by Katie Ruggle
His lips flapped slightly, as if he were trying to figure out how to spin it.
Instead of waiting for him to say anything else, Molly turned on her heel and headed for the inner office door. She had it open and was stepping through before he spoke again.
“I can be your friend or your enemy,” he called after her. “I promise you won’t like having me for an enemy.”
As Ashton watched her curiously, she strode for the main door. “You need to cut down on all those mobster movies,” she called over her shoulder. “Or at least pick better lines to steal.”
She shoved her way outside, slamming the door closed on Ashton’s laughter…and immediately ran into what felt like a wall.
Chapter 7
Bouncing off the hard chest in front of her, she started tumbling toward the ground, but two huge, mitt-sized hands caught her before she fell. Although she tended to avoid touching him—and had never run headlong into his massive body before—she instantly knew who she’d crashed into. Molly wasn’t at all surprised. The way the last few days had been going, how could it be anyone but John Carmondy who’d witnessed her latest humiliation?
Once she regained her balance, she hesitated, even as the thinking part of her brain screamed at her to pull away. The feel of his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips made her body temperature shoot up several degrees, but she told herself it was just residual rage from meeting with Barney…and then literally running into her occasionally helpful nemesis.
Gathering what brain cells remained, she finally took a step back. His hands fell from her hips after a short pause, making her wonder if he’d been reluctant to let her go. Immediately, she shook off that whole train of thought. Her brain must’ve been scrambled when her head hit his rock-hard pecs.
The distant sound of an emergency vehicle siren yanked her out of her weird, uncharacteristically moony fit. Barney’s office was one of the few occupied spaces in the ratty strip mall, and the neighborhood was just as run-down and abandoned. She glanced over her shoulder at Barney’s office door and then back at John as suspicion began creeping in.
“Why are you here?” she asked bluntly. Either he was following her or he was coming to see Barney, neither of which were positives. Her mind was in chaos, thanks to the revelations that had just been dumped on her, and she was just one wrong thought away from exploding in a fit of rage or breaking down in uncontrollable tears.
“I stopped by your house, and one of your sisters told me you were here.”
Molly suddenly wished she were an only child. “Which sister?”
“The one that looks the most like you.”
“Felicity,” she growled. It had to be her. She was the one who shared Molly’s dad, and both of them were spitting images of Lono. There would be retribution for siccing Carmondy on her. Right now, though, she needed to put some distance between her and Barney so she didn’t charge in there and choke him until his stupid, smug face turned purple and he handed over the title to their house. A tiny part of her was shocked at the grim satisfaction that mental image gave her, but most of her was all for putting aside her usual anti-violence stance.
Skirting around John, Molly strode across the parking lot. The absence of her car caused a flare of fresh anger, but she pushed it back and turned in the direction of the bus stop. John, being John, quickly caught up and walked alongside her.
“Why’d you track me down?” she asked, although the question lacked its usual heat. Her brain was too busy processing what she’d just found out and trying to come up with a plan so they didn’t get evicted if—when—Jane decided not to show up in court.
“Why were you talking to Barney?” he countered rather than answering her question.
Two could play at that game. “Why is that any of your business?”
“You aren’t going to go after Sonny Zarver, I hope.”
Irritation surged through her at his stern tone. “Again, focus on your own situation, and I’ll do the same.”
“Molly…” He caught her arm, pulling her to a stop. “Sonny’s dangerous. I know the bounty’s big, but you don’t want to get mixed up in his world. Money’s worthless if you’re dead.”
Despite her resolution not to get sucked into conversation with John, she couldn’t keep her response to a mere sideways glance as she tugged away and started walking again. “Why are you pushing this so hard? Are you hoping to bring in Sonny yourself?”
His face tightened, his mouth pulling into a straight line. His long legs easily kept pace with hers. “Of course not. I’m not that stupid.”
That stung. She kept her gaze forward, focusing hard on the bus stop a half block away. “You think I am, though?”
“You’re not stupid.” There was no hesitation in his words. “But after what your mom did, I’m worried you might be getting desperate.”
“Desperate.” The word was forced between gritted teeth. The truth of it made it especially painful to hear. She needed to get away from John before she did something embarrassing—like burst into tears or admit that he was right. “Go away, Carmondy.”
He made a frustrated sound. “You’re taking this the wrong way. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“Stop trying.” She reached the bus-stop shelter and halted. “You don’t need to look out for me. I have four sisters who do that already.”
“At least let me give you a ride home.” He pulled out his phone and tapped at the screen. Although she was curious, she refused to crane her neck to see what he was doing.
“No. I’ll take the bus.”
“You’re going to be waiting hours.” He held up his phone with the screen toward her so she could see the bus schedule. He was right.
Suddenly, all of the anger that had been filling her whooshed out like a balloon with a leak, leaving her limp and tired. She sagged against the side of the shelter. She hadn’t felt so hopeless and desperate since she was twelve and the heat had been turned off in January because Jane hadn’t paid the gas bill. So many times, Molly had come up with solutions and worked hard and thought she’d succeeded in making life better for her sisters, only to have her mom destroy everything Molly had just built with one casually selfish decision.
John’s mention of Sonny Zarver reminded Molly that Barney wanted her to bring in that particular skip. Now that he had leverage on her and her family, she couldn’t see how they could get out of taking the job. Molly needed to call Jeremy Tremaine, an attorney her mom had used for years until Jane had finally chased him off, as she eventually did all of her lawyers. Jeremy would know whether Barney really could take possession of the house before Jane’s next court date if it appeared that she’d fled. Molly’s stomach twisted and churned.
Gentle, enormous hands on her shoulders brought her out of her galloping thoughts, and she looked up to see that John was watching her intently. “Let me give you a ride home,” he said. “Please.”
Her knee-jerk reaction was to turn him down, but she hesitated before saying the words. Her options were limited. She could walk several miles back home or wait hours for the next bus or text Charlie for a ride. The last was her only real option, and it wasn’t ideal. Charlie and Felicity were doing the rounds of Jane’s friends, trying to find out where their mom had landed after leaving the Denver jail. They didn’t need to come all the way back to Langston to give her a ride home, especially not when John was right here, offering her his taxi services, and the only thing stopping her from accepting was her pride.
“Okay,” she said before she could reconsider.
His eyes widened briefly before he grinned, playing it off as if he’d always known she’d give in and take him up on his offer. Somehow, that brief startled moment made him seem less like a rival and more…sweet—a term she’d never thought she’d use in reference to John Carmondy.
Pushing away from the side of the bus shelter, she heade
d back toward the parking lot in front of Barney’s office. The closer they got, the more her thoughts tangled and turned. They’d reached the edge of the lot, a scraggly hedge separating them from the few vehicles, when Molly put a hand on John’s arm, silently bringing him to a halt. His forearm tightened under her light touch, and the movement, for some stupid reason, made her insides buzz like she’d swallowed a whole hive of bees.
Reminding herself firmly that this was not the time for any of that, she shoved those thoughts away and focused on the reason she’d stopped. Barney was bent over, retrieving something out of his car. John took his cue from her and went still, his gaze scanning the area as if he was searching out potential threats.
Although such careful perusal wasn’t necessary in their current situation, she still appreciated it. Molly usually had to be the responsible and cautious one, so it was nice to have someone else to watch her back for once.
She watched Barney as he found whatever he was looking for and slammed his car door. As soon as he’d disappeared back into his office, Molly moved out from behind the hedge that had been giving them cover. “Thanks for letting me avoid him,” she said, giving John a quick glance.
“No problem.” He steered her toward his SUV with a hand hovering just over her lower back—not quite making contact, but near enough that she felt the heat of his palm. “I get it. If I can manage to not talk to Barney, I do it in a second.”
Molly huffed out a laugh. “Me too—obviously. Plus, we just had a not-so-friendly conversation, so I didn’t want to have to start that up again.”
He studied her out of the corner of his eye in a way that shouldn’t have been cute, since he was a huge, built, tough-as-nails bounty hunter, but it was cute—adorable, even. “Can I ask what you talked about?”
“You can ask, but I probably won’t tell you.” He seemed to accept that with just a small dip of his chin as he unlocked the doors and opened the front passenger side for her, so she relented. “You already know Barney wrote Jane’s bond.”
He didn’t respond, just waited for her to continue, and she wondered how much of what she was about to tell him he already knew. John’s network of informants put Molly and her sisters’ connections to shame. He always seemed to have information before anyone else. It was a bit infuriating, and Molly secretly wished she had access to his sources. Today, though, there was something freeing about knowing that John already had all of the information she had—and probably more. She didn’t have to hide anything about the case from him, since that would’ve been futile. It was a sign of how desperate she was to talk to someone about what was happening, someone who wasn’t one of her sisters, since she had to protect them. John, though, could take care of himself.
Because of this, she started talking as soon as he circled the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. “She put the house up as collateral.”
He shot her a quick but penetrating glance, and she wasn’t sure whether that look meant he was surprised by the news or already knew and was just checking to see how she was taking it. Knowing John, it was the latter.
“It’s my fault.” The words started tumbling out more quickly, the relief of talking about it making her spill what she probably should’ve kept to herself. “I should’ve pushed Mom to transfer the title over to us rather than taking the drama-free route of just paying it off while it was still under her name. I never thought she’d yank it out from under us like this.”
As she heard her words out loud, she realized how silly and naive she had been. Why had she assumed that Jane wouldn’t grab any and all assets she could? When had her mom ever kept her sticky, greedy fingers off any source of money, no matter how sacred? If she hadn’t cared if her kids had enough to eat or heat in the winter when they were small, why would she care if those same kids were suddenly homeless as adults?
“None of this is your fault,” John said, sounding so sure that what he was saying was the absolute truth. The utter confidence of his words untied a sticky knot in Molly’s chest, and her tight shoulders relaxed a fraction. “This is all on your mom.”
“I was stupid,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to deal with a huge fight, so I put all of us in this situation. We could lose our house because I was too big of a weenis to insist she sign it over when we paid it off.”
He made a sound somewhere between a cough and a choke. “Weenis?”
Molly gave him a stern look, trying very hard not to be charmed by the way his suppressed smile dug vertical grooves into his cheeks. “Focus, Carmondy. We’re not twelve.”
His expression turned offended, although amusement still lurked under the surface. “I’m not the one who said ‘weenis.’”
Flipping her hand in a dismissive gesture, she resisted the urge to engage in an off-track conversation about nonsexist synonyms for wimp. She needed to concentrate on the issue of Barney’s hold on their lives. She dug her cell phone from her pocket. “Whatever. I need to call Jeremy Tremaine.”
Instantly, all humor was gone from John’s expression, his face all hard angles and sharp glares. The change startled Molly enough that she almost dropped her phone before she reminded herself that it was just John. “Why?” he barked, making her stare at his etched profile.
“Because he’ll know if Barney really can take our house before Mom’s first court date if it looks like she’s taken off.” The words came out sounding more tentative than she would’ve liked, and she straightened her shoulders, refusing to let John intimidate her, even if he suddenly looked like an angry gargoyle. A hot angry gargoyle. She shifted in her seat, not liking her body’s reaction to this oddly stern version of her usually easygoing rival.
“He threatened to do that?” Now John looked even angrier, although Molly could tell it wasn’t directed at her this time. “Bastard.” He sent her a glance that had a hint of apology in it. “Maybe I should’ve bonded her out. At least then you wouldn’t have Barney threatening to take your house away.”
His words make her stomach churn with a medley of emotions. As much as she hated that Barney had power over them, the thought of John accepting their house as collateral for Jane’s bond made Molly feel sick. Even if he’d done it to keep Barney’s grubby paws off their home, it still would’ve felt like a betrayal. “No,” she said slowly, trying to work through the hundreds of emotions swamping her. “I don’t want you involved in this mess.” At his wry look, she gave a small, slightly apologetic shrug and amended her statement. “I don’t want you involved any more than you already are, at least.”
He gave a noncommittal grunt as he pulled up to the curb in front of her house, and Molly refocused on finding Jeremy’s number in her phone. Even though she knew she should go inside and then call, a large part of her was reluctant to leave John’s vehicle. It felt safe and peaceful, a small oasis of protection where she could hide from the current insanity of her life.
Shaking off her thoughts, she found Jeremy’s number and moved to tap it, only to be interrupted when John covered the screen with one of his giant hands. Raising her head, she glared at him, but it was tough to hold on to her anger when he wore such a sheepish expression.
“What are you doing?” she asked as frostily as possible.
“Don’t call Tremaine,” he said, and her spine stiffened into a steel rod at the command in his voice. He must’ve noticed, because he grimaced and gave her hand a clumsy pat before withdrawing. “Please. I’ll find out if Barney can take your house before Jane’s next court date.”
“Why don’t you want me to talk to Jeremy?” Her question was more curious than offended, since his insistence that she not call the attorney had sounded sincerely concerned.
He opened his mouth and then shut it again, as if debating internally what to say out loud. “I don’t trust him.”
Tapping her cell phone against her palm, she eyed John as she considered what to do. She already felt like she was
depending on him too much. He felt like a rock in the churning sea of chaos that her life had turned into, and while all of her instincts promised that she could trust him, she didn’t really know him that well. Working as a bounty hunter had shown her over and over again that she could only depend on her sisters, and now was definitely not the time for her to forget all the hard lessons she’d learned. “Who are you going to ask?” she finally said. “I’d rather not share this information with anyone else.”
“I won’t mention any names or specific details.” Lifting his hand, he traced an X over his heart like he was eight years old, and she was torn between laughing and melting. He could be such a big dork sometimes. “If you ask Jeremy, he’ll know right away that you’re talking about Jane, but my contacts won’t make the connection—not if I’m the one asking.”
Although she paused again to consider his words, she already knew what her answer was going to be. “Okay.” There was barely a hesitation before she spoke the next words. “Thank you.” It was getting dangerously easy to thank John. She felt another twinge of apprehension that she was relying on him too much. Once she allowed him into her world, it would be hard to eject him. When he smiled, though—a truly happy and wide grin—she couldn’t regret opening the door for him.
Now she could only hope that regret wouldn’t come later.
Chapter 8
A knock on the door interrupted Molly’s perusal of the Colorado criminal statutes. Completely caught up in the sentencing guidelines that may be Jane’s future, she jumped at the sound. Warrant, on the other hand, didn’t even lift his head off the floor where he was sprawled out over an air-conditioning vent. Instead, his tail thumped lazily a few times before he fell back asleep. The dog’s reaction made Molly fairly certain of who was at the door.
As she stood up, she swallowed a groan at the feel of her spine popping back into place. Glancing at the clock, she saw that she’d been hunched over her laptop for most of the afternoon. It was no wonder her body was protesting.