One of my favorite parts of White Lies was Heidi and Murphy’s trip to the track, especially Heidi’s conversation with Molly. Griff and Molly are two characters I’ve been working on for close to two years now, and I just love them! Here’s a sweet, quick glimpse one particular scene from their perspective…unedited and copyright me, 2019.
GRIFF
“Take it off!” someone behind me yells.
Remy smacks my arm to get my attention. Guess my boredom is obvious.
“What?“ I snap.
He smirks at the girls doing their best stripper impression in front of us. As if I could miss them.
I can’t even fake any interest. I’m too busy searching the track for Molly. Remy should have brought her home after the races ended. Not let her wander around and stay for the party that’s about to get a whole lot rowdy.
“We doing this support club shit Murphy suggested?” I ask Remy, trying to ignore Shelly’s striptease.
“It makes sense,” Remy says without taking his eyes off of the girls gyrating in front of us.
My anxiety over Molly’s whereabouts spikes. She doesn’t need to see this and it’s the last thing I want to be a part of right now.
There she is.
Her dark hair and dark T-shirt almost blend into the night.
“Yeah!” the rowdy bastards around me shout, drawing my attention to the sight in front of me.
Shelly pulls her friend’s top down. Her perfectly pear-shaped tits bounce free. Nipples straining skyward from the cold. The idiots around me whistle and chant for Shelly to strip off her top too.
“You think we’re making a good impression on Murphy and his crew right now?” I say to Remy.
Like the fuckwit he can be sometimes, he snorts at the question. “You have any idea what their MC parties are like?” He cocks his head. “Since when are you so uptight?”
I flick my gaze toward the girls. “You forget Molly’s here?”
For a second, a flicker of regret flashes in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let her come.”
“Why? She has fun here.” I wave my hand at the pre-orgy happening in front of us. “Before this shit starts up.”
“Remy,” Shelly coos and curls her finger. “I have a present for you.”
Well, that’s the last I’ll have of Remy’s attention for the next fifteen to twenty minutes.
Soft fingers brush my cheek. I turn, expecting to find Molly for some reason but I’m greeted by Lyra—a ring girl from our underground fight circle. “What’s up, Griff?”
“Nothing.” My gruff tone makes her back up a step. She’s not working for me tonight at The Castle and I have no interest hooking up with her, tonight or any night, so I don’t waste energy being polite about the brush off. She’s a tough chick. She’ll survive.
More than anything, I want to get her away from me before Molly sees us together.
My gaze scans the field again and lands on Molly. Only she’s not alone now. Murphy’s old lady’s sitting by the bonfire, keeping her company. I’d say that’s nice and all but more than likely Murphy sent his girl over to scope out Molly. I’m not sure Remy’s given sufficient thought to how much we’ll be under the thumb of the Lost Kings MC if we form a support club for them. Eraser had also shown more interest than I expected.
As much as I respect Murphy, and Heidi seems like a nice enough girl, I don’t want anyone with ulterior motives getting close to Molly.
Except me, of course.
“I’ll give Molly a ride home,” I say to Griff.
“Now?” he raises one dark eyebrow.
Shelly’s already on her knees in the grass working Remy’s belt loose. Not exactly something I need to stick around for.
“Yeah, now.” My tone’s dry, irritated with my best friend.
He holds out his fist. “Thanks, bro.”
I tap my knuckles against his and take off. My pace slows as I approach Molly and Heidi, wanting to assess the situation. Molly with her knees drawn up to her chest, head turned away from where I’d been standing with her brother seconds ago. She seems at ease talking to Heidi, though.
I hesitate. Maybe I should leave them alone. Molly’s mother is long gone. She doesn’t have a whole lot of friends her age. Heidi’s older but she’s about to graduate from college. Molly could have worse influences, I suppose.
Then I catch her shiver. If nothing else, she needs a fucking jacket or something.
I move closer to the girls. “You want me to drop you off at home, Muffin?” I call out, using the nickname I’ve called since…well, forever.
Both of them turn and stare up at me. Molly doesn’t exactly seem thrilled by my presence. The look of annoyance flips my annoy-best-friend’s-little-sister switch on and I lean over to rub my hand over the top of her head. Something I know damn well drives her nuts.
“Ugh, stop.” She slaps me away and I can’t help laughing. “I don’t want to go home. I’m freezing though.”
The snap of fire in her eyes and the pouty curve of her lips renders me stupid. Eager to do anything to make her happy.
“I’d go sit in Remy’s car, but I’m sure he’ll be using it tonight,” she adds.
Heidi cough-laughs and I wink at her. This girl knows what’s up and isn’t disgusted by our behavior. Guess it’d make her a bit of a hypocrite if she was. I’ve been to the Lost Kings’ clubhouse and their parties make this look like a high school musical.
Molly’s discomfort’s still my main concern. “Here.” I pull my sweatshirt off and drop it in Molly’s lap.
RIP, favorite hoodie. Fuck knows, I’ll never see it again once Molly gets her hands on it. Doesn’t matter. I like the idea of her wearing my shit, especially to school, where it can serve as a warning to horny little assholes to stay the fuck away.
Molly
My heart stutters as the warmth of Griff’s sweatshirt chases the chill out of my bones. I snuggle into his hoodie, taking a quick hit of his scent—soap, gasoline, and an essence unique to him.
With both Heidi and Griff staring at me, I don’t dare do anything weird or creepy like rub my face against the fabric, even though I’m dying to.
Griff holds out one beat-up hand to me. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Thank God.
A bunch of butterflies jab and weave through my stomach as I picture being alone with Griff. In his car.
Too nervous to take his hand and too overwhelmed with something I can’t name, I lean over and hug Heidi instead. “Hopefully, I’ll see you again?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound too pitiful.
She doesn’t shy away from the embrace as I feared. “Yeah, I think we’ll be seeing each other.”
“Cool.” I always envied Heidi when I was a freshman and she was a senior. She always seemed so cool and aloof. Doing her own thing and not caring what anyone thought of her. Plus, her brother rode a badass motorcycle and used to pick her up every Friday afternoon, something that spurred lots of gossip among our small-minded classmates.
Griff has a motorcycle too, but he’s never let me ride on the back. Not even once.
He does let me drive his vintage muscle car here at the track whenever I want, so I don’t hold the lack of motorcycle rides against him.
“Can I drive?” I ask, dancing around him on the way to the car.
“Not on the open road.” He bops the tip of my nose. “You don’t have a license.”
Since Remy didn’t have actual legal custody of me and our father was a drunk loser, there were no responsible adults to take me to get a license. Something Griff obviously remembers if the sorrow glittering in his eyes is any indication.
“You’ll be an expert once you get it,” he says, easing the sting of his pity eyes.
“I raced an eleven point three tonight.”
“And you’re gonna lose that license as soon as you get it.” He laughs as he holds open the passenger door for me.
“Nah, you’ll ask Brady to get me out of trouble.”
He shakes his head, neither confirming or denying my statement.
“Griff!” My brother’s voice carries easily over the field.
I squeeze my eyes shut and throw a quick prayer up into the universe. Please send Remy back to his blow job queens. Let me have a few moments with Griff alone.
I love my brother but he’s a cock-blocker.
Not that I…or Griff…or we…ever.
I hurry to get in the passenger seat and buckle myself in, hoping it reduces the chances of Remy deciding to drive me home instead.
The two of them move to the back of the car. Their lowered voices reach me but I can’t make out what they’re talking about.
“You all right, Molly?” Remy leans into my open window. Cheap perfume— something between cotton candy and cough syrup clings to him—choking me.
“You reek of bad decisions, big brother.”
“Noted.” He taps his knuckles against my shoulder, forcing me to turn my head. “I won’t be late. Just need to stick around here a bit longer.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, sure.”
“Will you be okay?”
No, but I’ll die before admitting it. I glare at him instead. “I might ask Ava to come over.”
He groans and casts a look at Griff. “I won’t be that long.”
“Whatever, bro.” The irritation in Griff’s muffled voice is clear.
Am I a burden? Griff’s the one who offered to drive me home, I didn’t ask him to give up his night of fun.
Griff
The ride to Remy’s house takes less than twenty minutes. All dark, winding back roads. A journey I know well.
I pull up to the curb in front of Remy’s place. No one left the porch light on.
Molly darts a quick glance at the house, then faces forward, staring straight through the windshield.
“Come on, I’ll walk you in.” I pop open my door and jog to Molly’s side.
“Can’t we go somewhere?” she asks as I hold her door open.
“Where you wanna go at this hour, muffin? Nothing’s open ‘round here.”
With a heavy sigh, she pulls herself out of the car. Fear and sadness swim in her eyes as she flicks her gaze toward the house again.
Against my better judgment, I reach out and brush my knuckles over her soft cheek. “Don’t you trust me? I’d never let anyone mess with my girl.”
That gets a flicker of a smile out of her. It’s not an empty promise, either. If I ever find her father here, I’ll take him apart with my bare hands and Remy will be more than happy to help me bury his father’s dismembered body.
“Come on.” This time she curls her fingers around mine and I lead her inside.
She flips on all the lights while I quickly sweep the house, checking closets and under the beds.
Just in case.
“Want me to stick around until Remy gets back?”
She shrugs and tries to act indifferent. “You don’t have to.”
I hate leaving her by herself but being alone with her is its own special hell and temptation.
“Am I going to get my shirt back?” I gesture toward my sweatshirt, knowing damn well she won’t give it up.
Finally, a hint of a smile. “I’m still cold.”
“You want muffins tomorrow?” Damn if I understood why she loves blueberry muffins with so much intensity, but her face lights up every time I bring them over. As if I held the world in a small, grease-stained paper bag.
Her lips curve. “Yes, please.”
I’ll admit, I’m addicted to making her eyes glow with happiness.
She lets out a yawn and I nod to the stairs. “Go on up. I’ll be down here.”
For a second I think she’s going to argue but then she presses close and wraps her arms around me. She smells like burning wood with a hint of vanilla underneath. That’s Molly, fire and sweetness. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“For?”
She pulls back and tugs at her sleeves. Her lips twitch with mischief. “For my new hoodie, what else?”