We Told Six Lies(81)

Molly is standing over him.

Molly has the knife in her hand.

I step toward her as my pulse kicks along my neck.

She points the knife toward him and says something. Then she gets down on her knees and lays the blade against his neck.

“Molly,” I say, but I’m not sure why I say it. My brother hates me. And I love her. This could be the perfect end to this nightmare.

But even as I think this, something unnamable rolls in my stomach. I don’t want this blood on her hands. And I don’t want to watch my brother die, either, even if I thought I did.

A sound crashes over my shoulder, and I turn to find three police cruisers pulling in next to my truck. Doors fly open, and guns are drawn, and officers move in toward the scene.

“Molly,” I say again, louder, and watch as she gets to her feet.

She says one last thing as the officers yell for her to get back, drop the weapon, get on the ground!

Holt sees the police.

Holt sees Molly.

Resentment twists his face, and he dives toward Molly. He rips the knife from her unsuspecting grasp and lifts it into the air as the police yell and I yell, too, and the entire world pivots one-quarter inch to the right.

A shot is fired.





NOW


Blood bursts from Holt’s shoulder.

The police are there in an instant. They are hauling him up, calling for an ambulance, grabbing Molly and me and pulling us away from the scene. Detectives Hernandez and Tehrani are there. They are asking, Are you two okay? Are you okay? And to me they say, Your mother told us everything, and to Molly, they add, We’re calling your mom to let her know we’ve got you.

At this, Molly clenches her eyes shut. When she reopens them, her gaze falls on me. She breaks away from Detective Hernandez and moves toward me like it’s the first time she’s seen me. She throws herself into my arms, and I wrap her up. I’m afraid I’ll never let her go. I’m afraid I’ll squeeze the life out of her right after I’ve found her alive.

“Cobain,” she says, and grabs my face to make me understand.

“I know.” I take the blanket Detective Tehrani hands me and wrap it around Molly’s shoulders. She lays her head against my chest, and I am whole again.

Detective Hernandez puts a comforting hand on Molly’s back and asks, “Molly, I know what you’ve been through has been very hard. But I need to ask if Holt Kelly is the person who brought you here, and if he did so against your will.”

Molly glances up, and she searches for Holt. When she finds him, their eyes meet. Holt looks at her with such anger and such longing that a chill rushes across my skin.

“Molly,” he roars. “Molly!”

There’s a strange look in her eyes as she watches the police dragging him away. There’s anger on her face to be sure, but there’s also something…softer. Understanding. She doesn’t look at him like a monster but as someone who needs help. It’s the same look I saw on my parents’ faces growing up. When I look at him now—when I really look at him—I don’t see Holt, happy and Holt, blue. I only see my brother. I am not afraid of him anymore. I am afraid of his illness.

It’s different.

As Holt calls Molly’s name over and over and reaches for her as the police struggle to get him into cuffs, her face twists with conflict.

“Molly?” I say.

“Yes, that’s him,” she answers the detective suddenly. “And yes, he took me against my will.” She glances at me and then at Detective Hernandez. “What will happen to him?”

“He’ll be in our custody until he goes to trial,” Detective Hernandez says. “Don’t worry. He won’t be getting near you again.”

Molly’s gaze flicks to Holt once again, and I pull her tighter as they put a hand on Holt’s head and push him into the car. He’s still calling her name. Saying he’s sorry. Saying he needs to tell her something. Saying, “That’s my brother. He’s my brother!”

His words drift down to the pond, lift that forgotten blade, and drive it into my chest.

“You got her?” Detective Hernandez asks me.

I pull myself together and nod. She jogs over to where Detective Tehrani is closing the car door on a man I’ll never think of as my brother.

Molly wraps her hand around the arch of my neck and brings me back to her. She looks…sad.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She gives me a weak smile and nods. “I am now.”

And then, she says something I don’t expect but always felt blazing across every inch of her. “Cobain, I love you. I’m so sorry I told you I didn’t. I’m so sorry for everything.”

I grasp her face in my hands and say the things I’ve imagined telling her since that night in the woods. “I know. And I’ll never let anything bad happen to you ever again. We’ll be happy. I promise.”

Tears prick her eyes, and I know, I know, words alone won’t be enough. She’s heard too many words, too many lies. So have I. Our lives are full of them.

How did we even get here? Would any of this have happened if we’d been honest with each other? Of all the lies, both big and small, which one hurt us the worst?

Was it when I lied to the police about how we met? They might not have doubted me if I’d told the truth.