Chapter Fifty-One
Molly had wasted no time. She dressed in a matter of moments, removing her collar, and found herself at the door, grasping the small key Connor had told her to lock herself in with. She’d made a promise to him that she’d do so, and that she’d stay in his room and wait, but even as those words had passed her lips, Molly had known they were lies. She had no intention of obeying him on that point, and she never had. Connor was planning something awful, and no doubt stupid, as a means to gain absolution. She didn’t need for him to tell her the details, she just knew. She knew in her heart and in her belly that if she didn’t do something to stop him now, then nobody else would.
She was still coming to terms with The Syndicate. The notion was still scratchy in her head. While everyone she had met so far had seemed normal enough, and kind even, Molly’s instincts were unsurprisingly unsure about a group of people who swore undying loyalty to one another. They’d helped Connor get away with murder for God’s sake, disposing of the body and covering his tracks for years. And then, when he was finally taken into custody for abducting her, they’d broken him out. The Syndicate offered near impunity, and a system which protected its own, not just for money, but for devotion.
Just like you, the little voice in her head quipped. Just like you did with Connor. Protecting him from the law. Even when they already had him in jail, you still didn’t tell those detectives what you knew. Even after he’d taken you, tortured you, still, you protected him. Why?
Molly gulped at the accusations, her heart pounding as she rested her head against the sleek wood of Connor’s door. She knew why alright, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. Not here, on her own, in the shadows of his room.
Why? The voice demanded. Why did you reach out and contact him again, after everything he’d put you through? Why did you leave your home, your family, and fly here to meet him? Why, Molly? Why are you as fucked up as he is, as they all are? Demonstrating your allegiance to a man who offered to hurt you, and who promised you nothing? Why?
“Because, I love him!” The tears were falling hard and fast as she rasped the answer into the door frame, the edges of her mind fraying as she finally conceded the truth aloud. “Because I am devoted to the man. He makes me feel alive, and I need that. I need him.”
Squeezing her eyes closed, she panted into the wood. The voice was quiet at last. In its place crept the dread she had known before, the sensation which told her Connor was in danger, and urged her to break her promise and go. Molly wiped the tears from her face as she pulled the key from the lock. It was time to find him, and save her man from whatever self-imposed torture he’d agreed to participate in.
She slipped into the corridor, finding it thankfully empty, and quickly she locked the door to his room. Depositing the key in the small pocket of her pants, she crept down the hallway. Of course, there was no reason for Molly to be hiding. No one besides Connor knew about the promise she’d made to remain in the room, but still, she couldn’t help it. Breaking an oath to Connor was significant, and she tried not to think about the likely consequences when he found out. Right now, she had to concentrate on finding him before it was too late, and as she skipped lightly down the hall, that’s what Molly focused on.
Finding the elevator, she called it to her floor, and waited. Molly wasn’t sure what was pounding louder, her heart or her head, and she inhaled deeply as the doors slid open, willing herself some damn composure. The elevator revealed two young women, both wearing tiny dresses and too much make up.
“Hi,” squeaked the one in the baby pink micro dress. “Are you coming in?”
Molly sniffed back her racing emotions, rubbing her eyes dry as she stepped forward. “Yes,” she answered with a feigned smile. “Thanks.”
The two women exchanged nervous glances as she approached, and Molly took her place opposite the brunette. She eyed them both as the seconds ticked by, trying not to be too judgmental. Christ, what did they look like, and how old were they anyway? No more than eighteen by her reckoning. Had she ever been that young and excited?
“Which floor?” asked the blonde, who was nearest the elevator controls.
Molly turned to look at her. Good question, her mind raced. She had literally no idea where to start looking for Connor in a place this size. “Where are you ladies going?”
The brunette giggled, an irritating sound which grated against Molly. “We were going to hit one of the clubs,” she told her.
“But then we heard about the ritual going on in the basement,” interrupted the blonde, who sounded almost giddy at the prospect. “So, we thought we’d go and check it out.”
If Molly thought her heart had been out of control before, then evidently, she had been wrong. At the sound of the blonde’s words, it felt like her heart leapt from its place, and threatened to jump into her throat.
A ritual? Is that what she’d said?
A ritual sounded like Malone, and Malone meant Connor.
“Yes.” Her voice was almost a bark, and she noticed how the brunette in the pink dress tensed at the timbre. “The basement sounds good. Let’s go there.”
The blonde nodded, her concern at Molly’s behavior etched into her pretty features as she hit the right button, and sent the doors sliding closed between them. There was a moment of silence, before the elevator headed south, and Molly closed her eyes for a moment. She had to get a handle on herself. Freaking out a couple of preschoolers wasn’t going to help her find Connor. She had to be smarter than that.
Opening her eyes, she found them both staring at her, and as her eyes found her reflection in the mirrored wall, she couldn’t blame them. The face in the glass reminded her of Molly Clary. It looked a little like the smiling woman who appeared on the back of all her paperbacks, but something about this woman was different. The eyes blinking back at her were deep blue pools, but there was something missing in them. They were vacant; devoid of the one thing they needed for contentment.
That had used to be writing, and her friends and the author circuit. But now, there was only one thing she needed, and that was Connor.
There was a small ting as the elevator reached its destination, and Molly twisted her head to see the large ‘B’ lit in the panel by the blonde’s thighs. She held her breath, counting in her mind as the doors crept open at their usual unhurried pace.
“Thank you,” she called out as she dashed outside, but Molly had no idea if the women had heard her. Instead, her attention was now on the crowd of people in the hallway ahead of her.
There were dozens of them, all overdressed and loud. Something had their attention further up the corridor, and they seemed to be cramming themselves into the dense throng by the second. Molly’s feet were moving even before her brain had decided to act, and before she knew it, she found herself packed tightly into the mob, squeezing past their Armani suits and Gucci handbags.
“Excuse me,” she grumbled as she stepped on the toes of yet another pair of patent shoes.
“Hey,” complained the owner of the shoes. “Watch it! Those are expensive!”
The tall, chestnut-haired woman shot Molly a warning glare, but she dismissed it. Molly had no time to get into a fight with some irrelevant bitch about her footwear. Somehow, she was certain of only two things. Whatever was going on up ahead was imperative to her and Connor, and she had to get there. She just had to.
Pushing past another four or five couples, she could feel the panic begin to rise in her chest again. Molly didn’t know what was really going on in there, but she felt sure it wasn’t good. She knew he had left with his brother, but Molly had a sense that Connor was in real danger, and however she tried to rationalize it in her head, she couldn’t shake the feeling.
Something was wrong. Really wrong, and she had to get there faster. But damn it, the crowd never seemed to diminish. For every person she got past, it seemed another three appeared ahead of her.
“Excuse me!” She was practically shouting now, as she thru
st herself further through the throng.
“Careful, little lady.” A low voice she didn’t recognize vibrated over her head, and she turned to throw its owner a death stare. “There’s a queue of people here, and we all want to see. You’ll have to wait your turn to see Reilly get what’s coming to him.”
It was a clean-shaven, Mediterranean-looking guy talking to her, his brown eyes burning into her face. There might have been a time when she’d have considered him to be attractive, handsome even, but that time was long gone. Now, all Molly could process was his words, her brain tripping over the final sentence in particular.
“Wh-what do you mean?” she spluttered. “What’s coming to him?”
The brown-eyed guy narrowed his gaze at her. “You mean you haven’t heard?” he asked her in a softer tone.
Molly shook her head, but she knew she was panting as she waited for his answer. She felt giddy, crushed into the masses, as though she simply couldn’t get enough air.
“Hey, are you okay?” There was concern in his voice now, and he edged closer toward her, much to the chagrin of the woman in the red dress beside him. “Who are you? I don’t recognize your face.”
“Connor,” she breathed, aware of the heat spiraling through her.
Molly wasn’t sure if she was about to pass out, or vomit all over his expensive waistcoat.
“You don’t look so great,” he continued. “Do you need some air?”
Molly doubled over, the anxiety in her belly crippling her for a moment. “Please,” she wailed. “I need Connor.”
“Hey, everyone.” The guy was shouting now. “Make some room. This woman needs air.”
“She needs a fucking spa day,” grumbled the woman clinging to his right arm.
Molly lifted her chin, to try and answer, and just caught sight of the bitchy stare she was giving her.
“That’s enough, Gloria,” the stranger snapped, glowering at the other woman. “You can see she needs help.”
Molly pressed her palms against the dirty tiles of the floor. It seemed his words were having some effect, and as her eyes darted around, she could see the expensive shoes retreating. She realized fleetingly that he must be a man of some importance to have affected the crowd so fast, but the thought slipped from her mind, crushed by the panic that was threatening to drown her senses altogether. When Molly looked up again, she could see she’d been left alone with him in a circle of social isolation, her head aching violently, and the vomit still threatening to rise.
“Hey, come on,” he cooed, reaching for her hair and stroking it gently. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Molly gulped, pushing the nausea back down. “No,” she croaked. “I can’t leave. I have to get to Connor.”
They were almost face to face now, the expensive suit bent over as he crouched down in front of her. “Connor Reilly?” His brows knitted at his own question.
Yes, screamed her head, but Molly wasn’t sure her eyes were able to convey the same message.
“You’re his woman, aren’t you?” he asked, lifting her chin with one of his well-manicured fingers.
She met his eye again, trembling as she struggled to contain the pinballing emotions. It was like the penny had finally dropped in his mind, and now, there was a recognition in that dark gaze. He knew who Molly was, even if she didn’t have a clue about his identity.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m his, and I need to get to him.”
One of his dark brows arched at her words. It was gesture so reminiscent of Connor that Molly wanted to cry.
“Please.” She was almost crying again now. “Please, can you help me?”
He nodded. “Get up,” he commanded. “I’ll help you.”
She didn’t know how she found the strength to move. Everything seemed to hurt now, as though her limbs and stomach were all competing with her head. Somehow, she raised a hand, grabbing onto the sleeve of his dark blue jacket and allowing him to pull her upwards. Back on her feet, Molly’s head was spinning, and she was absurdly grateful for the arm she felt snaking to her waist.
“Hold onto me,” he commanded. “I’ll get you through the crowd.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, but her words were lost as he began to shout, drawing the attention of the entire crowd.
“Listen up, people.” His voice boomed around the crammed corridor. “I have someone here who needs to get inside fast. Now, I know we all want to do the same, but let’s do the right thing. If you can, move aside a few inches. I want to see a walkway we can get through.”
Dozens of pairs of eyes fell over them, and Molly felt herself flush, despite the pain in her head. She flinched, expecting rounds of retorts and insults to be flung in his direction, but to her surprise, most people were silent, and even more unbelievably, she began to see a small corridor forming down the middle of the crowd. Her gaze flitted to the man she was clinging to. Who the hell was this guy? Who could make a demand like that in a place like this and still be obeyed?
“Come with us, Gloria,” he told the woman beside him. “And stop pouting. I’m just doing the right thing for once.”
“I know.” Molly heard her answer from the other side of him. “You never could resist a stray could you, Sir?”
He laughed at that, but they were moving, his strong legs driving all three of them forward, toward the gap which had appeared in the throng. Pulling in a deep breath, Molly tried to concentrate on the basics. One foot in front of the other, she told herself, and don’t forget to breathe. It seemed to take forever, but slowly, they inched through the people, their wide eyes burning Molly’s skin as they stared at the strange crying woman. She supposed she couldn’t blame them. Everyone else was so dressed up, and here was she in her gray yoga pants. No doubt she looked to be in an almighty, disheveled state, but Molly couldn’t think to care. All she could think about was Connor, and whether she was even going to be any use to him when she finally found him.
Gradually, they emerged into a new room. It was probably quite a large place, but the lush, dark shades of its décor meant that it seemed smaller and almost oppressive. Still, she clung to her unknown rescuer, marveling at how the crowd seemed to open up for him.
“Manuel?” Molly blinked up at the familiar man who had spoken, watching as he approached from the middle of the room with a purposeful stride. “What’s this, a threesome? I thought you and Gloria were strictly monogamous.”
His voice was lowered into a loud whisper, but his expression told her he was amused at his own joke.
“Fuck you, Saul,” growled her rescuer. “I’m the good guy here. I found this little lady outside. I believe she belongs to—”
“Connor,” nodded Saul, completing his sentence for him. “Yes, she does.”
Saul Morrison inched closer to Molly’s face, peering into her eyes. “What are you doing here, Molly?” he asked. “I know Connor didn’t want you here.”
Molly stared up into his face, finally acknowledging his identity. It was Saul, leader of The Syndicate. The man responsible for all of it. All of this.
“Where is he?” she demanded, though her voice sounded hoarse.
Saul’s expression softened. “You know he’s not going to be happy when he finds out you disobeyed him, don’t you?”
Something about his words stirred the passion in Molly, and a wave of frustrated anger swept through her body. “Answer me!” she snapped. “Where is he?”
The guy who’d been holding her up this whole time burst into laughter. “Quite the feisty one, aren’t you?” he chuckled. “Trust Connor to choose someone with so much spirit.”
Molly flashed him an unimpressed glare. “Thank you,” she told him, taking her own weight for the first time in what felt like an age. “But I can manage from here.”
That dark brow rose again, but he didn’t counter her. “As you wish, Molly,” he drawled. “I’ll let Saul take you from here.”
She nodded, acknowledging the scowl on his woman’s face.
Well, too fucking bad, she mused as Molly glowered back in her direction. She had no energy for this fight right now, but she had an idea that if Gloria and she crossed paths again in the future, then this wouldn’t be the end of the matter.
“Come on,” ordered Saul. “I’ll show you where he is.”
Molly eyed him warily. She had never been convinced about Saul, but Connor seemed to trust him, and frankly, she was out of better options for the time being.
“You’ve arrived just at the right time actually,” Saul went on as he gestured for her to move into the center of the room. “Or perhaps not,” he added. “Depending on your point of view.”
Molly turned, leaving the couple who’d helped her inside and gazing out into the crowd assembled inside the room. They were on the other side of a velvet rope, which separated them from the general throng. Molly couldn’t see what everyone was staring at, but in the pit of her belly, she knew she had to find out. The ball of dread in her stomach knotted. Yes, she definitely had to find out…
“Connor?” She had practically whispered the word, but already her feet were shifting, taking her in the direction she needed to go.
“Molly, wait,” hissed Saul, reaching out to grab her trailing right hand. “Wait here with me. It will be over soon.”
“No,” she told him, but she didn’t even look back to deliver the answer. Yanking her arm from his grasp, she reached the purple rope warily. “No, let me through.”
Molly assessed the rope, raising her left leg to step over it. She felt unsteady as she threw her other leg over to join the first, but it didn’t matter. As she stumbled around the edge of the assembled people, she was aware of only one thing that did matter now.
Connor.
“Connor.” The sound of his name made her freeze instinctively. It was a man calling him. A voice she didn’t recognize in a room full of strange faces. “Connor, can you hear me?”
Molly gasped, pushing forward through the few remaining assembled bodies. She hadn’t had any doubt on the subject, but hearing his name had cemented the concept for her completely. Connor was here. He was here, and he needed her.
Entwined: (A Dark Romance Kidnap Thriller) (The Dark Necessities Trilogy Book 3) Page 27