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Remy slams the driver’s side shut and snorts. “Fine. I’ve been taking her out once a week or so. Otherwise, keeping it in the garage out back.”
“Thanks. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened to it if I left it sitting here.” I gesture to the apartment building’s small parking lot as Remy fires up the engine.
I cock my head, listening to the throaty rumble, a slight smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.
“Told you I took care of her.” Remy shifts into reverse and eases out of the parking spot.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “Molly’s car still at Jerry’s?”
“Yup.” His tone’s clipped, intended to stop any additional questions.
“I’ll need to go look at it and?—”
“It’s been there all summer.” He flips the blinker on and makes a left out of the lot. “It’ll be fine for a few more days.”
“I guess.”
“Eraser and I cleaned up the mess.”
Well, shit. Now I feel bad for ragging on Eraser’s haircut the other day. “How bad was it?”
“Bad.” He blows out a long, irritated breath. “I really don’t want to talk about it, though.”
Tough shit. I had to go weeks without knowing what the fuck happened. “Jesus, Remy. Did she really go at it with a bat?”
He glances at me sideways. “Yes.”
“Did she get hurt?”
“Her arms were sore for a few days.” He taps the side of his fist against the steering wheel. “And I think she had a few scratches. But most of the damage was to her pride. Oh, and her broken heart,” he adds with a murderous glance in my direction.
“Remy, you know I never?—”
“You know where I found her that day after I talked to you?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer. “At the fucking airport trying to leave town.”
I open my mouth, then close it as that sinks in. Molly must’ve been in a bad way if she wanted to leave home and get on a plane all by herself.
“Then she had to deal with every nosy fuck around here asking her about you or the show. She worked three fucking jobs all summer so she didn’t have to see her friends.”
No, I bet she did that to keep herself busy, not just to avoid her friends. “Where?” I’m ashamed I have to ask the question. That’s information I should already know. “Besides the clinic and Miller’s Farms?”
“The internship at the hearing aid clinic wasn’t so bad,” he answers. “Apparently their clients aren’t the target audience for cage fighter reality shows.”
“Well, thank fuck for that,” I mutter.
“She kept her shifts at the grocery store. But so many people bugged her there, they ended up moving her to the flower shop where she didn’t have to deal with a lot of customers and the other cashiers.”
“Shit.”
“Eh.” He lifts his shoulders. “She said it wasn’t too busy, so she got a lot of reading done.”
At least that sounds like something Molly would say.
“She helped me out at the bar most nights and on the weekends after Miller’s,” he continues.
“She always wanted you to let her work there.” It’s not the safest environment, though. Remy’s had his share of unexpected events. “Was she okay? Customers didn’t bother her, right?”
“We had a few issues. But they were dealt with.”
