“They used me to try to make Joe steal a car,” she said.
His hand, still holding hers, squeezed reflexively. “Used you how, Molly?” he asked, still speaking very low, very calm, but he was just about as far from calm as he could get.
She opened her eyes and met his gaze. “They kidnapped me. Hell,” she said bitterly. “The truth is that I went along willingly, thinking Darius wanted to be with me. But it wasn’t like that. They held me in an abandoned building, waiting for Joe to do as they demanded.”
She wasn’t the only one sweating now. He was as well. He’d worked enough abduction cases to know all the things that had likely happened to her. No way had she come out of that situation the same person as she’d gone in. And she’d been only fourteen. Just a kid, one who’d already had a rough enough life without this having happened to her. “Did Joe steal the car to get you back?”
“No. Instead, he tore apart the city looking for me. And he found me too, but it took three days.”
“Jesus.” Lucas brought their joined hands up to his chest, which was so tight now it was possible he was going to stroke out. “They hurt you.”
“Yes, but not in the way you think.” She swallowed hard and rolled her window all the way down, sticking her head out and gulping in some air. “Sorry,” she said when she’d rolled the window back up. “Thinking about those days makes me feel like throwing up.”
He understood. He felt a little bit like throwing up himself, imagining her as a young, defenseless teen facing down a gang of thugs on her own. For three fucking days.
“Honestly,” she said squeezing his hand. “It’s not as bad as you’re imagining.”
She was trying to comfort him. At just the thought, his throat burned with emotion, and his eyes did too. “You don’t have to tell me—”
“I think I should,” she murmured, searching his face. “I wasn’t—They didn’t touch me. Darius kept me separated in a room away from the rest of the guys. He told me that as long as I stayed quiet and didn’t cause any trouble, I wouldn’t be hurt.”
With every fiber of his being, Lucas wanted her to tell him that the asshole punk had kept his word.
“But the problem was,” she said, “I wasn’t exactly born with the sit down and shut up gene.” She shook her head. “I tried, but I just couldn’t do it.”
No matter how long ago this had been, if she told him that they’d laid a finger on her, he’d single-handedly hunt every one of them down and break every bone in their bodies without remorse.
“I knew Joe would be looking for me,” she said, “and that he’d find me. But on the third day, I couldn’t wait any more. When Darius came in and tossed me a bottle of water, I picked it up and chucked it at his head. It knocked him over and he hit his head on the way down and was out cold. I stole the handcuff keys from his pocket, unlocked my cuffs and went out the third story window, intending to climb down one of the two trees that were nearly up against the building.”
Lucas felt his chest nearly burst with pride and a nameless emotion, both of which threatened to overcome him. The contrast of Molly’s tough-girl strength and her not completely hidden vulnerability called to something deep inside him. “Nicely done.”
A small smile of pride curved her lips. “Problem was, I was a little weak and off my game, and when I jumped for one of the branches, I missed.” She paused. “I fell about twenty-five feet and broke my back in two places, amongst other things.”
The air slipped right out of his lungs. “Jesus, Molly.”
“Yeah. And I hit the ground right at Joe’s feet. He’d finally narrowed down the location I’d been held. If I’d just stayed quiet and pliant as Darius had asked, Joe would’ve gotten to me.”
Lucas felt sick all the way to his gut on how she’d suffered. And he was certain there was more to this horrific tale, that she’d left out a lot of details. Reaching out, he cupped her face. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. Joe would hate that.”
“Right, because he already blames himself enough,” she said. “We’re really quite the pair.” She stared at him. “Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop looking at me like I’m still broken. I’m not. I’ve had three surgeries, and even though the nerves in my right leg are still damaged, almost everything else is relatively fixed.”
He let out a low laugh. “Molly, I’m not looking at you like you’re broken. I’m looking at you like you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
She sent him a look of disbelief.
“Amazing and strong and resilient and . . . amazing.”
“You already said that,” she whispered.
“It bears repeating,” he whispered back and then started to lean in, intent on kissing her.
Just as the front door of the cabin opened.
In all their perfection of timing, his family spilled out, because apparently there was some sort of radar in the Knight gene that let them know when the prodigal son returned.
“Oh boy,” Molly whispered. “There’s a lot of them.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re really going to owe me big for this one,” she said, sounding like herself again.
In that moment, Lucas knew he’d do whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted. Because in spite of his determination to hold back from the smartest, most resilient, most resourceful, most incredible woman he’d ever been with, he was in. All in.
Chapter 17
#PassTheEggnog
Realizing Lucas’s family was watching her and Lucas from the well-lit cabin porch, Molly felt the first licks of panic. She knew this was just paying back a favor, that it wasn’t real, but still. If telling him about her past had been an eight on the one-to-ten scale of difficulty, meeting his family was a twelve. Twelve hundred. She drew a deep breath and concentrated on the gently falling snow and the incredible beauty of the flakes floating out of the sky seemingly one by one.
Lucas turned her to face him. “Problem?”
“You guys all spend a lot of time together, right?”
“They spend a lot of time together. I’m not around nearly as much.” He held her gaze. “I’m going to ask you again. Do we have a problem?”
She bit her lower lip. “So I’m pretending to be what exactly, an online hookup? A friend? I want to be prepared for any questions.”
He laughed. “An online hookup?”
She shrugged, fighting an odd defensive feeling deep in her gut, one she didn’t want to examine too closely. “Figured that’s more believable than a date or girlfriend. So which is it going to be?”
“Since they’ve already met you, I think it’s safe to leave the online hookup off the table,” he said dryly. “And if I say girlfriend, you’ll run for the hills. Let’s just go with a date.”
Would she run for the hills? She tried it out in her head, the word girlfriend, and felt a genuine panic ball bounced around in her gut to go with the annoying defensiveness.
Dammit. She hated when he was right.
“Molly.” He cupped her face, his amusement fading. “What’s going on?”
Lie. “I don’t like lying to your family. They’re nice.” And actually, nothing about that was a lie after all.
“They’re also insane,” he said. “Listen to me, okay? This has nothing to do with our reality and everything to do with just keeping my family happy and off my back. And like on any covert op that requires a fabricated backstory, you go with the easiest, most natural thing you can come up with. Something close enough to the truth that it rolls off the tongue. We work at the same place and we’re on a date. Just a simple date. Period.”
Yeah. That made the most sense, of course. But she couldn’t deny that a small part of her, a very small part, actually might’ve liked to try girlfriend on for size regardless, just to see how it fit on her.
“Molly?” He let his thumb slightly glide along her jaw.
“Yeah. Got it.” She pulled back. “A simple date. Like our second or third?”
“Sure,” he said.
She nodded. “Fine. But there’s something you should know.”
“What’s that?”