One Week Early

The doorbell rang. I opened it expecting a delivery man. “Wha—”

“Close the door.” Molly had already pushed past me into the foyer. She sat on the ground panting hard. I stood in front of her, finally getting a good look at her face. Blood and dirt was caked onto her clothing and up her neck. Splatters of something clumpy covered her cheeks and her hair was in two messy braids. She was holding her stomach, and her breaths became slow and controlled. Like they were painful.

“Molly what the hell?” I whispered. She took a deep breath.

“Lock the doors, close the curtains.” When I just stood there wide eyed, she added, “Please.” I nodded, and ran around the house for a couple minutes closing blinds, locking windows and doors, and even placing heavy objects over air conditioning and heating vents. When I got back to the foyer, she wasn’t there. The door to the basement was ajar and the light was on. I rushed downstairs. 

“Molly, please, what is going on?” I was louder this time. 

She took deep breaths and winced in between each word now. I glanced at her stomach. Blood was covering her hands that were pressed hard against her side. Her hands were almost black with something and now blood was dripping down her leg.

“I—'' 

I didn’t let her finish. “What is wrong with your stomach? C’mon, we’re going to the hospital.”

“No.” she gasped.

“Ok, I’m gonna call Ky—”

“No. He can’t know I was here”

“Was? You're not leaving in this state. I’m going to CVS. You need bandages.”

“I can’t, I can’t stay. They’ll know. I have to leave.” I was rigid. Who was going to know? Were they going to come here? I told her she could leave once I fixed her up. I didn’t know how I was going to do that.

I sat in traffic too long. CVS was just out of convenient walking distance, but traffic was always so bad. Kyle and I had gotten married only a couple months ago. His sister Molly had already wormed her way into staying with us for two months so she could apartment hunt. Kyle was very protective of her, so he was all for Molly staying with us. She was supposed to come next week, but obviously something went wrong. I called Kyle to ask him to pick up dinner from Sea Shack on the way home. Hoping this would prolong his commute back for an hour. Another hour to help Molly.

Half an hour later I was turning back into my driveway with everything I could think to get. I ran into my house terrified to see the door slightly ajar. I wanted to scream for Molly but something told me that was wrong. Calling for Kyle felt wrong too. I decided to call for Lindsay. She was my best friend, and most likely not at my house. But I very knowingly played dumb in case someone dangerous was inside looking for Molly.

“Lindsay? Lindsay, are you here?” I yelled into the dark abyss of my home. To my huge relief and surprise, Lindsay answered. 

“Hey! Sorry I texted you but you didn’t respond, and so anyway I needed a wrench. No one’s home so I just used the spare key.”

“No one’s here?” 

“No. Why, was someone here?”

“Um, just Kyle. He took a day off but was talking about how he might go into the office later. He must have decided to go.”

“Dude, what’s up with your hands? Let me take your bags.” I looked down. I couldn’t stop shaking. Lindsay grabbed the bags from me. She hoisted them up onto the kitchen counter and one flopped over. Bandages, gauges, and disinfectants spilled out. 

“Geez Layla, are you treating a bullet wound?” She giggled. I very well could be. Molly could be bleeding out.

“Ha, no. Ya know, just stuff for the new house. Wanted to stock up.” Lindsay nodded but something in her eyes told me she saw my covered-up panic.

“Well, anyway, I best be off. Thanks.” She said, holding up the wrench that had been sitting on the counter and walked out the door. I closed and locked it behind her. 

“Molly?!” A bang came from upstairs. I sprinted up to the bathroom with my bags, where I could see Molly’s face behind the shower curtain. She was definitely in worse condition. I rolled her out of the tub and onto the tile floor. I moved her hands ever so slightly to see a fleshy wound snaking up her side. I pulled an old Vicodin bottle out of the medicine cabinet, shoved a couple down her throat, and took a wet washcloth to the wound. There was a lot of dirt. Molly writhed in pain. The pills slowly kicked in, and her kicking and screaming slowed. After I had disinfected the wound and wrapped her side, we both lay there in shock. Molly was still awake. She was staring at the ceiling with wide eyes. I turned my head to face her.

“Please tell me,” I whispered.

“I have to go.”

“Molly, you’re barely alive. Please.” She closed her eyes and took a breath.

“My friend... got me out of a sticky situation in college. I owed him a lot of money. I didn’t know who his family was. That they were bad. Like the Mafia and, I... I couldn’t pay. They made me—.” She stopped.

“Please Molly, keep going.”

“I had to repay them in other ways,” She choked out. “I did jobs for them. Talk to this person, deal with them and so on. Never bad.” She took a long, deep, shaky breath. “Then the ‘jobs’ got worse. I was hurting people, mothers, fathers, spouses.” I noticed Molly’s eyes brimming with tears. “I killed someone,” she whispered. I was tense. I knew she could feel it.

“I went to tell them I was done working for them. They wouldn’t let me. They hurt me. I didn't know where else to go. I knew Kyle wouldn’t be home, but I have to go.” Molly was all of a sudden quiet.

“Why can’t Kyle know? He could help you more than me!”

“You can’t know. You need to be safe.”

“What does Kyle have to do with any of this!” I half-yelled. I was sick of Molly keeping me in the dark. I sat up to see Kyle standing in the doorway. He was smiling. Something I didn’t expect to see from someone walking into a bloody bathroom. Molly whimpered beside me.

Kyle was laughing now. To my terror he pulled out a gun. I jumped back, and was clutching the bathtub.

“So, Molly didn’t tell you, huh? I didn’t want you to be involved in this but Molly’s always gotta mess things up.” He now spoke to Molly directly,

“You have a debt you need to pay. Pulling Layla into our business was bad, Molly. You were here to stay with us so I could keep you in line.” I was shaking so hard. They aren’t siblings. Kyle was the friend Molly knew in college. Making a very conscious decision, I reached out and took Molly’s hand. Kyle chuckled. We looked at each other. I squeezed her hand hard. Tears in both of our eyes. Two shots fired. Only one person is leaving.