“I think she’s in the shower. She’s okay. I offered for us to grab her things from her place while she waits here.”
“Good idea.” Mason strolled into the kitchen, and I followed behind him. He opened the oven to check on something inside. “Let’s go right after we eat?”
“Yeah. I also told her she should stay with us until her sister is back from tour in about two weeks. Assuming that’s fine with you?”
Mason was still looking at something in the oven. “Sure, of course.”
Was he thinking about how he’d handle seeing us together for the next two weeks in his own home? He could hardly avoid us. Then again, I had no idea how Molly would behave after going through a traumatic event. If she needed to keep her distance to feel safe, so be it. The realization that her wellbeing was more important to me than any of my own selfish needs was sobering. Fuck. When did this girl become this important to me?
Was it the first time we slept together? Or when she sat beside me on the deck and listened to me rant about my fucked-up family? Or maybe it was last night, when I saw her hurt and in tears, and I knew I’d do anything to make her whole again.
Breakfast was quiet. Molly asked Mase if he really was okay with her staying and then picked at her food without saying much else. She seemed nervous about something, maybe our impending confrontation with her neighbor, assuming the fuckface hadn’t done the smart thing and fled.
“Has he done anything like this before to you?” I asked.
Her eyes flitted back and forth between Mason and I. “He tried to break into my place before. Twice. And he’s made a bunch of creepy comments.”
I tried to temper the anger setting fire to my blood, but Mason was less successful doing the same to his.
“Why did you stay there for this long? Not to imply this was your fault in any way. I just need to know.” His jaw ticked as he waited for her answer.
She rubbed her arms. “The rent is cheap. I was going to move some place better as soon as I got a promotion at work and could afford it. And I thought I could handle Cory. I guess I was in denial he’d ever take it this far.”
Mason looked like he was about to say something but then thought better of it and gave a slight shake of his head. “Okay. I understand.”
I sure as hell didn’t understand anything about this. Why didn’t she ask her sister for help? They lived in the same fucking city and appeared to be close, so I was pretty sure Adeline would have done whatever was needed to get Molly out of that situation. Still, when I took in Molly’s low expression, I decided to follow Mason’s lead and not push.
When she handed us the key to her apartment as we were about to leave for her things, her body language betrayed her anxiety. She gnawed on her bottom lip and avoided looking us in the eye. Was she worried about us confronting the neighbor or something else?
I understood when we got to the building.
A groan burst out of Mason. “This place looks like it should have been demolished a decade ago.”
Just like her car. The clues were starting to fit together. Molly was struggling to make ends meet with the pittance Hyperion paid her, and she was clearly refusing to ask for help from anyone, even if that put her in danger.
I slammed the car door behind me and stomped my way to the entrance with Mason right on my heels. We scaled the steps to the fourth floor where a broken lightbulb hung off a wire and began looking for her unit.
“It’s here,” Mason said. A moment later, a lock clicked, and the hallway flooded with natural light from Molly’s apartment.
We spent a few minutes taking it in, and I felt marginally relieved. It wasn’t as grim inside as it was outside. Molly had clearly tried her best to make it into something resembling a home, but no amount of fairy lights and decorative pillows could change the fact that the building was unsafe.
We worked down the list of items she’d given us and quickly packed two duffel bags. I was about to grab her notebook when a sound from the hallway made me freeze. I shot Mason a look and jerked my head in the direction of the open door. He frowned and nodded.
“You came back, huh?” A raspy voice drifted through the open doorway. “Couldn’t stay away from me.”
We waited for the owner of the voice to step inside. When he did, my stomach turned in disgust. He was huge, with a big ruddy nose, a protruding beer belly, and an overgrown beard that looked like it hadn’t been washed in months. I felt homicidal. My hands curled into fists.
When he registered us instead of Molly, he narrowed his eyes. An angry red scratch ran across his forehead and cheek, and I hoped to God it was Molly who did that to him. If he thought that was going to be the last of his injuries, he was about to be proven very fucking wrong.
“I thought you were someone else,” he bit out.
“Yeah, we got that part.” I didn’t waste another second. I lunged at him, pulling him inside the apartment by the neck of his dirty shirt and slamming the door shut with my foot. He coughed, trying to pry my fingers off him, but there was no chance in hell I’d let him go. I slammed him hard against the door. “You know, I’m not the violent type, but something tells me I’m going to get a lot of satisfaction from making scum like you bleed.”
He started to fight back, but I was ready for it. My punch got him straight in the nose—almost certainly breaking it—and he swayed on his feet. Mason stepped forward, getting Cory in the jaw with a brutal uppercut before kicking at his feet.
The piece of shit collapse with a loud thud.
We stared at the pathetic sight of him curling into the fetal position. “Stop! Who are you? Why are you doing this?”
