Scorched(18)

“Oh, sweet Christ! This can’t be happening,” Molly heard Devil whisper violently. Turning her head toward her husband as she ran a soothing hand up and down Mannie’s heaving back, she noted that he’d turned completely white, his normally tanned skin now ashen. Honestly, she never expected him to care so much about Armando’s sensitive feelings, and she couldn’t help feeling a little pleased with him for being so sensitive to their friend’s feelings.

Well, she was pleased with him… right up until she noticed that guilty glint in his eyes and the nervous way he was now clutching the chair. And if those weren’t clues enough that something was amiss, he’d started to sweat. Devil Delancy did not sweat. Not when he ran. Not when he exercised. Not even that one time that their daughter had exploded from both ends.

But he was sure the hell perspiring now.

Damn it, she knew that look! Her husband had something to do with this fiasco. What, she had no idea. But, she could feel it in her gut that he was at least partially responsible for this debacle.

And, later, she’d make sure that he felt her wrath in his balls.

For now, she had to concentrate on keeping her heartbroken friend together and based on Sami and Viv’s identical expressions of anger, she also would be keeping her other two friends from committing a homicide. Holy crap but this was a cluster of fuck if ever one existed.

“They’re coming here.”

Molly listened to Mannie as he cried into one of the expensive lace throw pillows that she’d painstakingly chosen when she’d redecorated her living room last year. Perhaps it was awful of her, but all she could really think about was trying to rescue her cushion from Mannie’s tears and ever twisting anxious fingers. She listened with only half an ear as he continued.

“I couldn’t stop them from coming. I tried to stop them, but the uppity asshole wouldn’t listen to me. I tried to tell tu padre that he’s not even here, but he no listen. How the hell can I be expected to host June and Ward fucking Cleaver?”

Exchanging confused looks with both Sami and Viv, Molly could only shrug helplessly as she patted Armando’s back consolingly as she tried to discretely save her cushion from further water damage.

“Okay, hold up a minute. I’ve got a couple of questions here, but, first, I need a serious drink. Anyone joining me?” Sami asked, motioning for a time out in the conversation as she stood and crossed to the liquor cabinet.

“Si! Oh, Dios Mio!! Si! I want a Crown and coke in the worst way,” Mannie sniffled. “I’m just parched. Do you think I could already be dehydrated?” he asked, wiping his wet cheeks.

“No, but I think your fiancé is living on borrowed time for putting all of us through this,” Sami growled, efficiently mixing Armando’s drink and quickly carrying it to him. “Who’s next? Viv?”

“I’m gonna stay sober for this conversation,” Vivian murmured with a slight shake of her head. “You never know. Cooler heads might need to prevail at some later point this evening,” she noted, jerking her chin in Sami’s direction.

“Yeah, they’d frown on it if you showed up at the police station drunk when you drop by to bail me out later,” Sami interjected smoothly, glancing at Molly. “You having anything, little mama?”

Molly thought about it for a whole second as she stared longingly at the bottle. She’d really only had a few sips earlier and she’d pumped plenty of milk for the baby. “Yeah, pour me half a glass of wine, Sami.” She deserved a treat, damn it.

“If you’re taking orders,” Devil began, looking hopefully toward Samantha as she poured Molly’s favored Merlot.

“From you?” Sami asked sweetly, lifting an eyebrow at Devil. “You would trust little ole me to serve you?”

“Excellent point. I’ll get it myself,” Devil replied with a tired sigh as he rubbed his temple. “You’d probably poison it anyway.”

“You’re in luck, Satan. I’m fresh out of rat poison tonight. What’ll you have? Scotch?” Sami questioned in a rare display of goodwill. Molly could only silently assume that Samantha might need them to pay her bail later and she’d decided it was better to stay on Dev’s good side for the time being. Either that, or the world was coming to an end, Molly thought as she crossed to get her own glass of Merlot. Given what she’d seen already tonight, it could really go either way.

Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Molly heard Devil quickly say, “There’s a 1984 MacAllan in the bottom left cabinet. If ever there was a call to open that bottle, I’m thinking this is it.”