It was probably weird for a party guy to want a secluded house, but that’s what I wanted. What I’d always wanted. A rustic place I could fix up. I pictured cold beers on the porch, maybe a deck of cards or my guitar in my hands.
I hadn’t played in forever, and I never played in front of others. I’d never wanted to be a rockstar like every other teenager alive. I just liked doing things with my hands. And I liked music.
I’d let that get away from me, I realized. I hadn’t started a project in years, let alone finished one. I used to do things around the house for my granny, but that didn’t count.
All I did was drink, party, ride, tat, and fuck.
And now, I wasn’t even doing that.
I’d flushed the drugs in my apartment the night I met Molly. I didn’t want her to come over and see that shit. Of course, the likelihood of her coming over had taken a nosedive yesterday when she called things off.
I clenched my jaw and sped up. I wasn’t the kind of guy girls blew off. I was the guy they begged for.
And I would really, really love to see Molly beg.
A few minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot. I assumed she was working the same hours today, though how she was on her feet after weeks of this, I had no idea. I was going to have to insist that she give up one of her jobs . . . or ask them to pay her more and take fewer shifts.
The other solution I’d come up with was even better. I’d have her move in with me so her expenses would be less. Then she’d only have to worry about her brother, and I could help with that too.
Yeah, that was a brilliant idea. Get her to move in. I could say it was just to help with money, but she’d be there, close at hand, sharing a bed with me every single night.
I was practically smiling as I stepped off my bike. I’d talk some sense into her. I’d take good care of her and she’d never want to leave. I’d finally buy that house, and she’d decorate it with her cute little girly things.
Maybe I could even convince her to give me a baby.
I could see it now, my beautiful girl holding a baby to her breast. I could watch her breastfeed for hours. And I would, I decided.
I stalked to the front door and pulled it open, scanning the place for her. There was a bored-looking teenager working one register, then nothing. No one else.
Maybe she’d taken the day off.
Maybe she was at the nursing home.
More likely, she was in the back, taking a break.
I knew she didn’t want me interfering, but I had to see her. I’d been out of my mind last night. And now I felt like I was gonna die if I didn’t see her. Talk to her. Change her mind.
Kiss her.
I pushed open the door with the big sign on it. The sign I ignored.
EMPLOYEES ONLY
Fuck them. They were asleep at the wheel anyway. The damn store was empty. I’d go wherever the hell I pleased, especially if it meant finding Molly.
I looked around, wondering where to start. It was a big fucking store. I remembered that she sometimes slept in the stock room with the cleaning supplies. She said paper towels made a decent pillow.
There were rows and rows of supplies, some of them reaching to the ceiling. The place was huge, and this part wasn’t even open to the public. I walked down a long aisle to the right, my eyes peeled for sleeping angels.
I heard the breathing before I turned the corner. But not sweet little girl breathing. Heavy, creepy ass dude breathing.
A guy was leaning against the shelves, hunched over and staring at something. I squinted at him for a second, then looked past him to see what he was staring at. He was peeking through a hole between the stacks of the boxes. You could just barely see through to the other side.
Molly was curled in the next aisle. I could see the gentle rise and fall of her breathing as her breasts pushed against the thin cotton of her top. He was staring at her through the shelves.
And wanking.
“Motherfucker!”
I roared as I charged forward, knocking the guy onto the floor. He shrieked like a woman as he hit the ground. I heard a soft gasp as Molly woke up in the next aisle. The guy turned over, pushing his junk back into his pants. I stared at him, exhaling actual steam from my nostrils. I wanted to tear him apart.
“What the hell!”
“You motherfucker.” I pointed at him, stepping closer. “I’m going to fucking kill you.”