MOLLY
I had a problem.I was pointing a gun at a guy with green makeup on his face, and I kept thinking how he looked like that goblin guy from one of those superhero movies. A bubble of laughter was coming up in my sternum. I tried stopping it, I did, but once it was past my throat, it was hopeless.I bent over, my gun still in the air, and the laughter was kapoosh! Totally coming out of me.I winced, hearing a note of hysteria on the edge of it.“Molly!” That was my employee who was on the ground, his arms folded behind his head as he lay on his stomach, and I could hear how horrified he was.I raised my head back up, steadied my arm, and cleared my throat. “Let’s review the changes that just happened here. You”—I shook my gun, indicating the green guy—“came in here, to my bowling alley, to rob us. Correct?”He had a rifle aimed at me, and it was at this point I realized how crazy I really was.Like, seriously crazy.A rifle against my handgun. And I was laughing.I was verging on lunacy. A lunatic. Me.But he was wearing green makeup, so there could be an argument about who was the more irrational one in this situation.“You do this sort of thing often?”“Molly, my god.” That was from a different employee. “What are you doing?”We had a good situation here. Not the robbery, obviously, but what I’d built in this business. Easter Lanes. This was my place. My business. I was proud of what I’d done for the bowling alley when I took it over from my dad. He’d already run it into the ground, so I seized an opportunity when he was particularly vulnerable, and he was a lowlife street gambler, so those moments were fairly common. We were talking twice a month, but this time was when he was up a literal shit creek and he had no one to come and save him. So, me, being his daughter, well, I took a page from his book—I conned him. Meaning, he called me for bail money and he seemed extra frenzied to get out of there, which probably meant there was someone on the inside who wanted to give him some sort of beating.I told him I wouldn’t post his bail until he gave me the bowling alley. I was aware that some debts came with the business, but at that point in my life, I had nothing to lose. So I got the bowling alley, renovated what I could, and have continued renovating it over the years as profits got better. I paid off the bowling debts, but that was it. Anything to do with Easter Lanes was all mine. Added a whole pub part and gaming section so families could come here too.I made sure it appealed to all ages to maximize our customers.And it worked.This robber guy had no clue what he was threatening here. This was my life. My only life.This place was in my blood, and because of all of that, yeah, I went a little unhinged when I looked up and saw a rifle pointing at me.“What are you playing at, woman?! I told you to give me the money. Why are you waiting? Give me the money!”Oh, boy.Boys, girls, don’t try this at home.The register drawer was closed. The key was right next to it. I looked at my staff because they knew where the extra keys were, but . . . I could grab it, so quick. I could—I did something. That I was going to regret.“Molly!” from my one employee.And my second employee. “What did you do?!”My staff was shouting and gasping, but one scream drowned out the rest. The green-faced robber was shrieking at me, shaking his gun. “What did you do?! You crazy psycho bitch!”I swallowed the key to get into the register.That’s what I did.I was still holding my gun up, but it was shaking because my hand was shaking because my arm was shaking because I was shaking. My whole body was trembling, and I was tasting tears.Enough!Screw this. I’d not endured my whole tragic, sad story of a life to get it all taken away from me by this guy. “You come in here! Thinking you’re going to rob my place! This is mine. And I’m not going to take this. You know who my dad is?”I had temporarily stunned the green-faced robber, because he began backing up, slowly inching away from me. He’d forgotten he had the rifle in his hands, but he paused at my question. “Your dad?”I could see the realization start coming to him.His eyes were flickering, skirting, panicking, and he was beginning to remember that some businesses in our neighborhood were hooked in. I’m talking Mafia-style hooked in. I wasn’t above using some of that intimidation if it meant I wasn’t going to be arrested for homicide today.“Who’s your dad?” His voice rose, more shrill, and I could see the green face paint start to drip.“Shorty Easter. You know who he is?”His eyes jerked to the name of my bowling alley. I had it in neon letters above the bar. Easter Lanes. Anyone who was anyone knew that Marcus Easter, a.k.a. Shorty, was basically owned by the Walden family. He gambled at their establishments, but he also gambled for them. I knew his debt to them was so deep that he’d have to live nine lifetimes before paying anything back, but he had other uses, and I knew they used him for those. What they were, I never asked and never wanted to know, but I knew he did jobs for them.The robber backed all the way up until he hit the door. His rifle slumped down, and he almost dropped it to the ground. “Oh, shit.”It wasn’t my dad’s name that was causing this change of mind. It was who owned him. I never wanted to use their name, ever, but this was a life-and-death type of situation. A girl had to do what a girl had to do to not get ripped off.“The Waldens own my father. You coming in here, threatening his daughter, his business. That’s going to have some consequences for you.”His eyes were really bulging out now. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” He was plastered against the door, shaking his head. The desperation was edging in him because I was also feeling it, just in a different way. Easter Lanes was the only place I had that was me. Out of all my other homes, nothing stayed. Foster. Shelters. Nothing held.No one stuck, but this place did. I would not let someone take that away from me, and hear me roar because I was a mama lioness protecting my cub. I was desperate and a lunatic right now, but I didn’t care.He was going to leave. It was the only play he had left. Get out. Run. Get away as far and as fast as he could go. I was waiting for him to accept that choice, but suddenly he jerked away from the door. His rifle snapped back up.“If what you say is true, then I’m fucked! Fucked, lady. So I figure you owe me. You want me gone? I need money. If not, I’m dead anyways, and we both know it. You give me all your cash, and I’m gone. Yeah, yeah. I’ll go, but I need cash. What do you have?”He reached forward, trying to grab me, and I recoiled, feeling the switch happening.Oh, no.I blanked.Coming back, the sound of screaming was all around me, and there was red. Everything was dark red. My hand. My arm. I—“Oh, good god! Molly!”I felt a body rushing toward me and jerked around. They stopped, almost falling backward to halt their momentum. Their hands went up, and they were shaking. “Molly.”It was Pialto, my bartender.“Molly.” He dropped his voice, low and calm. Soothing. His hands lowered a little, and he took a step closer to me. “Move back, Molly. Back up. One step.”I started to step to the side, but my foot caught on something, and my gaze jerked downward.A foot was there.A leg.Blood.There was blood everywhere.Terror sliced through me.A body was there. Spread out.My other employee, Sophie, was on the right side of the body. She had a phone in her hand as she bent down and picked up the rifle. Her whole body was shaking too.Oh, no.What had happened? What had I done?“Is he . . . is he breathing?”“Molly.” Pialto was beside me now. I could feel him and hear him, and I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me. He touched my arm. The touch was off. Felt weird. I looked at him, for some reason wanting to tell him that, but I didn’t.A part of my brain was still working while the other part of my brain was turned off.I was numb while also half feeling at the same time. That didn’t make sense either. It was all very weird.I’d shot the green-faced robber.He’d reached for me. I’d panicked, and my finger had pulled the trigger.I hadn’t known what he was going to do, and I’d reacted.I’d done my thing again. My switch.It wasn’t the best name, but the best way to describe that sometimes, when I felt backed into a corner, I did things. I reacted or overreacted or irrationally reacted, and most times it made things worse. It was something I was working on, but I’d swallowed the register key. I’d shot a guy. Both big “switch” moments, and oh boy.I was officially freaking out.I. Shot. Someone!“She’s freaking.”Pialto was a genius. He was tuned in to my mind.“Oh, man.”I always liked Sophie.I’d miss her. I’d miss Pialto too. He’d have to manage the place for me. Or I could ask Jess. Yes. I’d ask another friend of mine. She had, well, she had some flexibility with her new work, or she’d know someone who could run it for me. Her man might help. But not my dad. He’d try to take over the bowling alley while I was in prison. I couldn’t let that happen. No. I needed to call—I reached for my phone. “Whoa! Hold right there. Stop! Don’t move, Molly!”That was Pialto yelling at me, but I heard Sophie gasp before she dove for cover.I looked up, still dazed, and saw both were staring at what was in my hand.I still had the gun in my hand.I started to drop it. “Don’t do that!” Pialto shouted.His hands were out, and he was half-crouched as he approached me. I didn’t know when he’d stepped back from me, but it might’ve been out of a sort of life-preservation instinct. I mean, at this point, chances were high I would accidentally shoot myself.“Molly.” His voice dropped again, low. “I need to take the gun from you.”I was nodding before he even finished. Yes. Yes, he did, before I did any more damage.I held it out and he took it, quickly unloading it before he backed away again. Sophie had removed the guy’s rifle so it was almost on the other side of the bar. That was good thinking on both their parts.I slumped down on the barstool behind me, staring at the unconscious man on the floor. God, I hoped that’s the reason he wasn’t moving.I heard the sirens a second later.The cops had arrived.ASHTONThe screaming started again.Three hours into this interrogation, and he hadn’t given up a name.“He doesn’t know.” Trace pushed up from where he’d been leaning against the wall and dropped his arms. He raked a hand over his head, frustration coming off him, but I understood it. I did. It’d been three months since the bodies had been pulled from the water. While Justin Worthing had been a good employee, we were here because of Justin’s woman. Kelly. She’d been best friends, roommates, coworkers, and everything to Trace’s woman, Jess.They’d been sisters.“How’s Jess handling everything?”I was guarded in my approach.Jess and I, we weren’t on friendly terms. We weren’t on any terms, and for a valid reason. I’d put her through a torture session, more psychological than physical, but it put a rift between Trace and me.He and I had been best friends all our lives, attending the same private high school, same undergrad college. When he moved west for graduate business school, I we
MOLLY“Okay.” Dr. Sandquist was rubbing the top of her nose where it flattened between her eyebrows, and she had her other arm wrapped around herself. Her elbow was resting on her own arm. She looked tired, but that could’ve been because it was four in the morning.I first met Nea Sandquist in a pottery class. I met a lot of friends in pottery classes. It was kinda my outlet. I liked to take an edible, put on my headphones, and get all spiritual with the clay. I felt a connection to the movie Ghost that I didn’t think was healthy.“You are in shock, Miss Easter.”“Molly,” I piped in, kinda hoping for an edible right now.She sighed. “Molly. You’re in shock, but it doesn’t look like you’ve been physically harmed. The key you swallowed should make its way out of you within a day or two.” She shared a look with Nurse Sloane, the head honcho of all the nurses at the hospital. “I’d like to introduce you to our social worker. He can help you go through the emotional aftereffects of what hap
ASHTONI should be exhausted from hospitals by now.My uncles. My grandfather. All had been gunned down three months ago, on that night. And I had been here, watching from a similar hallway as each of them flatlined. Over and fucking over again.And the blood. Everywhere.I had to give the hospital staff their due, because they’d tried to save each one of them, but Jesus. They came out one by one, all covered in blood, and that feeling right there, watching each of them and seeing how they didn’t want to look my way—I would never ever forget that feeling. It fucking haunted me, every morning, night, and day.I couldn’t get that out of me, no matter how I tried, no matter how I focused, how I obsessed, how I thirsted, but now. Now, I had a new mission, one just for me.Molly Easter.She was sleeping, curled on her side and the blanket tucked over her shoulder.I had mixed feelings concerning Miss Easter, and they stemmed from a day that no one, including Trace, knew about. But right no
MOLLYI did not recognize the sheets I was lying on, and I’m picky. I liked my warm sheets. These were cool and smooth but not silk. They were cotton, but like the most expensive form of pure cotton there was. Another odd thing about me. I knew my bedsheets. I’d worked in a bedding store one time, and I could outsell everyone except Marjorie Jones. Damn that Marjorie Jones. She also had a side business selling Tupperware that was killer. I didn’t like Tupperware, so I was cool with that, but the bedding crown was still a sore spot.I sat up and looked down.Total déjà vu moment, because I had on silk pajamas, and the room was the nicest room I’d ever been in. Where was I?I went to the bathroom and gulped at how nice it was.Or I tried, because I was fully focusing on where I was and not how I was feeling, because if I started thinking about how I was feeling, I’d not be getting out of that bed for another whole week.My whole body was stiff and in pain, and I felt like a walking blac
MOLLYIt never was with Ashton Walden.He’d come in flanked with his security guards, and then the other time at the nightclub when he’d yelled at me before having me whisked away. I wasn’t altogether sure what went down that night, but I’d felt zapped from him. He had pierced me inside, and that feeling never went away.I felt it again, all over again.“What am I doing here?” I asked again, cursing internally as my voice dipped. A slight tremor slipped out.Hearing it, Ashton stopped. His eyes flared slightly. “You and I have some things to discuss.”I was shaking my head as he went past me, heading through the library and to the kitchen. A shiver trailed down my spine at the same time. “No, I don’t. I want to go home.”I followed him, hugging myself in the opened doorway.He acted as if he hadn’t heard me, pressing a button. A deluxe coffee machine appeared, and he pressed another button. It began rumbling, and soon the smell of brewing coffee filled the space.God.My stomach did i
ASHTONThe blood drained from her face and her body jerked before she grabbed the counter to steady herself. “Wha—”Buzz! Buzz!I frowned, hearing my door buzzer. My men hadn’t called, and the concierge would never buzz anyone in if they weren’t important to me. Casting her another frown, I went over and pressed the intercom button. “Yes?”“I’m sorry for the interruption, but a Ms. Montell and Mr. West are here to see—”I cursed, then hit the speaker button. “Let them up.” As soon as I was done, I went to Molly and ignored how she jumped at my closeness. “You will keep this between us. Got it?”She frowned, bristling, and I could see the thoughts forming before she opened her mouth. She was going to fight me on this.“If you want even a shot at getting Easter Lanes to be yours and yours alone, you will follow my lead when Jess and Trace get here.” Her eyes lit up at my offer, and she nodded before cursing and smoothing a hand down her hair.“I look a mess.”She looked stunning. “You’r
MOLLYMy body was aching and stiff when I let myself into my apartment later that night. My head was pounding. I dropped the bag of clothes I had with me on the table, heading straight for some wine.God.My dad. My bowling alley.My staff.Even Jess.My life was a total conundrum, but one thing at a time, and right now, I needed my painkillers and oh crap. I had to nix the wine. Water would have to do, and after, I headed for the bathroom.My clothes were stripped off, and I stepped under the shower.God. Warmth. Ashton’s place had been warm. I wasn’t physically cold, but emotionally cold? Oh yes. So much yes. And just thinking about him, I felt a wave of panic sweep my body. But no. I couldn’t indulge in that. I needed to think clearly, needed to get through the next few weeks.I remembered my time at Ashton’s place.As soon as Jess and Trace had left, I’d whirled on him. “What did you do to Jess?” Because she was hurting, and Ashton had done something to make her hurt even more. I
MOLLYI was back in Easter Lanes Sunday afternoon going over what I’d missed from the day before, but one good thing: the key passed.Yep. I was now the weirdly reluctant owner of . . . you know.We had a copy of the key already, so we were using that one, and Pialto was coming in shortly, so I’d have him take it for a copy of the copy.Maybe I should have completely changed the locks on the register. But at this point, I didn’t trust even a locksmith coming in to do that job.The door opened, and assuming it was Pialto, I shouted out without lifting my head, “I’m thinking we should redo our whole system.”“Since I’m considering a more active ownership role of Easter Lanes, I think that would be a great idea.”Dread shot down my spine, and I looked up, seeing Ashton walking toward me, taking his very expensive-looking coat off and leaving it on a table as he moved closer to me. Man. Did he have to look as delicious as he did? I hated him, like despised him on a cellular level, but I c
“He has a point. You got shot four times.”“Six times, actually.” I touched the spots on my body like a prayer. “Drive-by shooting. It was apparently meant for him, but I stepped out of the house at the wrong time, and boom. They decided to settle for his daughter instead.”“That’s not supposed to happen,” Mona said, frowning. “We’re not supposed to be fair game.”“It’s not a game to them though, to guys like that. Those assholes don’t care if we’re innocent or not. They’ll hurt us if it gets them what they want.”“I’m sorry that happened to you.”I waved it away and stared out over the yard. I didn’t remember much from the aftermath, but I remembered it happening vividly: the black truck that pulled up, the guns that appeared in the windows, the way I screamed, the pain as it flared, the weird, almost calm knowledge that I was going to die. Then black, then waking up in the hospital, in pain, very, very angry, and all the rehabilitation, the surgery, the bullshit. It took months to g
Amber After that very strange, but surprisingly good night out at the bar, I did my best to hide from him for the next couple days. When we were sitting at the bar, our legs touching slightly, I felt it: that tingle down my spine, that buzz on my lips. We ate, he asked about me, made me laugh, and toward the end of the night, our fingers touched as we reached for the check, and I stared into his eyes, and I knew in that moment that if he’d kissed me, right then and there at the bar, I would’ve kissed him back. We walked back together, said goodnight, and I’ve been hiding from him ever since. I should hate him. I don’t understand what the heck would attract me to a guy like that. He robbed a man in front of me for fun. I hated that sort of thing, hated men that bragged about crime and thought it was exciting, hated that sort of macho arrogant crap most of all, and yet somehow, he was different. He didn’t seem to take himself too seriously, and he made jokes all the time, and of cou
I walked along the bar toward a large man up near the door. He was on the way to the restrooms, so I had a good excuse to pass him. I exaggerated my sway, just a little bit, making myself look drunker than I was. The guy had a goatee, a double chin, and a tiny sprout of hair at the top of his head. I noticed the Rolex first, then the way he leaned toward a much younger, much prettier girl and grinned at her with a creepy hunger in his eyes, and I’d watched him down three drinks since I’d started my first. He was rich, he was trying to impress a girl, and he was drunk, which made him ideal.It wasn’t a complicated maneuver. Amber stared at me, wild and ready to get up and chase me down, so I hurried a little bit. I turned the corner toward the restrooms and bumped into the guy, grunting as I did it loudly. My hand slipped into the pocket of the jacket he had hung on his chair— found nothing.“Shit, sorry,” I grunted, and slipped my hand into his pants pocket. It was tricky, but they we
“To our night out,” I said.She smiled, met my toast, and sipped her drink. “This place isn’t so bad.”“You got a lot of spots like this back home?”She shook her head. “I didn’t come to fancy places like this. I’m more of a dive bar girl myself.”“Funny, I’m the same way. South Philly is filled with little holes in the wall, bars that have been there for generations. Some real cheap, trashy places, but you can get good and drunk and see the boys from the neighborhood there, so it’s not so bad.”“Philly’s a weird place. It seems so small, you know?”“It’s old. Not built in an ideal spot. Didn’t sprawl out like the newer cities. Chicago’s kind of that way too.”“I guess that’s true. I like it though. It’s got character.”“That’s what I think. Philly’s got everything you could want, and it’s cheaper than most other cities, plus it’s a lot smaller, so you can get around way easier.”“If you’re trying to get me to move here permanently, I think I’m sold.”I laughed. “I’m not sure you’d wa
Ren At first, the job wasn’t so bad. I hung around that big house, watched TV when I felt like it, bothered Amber when I got bored, and kept out of Mona’s way as much as I could. Things were quiet for a while, but after a few days it started to get real old, real quick. Amber wasn’t happy. That got pretty obvious by the fiftieth time she told me to go fuck off. Not that I minded if she told me to go to hell, to be totally honest—I sort of liked that she pushed back against me. The girl had spirit, she was a goddamn handful, but I could tell something hung over her. I kept thinking about those fresh-looking scars on her body, so like the bullet wound scars I’d seen on countless other guys, and had a couple myself, but that made no sense. I couldn’t imagine what a girl like her would be doing with bullet scars. One night, Mona decided to head into the city. Amber watched her go like a sad puppy, and I knew she wanted to go with her, if only to escape the house for a little while. I l
I climbed out of the water, intensely away of his eyes on my body. He was a good-looking guy, muscular but trim, with light eyes and dark hair slicked back. His pouty lips would’ve made a younger version of myself swoon, but I was over all that, over and done with it. I felt self-conscious, though, and realized that some of my scars were visible— the two on my leg, and the one on my shoulder. I quickly walked to my towel and grabbed it, wrapping it around myself, but too late. I caught him looking with a thoughtful frown. “We should set up some ground rules, if we’re going to do this for real.” He looked at me and shrugged. “All right. You played along with me, so I’ll play along with you. Give and take, the bedrock of any healthy relationship.” I doubted he’d ever been in a healthy relationship, but I didn’t say that out loud. “When I’m swimming, you can’t sit there and watch me.” “Fair enough.” “And you can’t follow me around all the time.” “That’d make me a shitty bodyg
Amber Vincent hustled me out to his house in Mt. Airy the next day, accompanied by my hired goon babysitter. I ignored him. It wasn’t easy though. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, stubble on his face and chin, but he held himself with this strange grace that I couldn’t totally understand. He commanded a room, and I kept sneaking glances in his direction, and caught him looking back at me, seemingly unashamed at being caught. I didn’t know what his deal was, but it annoyed the hell out of me, and drove me wild at the same time. The Mt. Airy house was Vincent’s wife’s place, a nice, pretty girl named Mona. She met us out front in black pants and a white button-down shirt. She was a few years older than me, with dark hair cut short, and dark brown eyes. She smiled, hugged me, glanced at Ren, then held me by the shoulders. “You must be Amber. Vince told me all about you.” “Yeah?” I asked, smiling a little, trying to ignore the way Ren loomed behind me. “I hope it’s all good thin
“If you’re asking me to fight your war, I’m not interested.” He shook his head and held up his hands. “Something simpler, actually. There’s a girl that came to live with me, daughter of a capo in the Chicago family. She went through something recently, they’re having their own problems out there, and she was sent here to get away from the heat. Unfortunately, things are getting hot around here now, too.” I thought of the girl I’d seen with the long dark hair and the intense expression. She must’ve been twenty, maybe a little older. It must’ve been the same girl he was talking about. “Not sure what she would have to do with me.” “I need you to be her bodyguard.” I let that sink in for a second then burst out laughing. He stared at me, eyes hard and cold, and I knew this wasn’t a joke—but it had to be. I wasn’t a bodyguard. I was a thief, and the occasional thug. I had a reputation for myself, sure enough, but nobody entrusted a life in my hands—much less the life of a young, bea
When Vince came calling, I had to answer. The Leone family was the largest mafia in Philadelphia, and I was still an independent guy, working all my jobs alone. I was happiest that way, and didn’t want to get tangled up by the Leones, but their money was good and the job was simple: track down a couple goons and beat the ever-loving shit out of them. I brought Floyd along and offered to split the pay sixty-forty. He thought it was an even split, but shit, that’s on him for not asking. “Either way. I hope they got the message.” Vincent smiled and clapped me on the shoulder, the one with the knife wound, and I grimaced. He had the good manners to look a little embarrassed before turning to Floyd. “Thanks for the assistance. I’m sure Ren will have your money soon.” “When I get paid, he gets paid,” I said, nodding. “Very good.” Vincent squeezed my shoulder. “I actually have another job for you, if you’d be willing to talk?” I hesitated. I really didn’t want to get too involved. The Le