I couldn't leave my four-month-old sister alone, nor did I have anywhere safe to take her.
My mind is spinning over different scenarios, but each time, I come to the same conclusion. I'm helpless.
“I’ve actually been needing some help around this place. Why doesn't she stay here with me, and I’ll pay—”
“You got eyes for my daughter or somethin’， buddy? Why don’t you mind your own goddamn business, huh?” Dad snaps, glaring at Mario.
“It’s fine,” I whisper, glancing at the strange man nervously. He’s still staring at me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. Whoever he is, he’s the reaper, and wherever he takes me, I won’t be going anywhere but down.
“Go with him, Molly. I’m not gonna tell you again,” Dad barks.
Working to swallow, I hesitantly step away from the counter. Sparing Mario one last glance, I tuck my chin down and walk toward the man, adrenaline releasing into my veins with an intensity I’ve never felt before. My pulse is thundering in my ears, and I’m beginning to feel nauseous.
A wicked smile curls one side of the stranger's lips, and my stomach fills with acid, bile teasing the bottom of my throat.
“Your dad and I are good friends, don’t worry,” he assures, grinning wider as if that’s supposed to ease my nerves .
It feels as if there is glue on the bottom of my feet, making each step difficult as we head toward the door.
I can't do this. I can't just let this man take me so easily. Wherever I'm going, I won't go without a fight.
I'll take Layla and find somewhere for us to go. Because wherever that is, it has to be better than where we are now. Even if I’m a fucking fugitive wanted for kidnapping, I’ll find a way for us to survive.
Just as the man opens the door, the bell chiming, I take off down the aisle to my right.
“Hey!” Dad shouts, prompting his friend to whip around. He wastes no time charging after me, causing my heart to jump in my throat.