“You broke your arm when we were eleven, right?” she asked. Her legs were practically bouncing against the side of her bed, and her good hand was jittery where it wrapped around my back.
“Yep,” I answered. “Took off on my dirt bike, even though I was told not to—” Molly laughed. “—and wiped out in less than ten minutes. Pretty sure if I hadn’t walked back to the clubhouse with my arm danglin’ at an angle, my dad woulda beat the hell outta me.”
“Why weren’t you supposed to be riding?” she asked distractedly. I was pretty sure she just wanted me to talk so she didn’t have to think about getting her arm fixed. Poor baby.
“Dad had been workin’ on it and the handlebars weren’t tight,” I confessed.
“Oh, no.”
“Oh, no is right. Fuckin’ stupid kid mistake.” I rubbed my hand against her back, trying to get her to relax a little. She was stiff as a board. “Funny thing about the whole thing was my mom gave my dad hell about it. Askin’ why he hadn’t finished the project and shit before I got ahold of it.”
“Your dad must’ve been pissed.”
“Pretty sure he was just glad I didn’t kill myself,” I mumbled as the doctor came into the room.
“Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s get that arm fixed up.”
I thought Molly was going to hyperventilate.
* * *
“You think everythin’s okay now,” Molly mumbled an hour and a half later as I lifted her out of Amy’s car and carried her into the clubhouse. She was slurring pretty good after the drugs the doctor had given to calm her down. Jesus, she’d almost given herself a heart attack over a procedure that was easy as shit. I didn’t know what she would have done if I hadn’t been there. “Everythin’s not okay now, Will. Is not okay.”
“Alright, sugar,” I said calmly, trying not to laugh.
“You did me dirty. So dirty.”
“Let’s talk when you wake up, yeah?” I asked as we passed Farrah and Casper sitting on one of the couches.
“Dirty,” Molly said even louder, making Farrah smirk.
#p#分页标题#e#
“Where’s Reb?” I called over my shoulder. I wasn’t stopping. Who knew what the fuck would come out of Molly’s mouth?
“Melanie took her to your mom’s to play with the girls,” Farrah answered. “They’ll be back in a few hours.”
Good. Hopefully Molly could sleep that anxiety shit off. Between the pain meds and whatever other shit they’d given her, she was out of it.
“Just left!” Molly was mumbling as I used my shoulder to open the door to my room. “Ghosted me. Thas what thas called. Ghosted.”
“You’re lit,” I said, the truth of her words making me sweat.
“Shouldn’t forgave you.” She held on tight as I tried to set her on the bed, and I ended up half on top of her, trying hard as hell not to crush her. “Where’s Reb?” She looked frantically around the room.
“She’s with Mel,” I said soothingly, moving so I wasn’t on top of her anymore. “Hangin’ out with my mom.”
“Oh, good,” she sighed, moving her bleary gaze to me. “She didn’t want me to leave her today.”
“Understandable,” I said softly as she rolled toward me, dropping her heavy cast on my chest.
“She doesn’t show it, ya know,” she said insistently, her eyes tearing up. “She doesn’t say it when she’s hurt, but I can tell. I can tell. I’m her mother. I can tell.”
“I know you can, baby.” God, she was killing me.
“I know when she’s sad.” She nodded her head sloppily. “I know when she’s scared and happy and mad.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a good mama,” I replied, pulling her closer.
“I can’t die,” she told me seriously, her face suddenly lucid. “No one else can tell when she’s sad.”
“You’re not gonna die.”
“Almost died,” she mumbled, pressing her face against my chest.
“That ain’t ever gonna happen again,” I told her, my voice breaking. I grabbed her hair and gently pulled her face from my chest. “You believe me?”
“Those guys—”
“Those Russians are dead men. You don’t ever have to worry about them again.”
“Okay,” she said tiredly, her eyes drooping.
“You ready to sleep for a bit?” I asked, letting her face burrow back against the side of my chest.
“Yeah,” she said blearily.