“I can understand that,” Mom said, nodding. “My son Mick was allergic to strawberries, of all things. We didn’t even keep strawberry soda in the house.” She chuckled.
“I’m gonna take her in to the living room,” I said, leaning down to kiss Molly’s forehead. “You have some cake.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she argued, trying to stand up until I pressed my hand down on her shoulder.
“She’s gonna send half a’that cake home with me.”
“Why do you get half?”
“It’s my favorite,” I answered, leaning down to kiss her again. “And I’m her favorite.”
I turned and carried Rebel out of the room as my brother and sister argued over who was my mother’s favorite. I needed a few minutes to get my shit together after that clusterfuck.
Chapter 7
Molly
“Hey, Will,” I called softly as he drove us home from his parents house that night. “Could you not leave me next time?”
The car jerked a little to the left at my words and Will quickly straightened it out before glancing over at me. “Leave you?”
“Yeah,” I met his eyes then looked away, setting my hand down on his where it was resting on my thigh. “Just—you know—when you left me at the table.”
“Rebel couldn’t have the cake, right?”
“No, I know,” I said in frustration. I hated feeling needy, because I wasn’t. But after he’d left me alone with his family, I’d been unbearably uncomfortable. I didn’t know them, and his dad was an asshole.
Mrs. Hawthorne had talked almost non-stop as she cut up the cake and served it, wrapping a huge slice of it for Will to take home, but the rest of the table had been noticeably silent. I’d barely taken two bites when it had become too much and I’d escaped to go find Will and Rebel.
I’d found them on the floor of the living room. Will had been flat on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, while Rebel had straddled his chest, poking at his face. He’d huffed every time she moved, like she was knocking the wind out of him, and she’d been giggling like he was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.
“I was just really uncomfortable,” I said, lowering my voice to almost a whisper.
“That was only family,” Will said incredulously. “What’re you gonna do when it’s an entire clubhouse full of people?”
“Not go,” I replied half-jokingly. The other half of me was not joking in the least. I didn’t want anything to do with his motorcycle club. I didn’t know what they were into, but I knew it wasn’t good. It was hard for me to imagine Will there.
“Sorry you were uncomfortable,” Will replied gruffly. “Thought you’d found your footing before I left.”
My skin prickled at his tone.
“Your dad threatened your brother before he’d even sat down at the table,” I snapped.
“Tommy’s a prick—you think it’s okay for him to talk to my mother like that?” Will snapped as he turned down my street.
“Of course not!”
“So what’s got your panties in a twist?”
“He threatened to beat up his teenage son!”
“No, he didn’t.”
“I heard him.”
“You heard what you wanted to hear, Molly,” Will said flatly, turning off the car and throwing his door open.
My nostrils flared as he shut the door behind him, cutting off our conversation. Oh, hell no. I threw open my door and scrambled out of the car.
“You think it’s okay for him to treat his kids like that?” I asked incredulously as I rounded the hood. “Seriously?”
“You got any brothers?” Will asked, turning to face me as I reached him.
“You know I don’t.”
“Then you got no fuckin’ idea what you’re talking about.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“What’s bullshit is you goin’ over to my parents’ house so full of yourself that you fuckin’ pick them apart before we even sit down to dinner.”
“I didn’t do that!”
“Right,” Will scoffed, reaching up to scratch at his beard as he shook his head.
“Your dad is scary, Will.”
“Scary?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Yeah, okay.”
“He is.”
“Agreed.”
“Then why the hell are you mad at me?”
“Because you’re makin’ him out to be this goddamn monster when you don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about and it’s irritating as fuck!”
“He threat—”
“Yeah, I heard you the fuckin’ first time,” Will said, cutting me off. “You don’t know them. You don’t know shit. You’ve never seen Tommy lose his shit—and I hope like fuck you never do. That kid is angry, Molly. He goes off the fuckin’ rails.”
“So get him some help!” I blurted. Will’s explanations were fucking ridiculous. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t seeing what I was seeing. Were they all so dysfunctional that this shit was normal?
“You think they haven’t tried?” Will asked, taking a step toward me. “You think they haven’t done everything they can? My dad would die for Tommy—for any of his kids. But Tommy’s practically an adult and he doesn’t want to talk to some shrink—”