Page 86 of Redeeming 6

“Joe?” Molloy finally whispered, an hour or so into the movie. “I need to tell you something.”

“Hmm?” I turned to look at her, relieved that she was finally making conversation. “Yeah?”

“I’m…” Her green eyes were wide and full of panic. “I’m…”

“You’re what, Molloy?”

“Scared.” Exhaling a shaky breath, she shook her head and reached for my arm, draping it over her shoulders as she leaned into my side. “I’m really scared.”

“It’s just a film,” I whispered, tightening my arm around her. “It’s not real life. Don’t let it freak you out.”

“I know.” Shivering, she buried her face in my chest, and fisted the front of my hoodie in her hand. “I’m just… I’m still scared.”

Confused, I looked down at the way she was clinging to me and felt even more uneasy than before. The way she was acting was all wrong. None of this sat well with me, because this was the same girl who loved gore and horror in movies.

“Do you want to leave?”

She shook her head.

“I can take you home.”

Another headshake.

“You’re clearly miserable.”

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Then what do you want from me, Molloy?” I asked, feeling helpless. “What can I do here?”

“You can stay,” she squeezed out, and a shudder rolled through her. “I want you to stay with me, Joe.”

“I’m staying,” I replied, expelling a frustrated breath. “I’m not going anywhere.”

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Later that night, as I drove us home from the cinema in Mahon Point, I watched from the corner of my eye, as Molloy stared out the passenger window, clearly lost in thought as Bell X1’s “Eve, the Apple of My Eye” played on the local radio station.

“I’ll drive you home,” I told her, breaking the silence. “And I’ll walk home from your place.”

She swung her gaze to me. “You’re not staying the night?”

“Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because if I wanted to get the cold shoulder, then I can get plenty of those at home,” I replied, hand tightening on the wheel.

“It’s not like that, Joe,” she croaked out. “It’s not.”

“Then what’s it like, Molloy?” I demanded hoarsely. “Huh? What’s happening with you?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, retreating back to her perch of staring out the window and ignoring me. “I love you, Joe.”

“Yeah, and I love you back,” I admitted, feeling frustrated and pissed off and anxious all in one breath. “But I don’t understand what’s happening here. With you. Between us. I don’t fucking like it.”

“Don’t go home tonight,” she said after a long stretch of silence. “Please.”

“I’m not staying at your house.”

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