by Katie Ruggle
Although Norah rolled her eyes, she fought a smile, too. “Thanks, strict nun-teacher person.”
Molly poked her sister in the side, just where she knew Norah was ticklish. “Maybe not completely perfect.”
With a giggle, Norah bumped her with her painfully pointy elbow before heading up the stairs. As Molly followed, her thoughts turned back to her mom, and her smile faded. After the scene earlier, it was even more evident that they needed to have a serious conversation…one that might very well end with Molly having to kick her mother out of their house. Firming her jaw, she straightened her spine. It was past time Jane learned to stand on her own two feet and quit mooching off her kids.
As much as Molly dreaded the scene it would cause, she was going to evict her mom…for all of their sakes.
Chapter 3
At the loud pounding, Molly buried her head under her pillow and whimpered. It felt like she’d just dozed off after lying exhausted but wide awake in bed, stewing about her mom, feeling the usual medley of guilt and resentment and annoyance that encounters with Jane always inspired in her. Now, her eyelids refused to open, her brain fuzzy and heavy with the need to sleep, but whoever was knocking on the door wasn’t stopping. In fact, they were getting louder.
With a sound that was part growl and part pathetic whine, she lifted her head, prying her eyes open just enough to locate her phone where it sat on the bedside table. Even before she grabbed it, she knew it was much too early—barely dawn, judging by the dark-gray cast of the light filtering through her bedroom window.
“Are you serious?” she croaked when she finally saw the time. Apparently, the visitor was serious, because the pounding on the door continued. “Five fourteen in the morning?” She also noticed that she had a whole slew of texts and calls, several from unknown numbers, and she realized that she’d managed to sleep through all the notifications. The latest text was from her mom, and Molly climbed out of bed, now fully awake. Of course Jane was the reason someone was trying to break down their front door at dawn. Of course.
Suddenly, the knocking stopped, and the faint sound of voices—one male and one female—took its place. Someone else must’ve been faster getting out of bed than she’d been. Now that some of the resentment of being woken so early had faded, curiosity was worming its way into Molly’s brain. She debated whether she should get dressed or not and finally decided not to miss any more of the action than she already had.
As she rushed downstairs, she skimmed through her new texts, and her apprehension grew at the same rate as her irritation. Her mom’s messages were typical of Jane, starting two hours earlier and ending forty minutes ago.
Need help. Car died. Pick me up in front of the parking ramp at 3rd and Josephine. Hurry.
In Cherry Creek.
Hurry.
Why aren’t you answering?
I can’t believe you’re going to abandon me in my time of need!
After refusing to let me use your car, too.
You’re a selfish child, Molly.
I can’t believe you’re ignoring me.
If you were in trouble, I’d immediately run to your rescue, no questions asked.
Pausing at the base of the stairs, Molly stared at her phone. Why had her mom been in Cherry Creek, an affluent section of Denver, at three in the morning? She kept reading but just got more and more confused with each text.
I had to move. Now in front of the mall.
This is your fault, you know.
I need you to call Lono. He’s ignoring me.
He’ll pick up if you call. You’ve always been his favorite.
Molly had to roll her eyes at that. Her dad was a smart guy, but he could be incredibly gullible when it came to Jane. After marrying and divorcing her twice, Lono had finally realized that he needed to put some space between himself and his ex-wife and moved back to Hawaii. Now he was married to someone else and had two small kids. Molly wasn’t exactly sure what help he could’ve offered to Jane an hour ago. After all, it wasn’t like he could swing by and pick her up when he lived a seven-hour plane trip away from Denver.
There were a few other texts from a different number, but Molly assumed Jane had switched to a friend’s phone.
Molly, call me.
Call me. It’s important.
“Molly.” Cara’s voice pulled her attention off the screen. When Molly glanced up, her gaze fell on the man hulking behind Cara, and she almost dropped her phone.
“Carmondy? What are you doing here?” she demanded, resisting the urge to tug her sleep shorts down to cover a little more thigh. The hem of her tank top barely reached her hips, so that wasn’t much help. She now regretted her decision to stomp downstairs in her pajamas, and it irritated her that John could make her so self-conscious. With an effort, she kept her fingers away from her shorts and straightened her shoulders, even when she caught his gaze flicking down her bare legs ever so quickly before he focused on the phone in her hand.
“Your cell works, then?” he asked, the sarcastic edge to his words doubling her annoyance. Why was he peeved with her, when he was the one who’d shown up at her house at a completely unreasonable hour, pounding on the door just after she’d managed to fall asleep? To add insult to injury, Warrant was leaning against his legs, staring up at him with a look of complete hero-worship in his eyes. The way Carmondy was absently rubbing Warrant’s ears made things even worse, since it was hard to be aggravated when he was making her dog so happy.
“Did you come over here and wake up the entire house just to ask that?”
“I wanted to tell you over the phone, but you never called or texted back.” His voice rose in volume, still well below a shout, but it made Molly blink in surprise. Even when they’d sniped at each other, he’d always seemed secretly amused. She’d never heard him sound so irritated.
“You texted me?” She glanced down at the screen even as she realized that the texts from the unknown number—the ones she assumed were from her mom using a friend’s phone—must’ve been John. It made sense, now that she thought about it. The terse texts were much too short, drama-light, and passive-aggression-free to have been from Jane. “How’d you get my number?”
His sigh rumbled out of him in a heavy gust. Apparently, he was all about the drama. “Finding people is sort of what I do for a living. The question should be…why don’t you have my number?”
“Why would I have your number?” His offended expression almost made her laugh, but then she remembered how he’d just woken her up. “Carmondy. Why are you here?”
“What’s going on?” Charlie somehow made the entire question a yawn as she shuffled down the last few steps. Behind her, Norah looked equally sleep-rumpled but was alert enough to look wary. Molly barely had a chance to wonder where Felicity was when her youngest sister jogged down the stairs, looking ridiculously wide awake—and avidly curious.
“I don’t know yet,” Molly answered. “Carmondy’s too busy bitching about my refusal to figure out his locker combination so I could leave him notes after algebra.”
There was a moment of silence as her sisters blinked at her.
“What?” Charlie finally asked.
Raising her hand to brush away her sisters’ confusion, Molly remembered her vow from the night before and dropped her arm to her side. Just to make sure she wouldn’t make any Jane-like gestures unconsciously, she grabbed her right hand in her left and held on tight. “Never mind. Carmondy’s about to tell us all why he’s here, banging on the door and waking innocent, hardworking bounty hunters.” She gave him her best stern glare. “This better not just be you stepping up your recruiting game, because this is not the way to change my answer.”
“Recruiting?” Felicity muttered. “Yeah, right.”
Although Molly was tempted to make her sister explain exactly what she meant by that, she kept her mouth closed, knowing that
it’d be too easy to get off track again, stealing even more of her precious sleep time. If she could get John out of the house in the next few minutes, she could get maybe an hour of sleep before she had to get up for good. With that motivation, she turned to John with an expectant look.
His gaze flicked over her sisters before returning to Molly. His hand left Warrant’s head, and the Great Pyrenees gave him a disappointed look before trundling toward the dog door leading to the backyard. Watching Molly closely, John finally answered. “Your mom’s in jail.”
There was an instant chorus of groans. “Again?” Charlie sounded exactly how Molly felt—disappointed but not surprised in the least. Jane had gone to jail more often than she’d attended any of their school events, and they had all grown up knowing the ins and outs of the entire criminal process, from arrest to court. That was one reason Molly had chosen to start a bail recovery business. Since they knew all of the players involved already, it had been easy to step into the industry.
“No wonder she was blowing up my phone last night.” Although she was pretty sure what the answer would be, she had to ask. “How’d you find out?”
“She texted me when she couldn’t get ahold of you.” He gave her phone another condemnatory glance. “Even your mom knows my number.”
He sounded so uncharacteristically pouty that Molly couldn’t hold back an eye roll. Normally, she’d try to be a little bit more polite, even with John Carmondy, but she was tired and it was early and she didn’t really care if he saw her mocking him. “If I save your number in my phone, will you leave now?”
He looked startled. “That’s it? Don’t you want to know which jail?”
“Not really.” She moved toward him, hoping to herd him out the door, but he didn’t move, which meant that they were now standing uncomfortably close. John seemed even bigger than usual, which made sense, since his broad chest was only inches from her nose. If only he didn’t smell so stupidly good, like leather and falling leaves and… Was that bubble gum? Only he could make the slight whiff of sugar and strawberries seem attractive.
If it had been anyone else, she would’ve backed up a step or two to reestablish her personal space, but this was John Carmondy, and she didn’t want to give up any ground to him. Even though she knew she was being irrationally stubborn, she couldn’t seem to help it. John brought out the teenager in her.
Cocking his head to the side, he looked down at her with a quizzical gaze. “Aren’t you going to call her lawyer?”
“She likes to represent herself.” That wasn’t quite true, but Molly really didn’t want to explain how her mom had fired or alienated every lawyer in Langston and the greater Denver area—possibly in all of Colorado. Jane was stuck with either using a public defender—who had an enormous grudge against her—or defending herself in court.
Still hopeful she might be able to get a little bit of sleep that morning, Molly plastered on the fakest of fake smiles. “Thanks for letting us know. It was very…helpful of you.” He didn’t move, and it got harder for her to hold her attempt at a polite expression. “We don’t want to keep you from your very early morning activities, so thanks again.” Still, he didn’t shift toward the door, and she seriously debated giving him a firm shove. The only reason she resisted was because she doubted it would have any effect. It was almost impossible to force a mountain into motion if he didn’t want to go anywhere.
The silence dragged out, and even her sisters—who usually wouldn’t stop talking long enough for her to hear herself think—didn’t say a word. The awkward tension reached a painful intensity, but Molly refused to say one more thing. This was all on John now.
Finally—finally—he spoke. “Save my number.”
“Sure.” Her quick agreement must’ve made him suspicious about her sincerity, because he tipped his head down and to the side slightly, as if to study her in the haughtiest way possible. John was such a weird mix of irreverent and arrogant. His mercurial personality kept her constantly off guard, as she never knew what his reaction would be. Her usual ability to come up with four different contingency plans on the spot often failed when she was dealing with John—although her trick with Warrant had worked rather splendidly. Leaning to the side to peer around his bulk, she looked at Cara, who still stood between John and the door. Catching her sister’s attention, Molly widened her eyes in a wordless plea.
Although she smirked slightly, Cara stepped up to help as she always did. “We appreciate you letting us know about Mom. Did you want some water or anything before you leave?”
No! Molly narrowed her eyes, shooting mental lasers and an abort mission! psychic warning that Cara either completely misinterpreted or ignored. By the tiny smile on her sister’s face, Molly was pretty sure it was the latter. Most of the time, Cara was as sweet as a soon-to-be kindergarten teacher should be, but her devilish streak popped out occasionally—usually at the worst possible times.
As he looked back and forth between Molly and Cara, John’s mouth flattened from irritation—or an attempt to hold back a smile. It irked Molly that she couldn’t read him like she could most people. “No, but thanks for offering.” His words felt pointed as he directed his gaze toward Molly, but she just shrugged. If he wanted her to give him refreshments, then he should show up at a decent hour—with a less cranky attitude.
“I’ll get the door for you, then.” Cara moved through the living room toward the front entry. After a final piercing look from John, which Molly met with a blandly polite smile of her own, he followed Cara to the door.
They stood quietly as the door closed behind him and Cara engaged the lock. Only after the low rumble of his car engine faded did someone speak.
“You’re so mean to him.” Of course it was Charlie. She usually couldn’t go more than a few minutes without saying something snarky. “It’s both hilarious and a little heartrending.”
“Heartrending?” Molly knew she was in danger of being sucked down into one of Charlie’s rabbit-hole conversations, but it was better than having to discuss the fact that their mom was in jail…again. “Don’t feel bad for Carmondy. If he couldn’t take it, he wouldn’t always be popping up wherever I happen to be. What’s heartrending is that I’ve gotten about two hours of sleep total.” Even though she’d been hoping to be able to go back to bed, the conversation with John ensured that she’d be too wound up to sleep anymore. “If we’re going to stay up, let’s go into the kitchen. I need some coffee.”
“Nope. No coffee. Water.” Hurrying to make it to the kitchen first, Felicity started filling water bottles, keeping her body between Molly and the coffee maker. “Just because Mom’s in jail again doesn’t mean that you all can skip today’s workout.”
The chorus of groans that followed was louder than when John had told them that Jane had been arrested.
“But Fifi…” Charlie started, only to go silent when Felicity whipped out her fiercest glare.
“You get thirty extra seconds in plank position, just for calling me that.” Thrusting a filled water bottle at Charlie, Felicity raked the others with a stern glance. “Anyone else want to whine?”
Molly really did, but she knew better. Although Felicity was normally easygoing, she took her role as family physical trainer seriously, transforming into a merciless drill sergeant for an hour or so every morning. As soon as they were done working out, she turned back into her normal sunny self as suddenly as if a switch had been flipped.
It wasn’t just fear of extra torture that kept Molly from complaining, though. “We need this if we’re going to be chasing down skips and wrestling them into submission.”
Tentatively, Norah lifted her hand. “Since I’m on research duty and won’t be chasing or…wrestling anyone if I can help it…may I be excused?”
“Me too,” Cara chimed in.
Felicity just glared silently at them until they both wilted and accepted the water bottles she held o
ut. “Everyone benefits from exercise. I do this because I care about you. Tough love and all that. So go get changed and meet me on the back porch in five minutes. Don’t make me come find you and drag you out there.”
“It’s not tough love,” Charlie muttered, just loud enough for Molly to hear. “It’s mean love.”
Choking on laughter, Molly saw Felicity’s suspicious gaze turn toward her and quickly swallowed her amusement, regaining her straight face with an effort. “Let’s get this over with.”
As she hurried up to her bedroom to change into workout clothes, she felt a secret wave of relief. Although she didn’t admit it to her sisters, she was a tiny bit relieved that Felicity’s torture would keep her from thinking about anything except the pain in her lungs and muscles for the next hour. This way, stewing about her mom ending up in jail again—and John Carmondy’s front-row seat to their family’s dysfunction—would have to wait…at least for a little while.
* * *
Since Molly had been the last to finish their final sprint back to the house, she was stuck at the back of the line for the shower. By the time she was clean and dressed and walking back downstairs, the house was a lot quieter than it had been just a half hour earlier. Cara was the only one in the kitchen, sitting at the small table and talking on her cell phone, her open laptop perched on top of a stack of files.
Raising an eyebrow at Cara’s sour expression, Molly made a beeline over to the coffee maker. Finally, she thought as she poured herself a mugful, sneaking in a sip even before she added her usual sugar and creamer. Although she made a face at the bitter taste, it was worth it. She could almost feel her exhausted brain cells perking up as the caffeine hit her system.
“I’ll let her know,” Cara said into her phone, still looking annoyed. The pinched expression looked strange on her sweet, girl-next-door face, with her round dimpled cheeks, wide brown eyes, and mile-long dark lashes. “Her answer isn’t going to be any different than mine, though.”