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“Yeah.” He said it so softly. “We can go to Katya.”
“And forget everything, for one night?” I leaned toward him.
Closer. So close.
He nodded, his forehead now almost resting on mine. “And forget everything, for one night.”
I held up my pinkie. “Promise?”
He flashed me a smile. My heart jumped in my chest. He linked his pinkie with mine, keeping them entwined. “Promise.” Sitting back, he pushed a button, relayed our new location, and sat back. He kept our pinkies linked so now we were doubly holding hands.
I scooted over, getting closer until my side was touching his.
He let go of our pinkies, putting his arm behind me, anchoring me more firmly against him.
I leaned in, resting my head to his chest.
I was kinda loving this.
That scared me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
ASHTON
I took her to the private floor that Trace and I usually used when we were at Katya. There was a small patio-like extension to the side, a bench that sat far back in the shadows. I knew Trace used to sit and watch Jess when she worked. She didn’t know, but it was private, and we could still be a part of the atmosphere below.
That’s where I took Molly tonight.
Trace and Jess went to their place, and when he or I were here, we were the only ones allowed on this floor. Elijah was at the door. A few guys were on the other side, my personal guards. Anthony came in, Katya’s main manager, and had a debrief with me quick, but now he was gone.
I was sipping my bourbon, and she was dancing on the end of the patio, overlooking the floor, lost in the music.
She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.
It sounded so fucking cheesy, and it wasn’t something I usually would think, but with Molly Easter, I found myself unable to think anything else.
God. What was I doing with her?
Even I didn’t know, but there was a pulse between us. It grew stronger each day we were together, each touch, each look, each word shared. It was a long tether, growing more powerful until I was so bound to her, if I cut it, it would be to both of our detriment.
Her mom.
My mom.
That was still a mess, something no one knew who was alive anymore. Just me. Now just her. Even Trace hadn’t a clue. I’d never told him. It was too hard, too painful, but I gave birth to it the second I told Molly the truth.
That burned me, deep down.
She hadn’t asked a question since. I didn’t think she thought about it, but maybe that was how she survived? Not thinking about who defined us growing up. Or not letting them define her?
Me. I was defined. I knew it.
I liked the shadows. I lived in the shadows. I excelled in the shadows.
My mom put me in the shadows, what she did, who she was.
Her drug addiction was just the tipping point.
Watching Molly now as she was dancing, seeing she was like sunshine right now—she was the opposite of me. I was darkness. She was light, though she had darkness in her. I knew it, felt it. Just like she did. It was another reason we connected. She and I. We were the opposite, but also the same. I was cruel. She was . . . whatever she was. She had a switch. Happiness. Half-crazy?
Now she was saying she was the in-between?
Jesus. She was. She could be.
She was exactly what I needed, and I never knew. But no, that wasn’t true.
I had known.
Fuck. All those years ago. I had known. One look at her in that hallway, knowing she shouldn’t have been there, and knowing what was happening—I knew it then. I needed her in a way that I should’ve needed the woman who just died.
The burning was too intense, trying to claw out of me.
Molly didn’t have a care in the world right now. Everything was put away, shoved down in whatever drawer it was supposed to go. And for now, her eyes were in a daze. Her body glistened from some sweat. She never stopped. Her hands were in the air, twirling, creating a spell, and she turned, circling. She could’ve been in a field, enjoying the feel of the sun on her. It was the same movements, but more whimsical.
Beautiful. Stunning. Powerful.
She was mine.
I wasn’t letting her go.
She owned me, and god help anyone who tried to take her away from me.
As if sensing my thoughts, something she’d done before, she looked my way before she began coming to me. She was bringing her sunshine to me, lighting up my corner.
I sat back. Waiting.
She moved in, holding her drink.
I opened my legs wider, and she stood between them, looking down at me. Still moving to the music.
The look in her eyes, I didn’t think she wanted to talk, and knowing that pulse was still pulling, I leaned forward, running my hands up the backs of her legs.
