by Meghan Quinn
Molly sighed as she grabbed her phone to look at the time. Just as she lit up her phone, something in the corner of the room caught her eye, making her jump out of her skin. Luke was sitting like a perched owl on the chair in the corner with his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. Molly’s heart pounded in her chest, not only from being startled half to death, but also from seeing the once very strong man, look so disturbed. He was mumbling something as he continued to rock back and forth. Not quite sure what to do, Molly grabbed her robe that was at the end of the bed, put it on, and gently walked over to Luke. He didn’t notice her as she came up next to him, nor did he register her voice as she called out to him.
Scared and frightened, not for herself, but for Luke, she put her hands on his shoulders so he would look up at her, which was a big mistake. In no time flat, Luke grabbed her wrists, spun her to the ground and had her eating carpet with her arms behind her back where Luke was applying pressure. Her wrists felt like they were going to snap from the force he was using on them.
“Luke, stop. It’s me. It’s Molly!” she called out, but he didn’t let up. Tears started to fall from her eyes, as he increased the pressure on her wrists. She didn’t know how much more of the pain she could take. “Luke, please stop! Stop, Luke, you’re hurting me!” Molly cried out, begging him to let go.
“I’m getting out of here, you fucking bastard, I don’t care what you say. I’m fucking getting out of here.”
“Luke, wake up, please Luke,” sobs escaped Molly’s throat as she felt like her arms were going to be popped out of their sockets.
“Don’t fucking move or your skull is going to be cracked in two with my fists.”
“Luke! Please, it’s me. It’s Molly, please Luke,” her voice was so strangled with pain, she didn’t even recognize the sounds coming from her, but something must have clicked because the pain that was radiating down her arms, loosened as Luke stopped breathing heavily and eased up off of her. Quickly, Molly scrambled to the corner of the room, not moving her arms much because she didn’t think she could. She got as far away from him as she possibly could. Once she was a good few feet away, she looked over at the man that she once loved and lost another tear. Sitting in the middle of the room on his knees was Luke, looking down at his hands, as if they’d just killed a man.
When he looked up at her, his eyes were bloodshot, his face was crestfallen and his eyes were hollow. There was no sign of the Luke she used to know, just a hollow shell of a man.
She didn’t know what to do because, for the first time since she had met Luke, she was scared…scared to be near him and actually afraid that he might hurt her. Actually, he already had; there were bruises forming on her wrists. She realized at that moment, Luke had the strength and mental illness to hurt her, physically and mentally.
“Molly…” his voice fell as he shook his head and started to get up. He looked around the room, spotted his shirt and threw it on, then continued to walk out of the bedroom.
In her mind, Molly knew she needed to stay away, especially after what just transpired between them, but her heart couldn’t let him walk away, not again.
Molly ran out to the living room, where Luke was pulling his shoes on with brute force. Molly wondered if his toes had any circulation.
“Luke…”
Luke held up his hand and turned toward her. “Don’t, I don’t want to hear it.”
The way he spoke to her was clipped and annoyed, as if she was an inconvenience to him, a minor speed bump in his day. Anger tamped down the gut-wrenching feeling that was ripping her heart apart as her fury started to roll through.
Mustering all the gusto she had, she cocked one hand on her hip and said, “Well, you’re going to fucking hear it!” Luke looked at her in surprise at the rage that laced her voice. “What just happened in there, was not okay and not because you hurt me, but because you’re hurt and you aren’t doing anything to fix it. You’ve been back from wherever it was you were for a while now and have yet to seek help, to heal yourself.”
“You don’t fucking know that,” Luke snapped.
“No? Then tell me you go to see a therapist at least once a week, please tell me differently. Set me straight.”
“I don’t need to fucking talk to you about this; I’m out.”
“Oh yeah? And where the hell do you think you’re going? You have nowhere else to go, Luke.”
Luke turned and looked Molly in the eyes, pure rage flowing through his once-bright blue eyes. “Are you the fucking reason Nash kicked me out?”
“No, you’re the reason, Luke, why Nash kicked you out. You’re the reason why you’re here, because you know this is where you belong. You have so much potential to fix things, to heal yourself, but instead of fighting, you’re giving up. You’re taking the coward’s way out and not only hurting yourself, but you’re hurting your friends, your family and…me. You’re hurting me, Luke.”
“You don’t think I’m fucking hurting?” Luke shouted, as he got off the sofa and flipped the coffee table over. He charged toward Molly, getting right in her face, but instead of backing away like she wanted to, she stood her ground, even though her hands were noticeably shaking from fear of what he might do. “I have to wake up every morning to see people walk around with smiles on their goddamn faces as if the word is perfect. Well, the world is not fucking perfect, Molly, the world is one fucked up place. You have no clue what I’ve been through; you have no fucking clue what happened to me, so don’t go flapping your mouth about how I’m a coward and how I’m giving up. Fuck you! You want me to take the coward’s way out? Give me a fucking gun, I’ll take care of everyone’s problems right now and end the pain I’m causing everyone.”
As if a light bulb had turned on in Luke’s head, he ran towards the bedroom. It took Molly a second to think about what he was doing, but when she heard him rummaging around in the closet, all the blood drained from her body as she took off after him.
When she entered the bedroom, Luke held the pistol case in his hand as he headed toward the bed. He opened it with such ease that is was almost disturbing to see him act so calm when her heart was racing a mile a minute.
“What are you doing?” Molly cried out as she ran toward him and slammed the case shut.
Not even looking at her, Luke pushed her to the side, slamming her into the nightstand, and opened the case back up. He grabbed the gun and checked for bullets. Luckily, they kept them in a different location, but unluckily he knew exactly where they were, as he tossed the mattress to the side, flipping it into the wall and grabbed a box of bullets.
Frozen in place, Molly just watched him load the bullets into the pistol. Without even a second thought, Luke lifted the barrel to right under his chin and closed his eyes. The world slowed down as Molly watched Luke’s forearm flex as he applied pressure to the trigger. Before she knew what she was doing, she flung her body in his direction as the gun went off.
**Jane**
“I’ll be at the cages if you need anything,” Brady said, as he leaned over the center console of the ridiculous red corvette Brady just had to have. The man and his toys were borderline embarrassing, but she didn’t give him much flack because he was happy and a good man. So what if his one vice was cars? So be it.
“I’ll be fine, stop stressing over me. You’re going to drive me crazy.” Jane started to leave the car, but Brady pulled on her hand.
“I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay. I know I might be smothering you.” Jane snorted. “But you and the baby are, by far, the most important things in my life and I couldn’t stand to have anything happen to you.”
Gathering her patience, Jane said, “Brady, I love you so much, but I’m having breakfast with Albert to go over applicants for JB Events. I highly doubt we’ll be setting things on fire, jumping off of cliffs or going on some drug bender, so you can relax.”
“I know, but you’re small, just a tiny little thing, and the doctor said to be careful.” Brady looke
d down at her feet and said, “And I don’t like you wearing those heels. You could trip and fall…”
Jane put her finger against Brady’s lips to quiet him. “Brady, I’ve been wearing heels since high school; I know how to walk in heels.
“Not when you have a belly like that. Your balance is all thrown off.”
Now she was starting to get pissed. She could handle Brady’s overprotective nature; she’d been dealing with it ever since they met, but when he started accusing her of not being smart when it came to the baby, she did not take it lightly.
Jane got in his face and said, “Listen carefully, Matthews. I would do nothing, and I mean nothing, to harm this baby. I know what I’m doing, so drop it, alright? I don’t need your added stress about what shoes I’m wearing or whether or not I can take care of myself.”
Brady blew out a frustrated breath and ran his hand down his face. “Babe, you know I don’t mean to insult you. I know you know what you’re doing. I’m just so fucking tense, wondering what could happen. I mean, fuck, what if some crazed fan came up to you and tried to harm you? We’re not a private couple, people know who we are and I can’t have anything happening to you. I might seem like an overprotective ass most of the time, but you’re all I got, you and that squirt. I just need to make sure you’re careful.”
“I am!” Jane practically shouted as she stomped out of the car and went toward the entrance of the restaurant. Hello hormones!
She heard Brady call her name from behind her, but she ignored him as she pushed through the restaurant doors and looked around for Albert, who already had a table reserved for them looking over Piedmont Park. When Albert spotted Jane, he waved her casually over, as she steamed from head to toe. Her phone was ringing, but she refused to pick it up because she knew her infuriating husband was on the other end.
Jane plopped down in her seat and tossed her purse on the ground, then picked up the menu and huffed while looking it over.
After a few minutes of sulking and her phone going off, Albert pulled her menu down so she had to look him in the eyes. Amusement and curiosity ran through his eyes, only making her madder. All the men her life were getting on her nerves, even the extremely flamboyant ones.
“What?” she snapped, not being able to rein in any of the emotions that were boiling to the surface of her brain.
Albert cocked an eyebrow at her and held up his finger like the perfect gay man that he was. “Oh girl, don’t you dare sass me. I’m not the one who got your panties all in a bunch. Now, why don’t you quit creasing your forehead with those heinous worry lines, because I don’t want to have to suffer down Botox Boulevard with you. You’re too pretty for that.”
Jane shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alby. That man is just so infuriating.”
“That man? As in the hunkiest man ever to walk the planet? Girl, if I were you, I’d be praising every god that has blessed your white ass because that man is a walking orgasm.” Albert fanned himself as he looked outside. Albert had always had a big crush on Brady and never let it go unnoticed.
“Looks can only take you so far…”
“Let me stop you right there,” Jane’s phone went off again, but they both ignored it. “I’m just going to make some general assumptions that I know are right based on the way your lip is curled and your left nipple is pointy.” Jane looked down at her shirt and confirmed that, in fact, her nipple was saying hello to everyone. “Brady was being protective of you and instead of you allowing him to take charge, like he likes to, you got all I-am-woman-hear-me-roar on him and stormed away when poor Brady was only trying to make sure you were going to be okay.” Albert took a bite of the celery that was in his Bloody Mary. “Am I right?” he asked with a mouthful of celery rolling around.
“You always take his side.”
“That’s because he’s a rational human being, whereas you are a crazed lunatic walking around on two toothpicks and three inch heels with a couple packs of flour sitting on the forefront of your stomach, whose emotional needs are more demanding than a professional birthday brat.” Casually, Albert raised an eyebrow at Jane as he took a sip from his Bloody Mary.
“Well, tell me how you really feel.”
“Don’t get all disgruntled at me, Jane. It’s not very becoming on you.” Albert grabbed Jane’s hand and patted it with the soothing calmness that only a best friend could. “Now listen young lady, you have a good thing going for you, don’t ruin it because your hormones are out of whack and you need to prove something to the world. Brady is a good man and only wants to protect what’s his. You’re carrying his child, you’re the one who gets to feel the little girl kick and you get to have that special bond with her that only a mother can experience; give Brady the privilege of protecting you, even if he might be overbearing.”
Jane’s fists itched to punch Albert right in the schnoz because of how damn right he was. It was annoying. Just for once, she wanted her best friend to not be the rational adult and be the bitchy gay man who ganged up on her side.
“Ugh, I hate you,” Jane gave in.
“No, you don’t. You love me and you know I’m right.”
Jane’s phone rang again and, instead of ignoring it, Albert pulled the phone out of her purse and answered it.
“Why, hello you fine piece of meat.” Albert giggled to himself like a little school girl. “Yes, she’s sitting across from me and looking more beautiful than ever.” Jane felt herself blush. “Yeah, you are a lucky man, but I’d say she’s even luckier. You know, I’m always waiting on the sidelines for the moment the screw finally loosens in Jane’s brain; I’ll be there to swoop right in. You and me, Brady, it will be a love affair for the ages.” Jane could only imagine how tongue-tied Brady must be, so she grabbed the phone from Albert’s hand.
“Hello?”
“Jane?” Brady’s voice sounded desperate and relieved at the same time.
“Yes, hi. I’m sorry I didn’t answer my phone…and for leaving without finishing our conversation.”
“God, Jane. I don’t know what to do with you. I just want to make sure everything is alright and I don’t know…”
“It’s fine, Brady. I overreacted and everything is good now. Albert helped me see the light.”
Albert winked at her and took a sip from his drink while swirling the nub of his celery stick in his drink.
“Remind me to kiss that man when I see him.”
“No way in hell. No one gets to touch those lips but me.”
Albert sat up in his seat and said, “Did he want to kiss me?” He started fanning his face. “Jane, don’t you dare cock block me.”
Brady laughed through the phone as Jane tried to calm Albert down. “He is not kissing you. If I let that happen, I’ll never be able to pry you away.”
Albert crossed his arms like a petulant child and sat back in his chair, making Jane smile.
“Thanks for answering my call, sweet thing, but I have to get into the cages; Marc is waiting for me.”
“I thought that old man retired,” Jane teased. Marc was in his late thirties, nowhere near being old, but in baseball age, he was a geezer.
“Apparently, he doesn’t know what to do with his life when Patty is working or at an event, so he bothers me.”
“You like it.”
“I like you.”
“Just like?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Albert chimed in. “You two can fuck like porn stars later, let’s move on with this meeting before I upchuck from the nauseating display of affection.”
“Got to go, handsome.”
“I hear that. The queen has spoken.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, pip-squeak.”
Chapter Nine
**Luke**
Looking up at the ceiling, Luke examined the hole from the bullet that was supposed to be lodged in his skull right now. The cool metal of the gun surprisingly burned his hand from the power it had, the power to remove him from the cruel and fucked-up wo
rld he was living in.
He was sprawled across the bedroom floor with Molly across his body. He’d loaded more bullets, he still had a chance. He had a chance to end everything…the terrors, the nightmares, the flashbacks, the loud noises that either put him on edge or made him practically wet himself. PTSD was some fucked-up shit and never in his life had he actually comprehended the complexity of it until he was living it. He’d seen some of the strongest men he knew taken down by the illness and always judged them for not being emotionally tough enough to withstand what they were going through, but fuck Luke in the ass because he knew exactly what they went through now. He was an ass for thinking any less of anyone with even a mild case of PTSD; it was an illness that could destroy a person and everyone around them.
One moment, he would be living his life the best that he could, maybe watching TV…and one wrong smell, one wrong sound and he found himself breaking out into a fit of sweats, reacting the only way he knew how, by going into protection mode, watching his six every chance he got and trying not to fall into the dark abyss that took over his brain and brought him back to the cold, rotten warehouse where he was beaten, abused and taken advantage of.
He went through all of that torture and pain for what? For some measly drugs? So some foreign fucks could get high? Fuck that! If Luke had the choice, he would blast the motherfuckers with a flame thrower and laugh as he watched them burn to death.
This morning, it was the slam of a neighbor’s door that set Luke off. The door sounded the same as the door that the terrorists/drug dealers used to walk in and out of. The sound set his synapses into full alert. He sat in the corner of the room, where his back was protected and he could scan the room, making sure the men didn’t come back. He was fighting a losing battle against drifting off into flashbacks. That was where his mind was when Molly found him.