Page 47 of He Should Be Mine

“It’s not an act.” Molly’s blue eyes narrow.

My teeth grind. “Yes, it is.”

Molly straightens with indignation, but I continue speaking before he can start yelling at me.

“Molly,” I say softly. “You don’t have to be like that with me.”

He blinks. He looks startled. Almost unsure.

“You can be Matthew,” I say.

His face pales. Then it floods with color. He steps towards me, eyes blazing.

“What the fuck do you know? Who the fuck do you think you are to tell me who I am? I’m sorry that me being out, loud and proud, offends you! But if you want me to turn into some nice, quiet boy-next-door, you are gonna have to pay me!”

“Molly, that’s not…”

“Shut up! Just shut up! I don’t need to hear anymore about how much I disgust you!”

He storms past me. I catch his arm and turn him around to face me.

“You don’t disgust me.”

He glares at me. His eyes are sapphire bright with fury. And hurt. A wounded and dismayed look that hits me right in the gut.

“Molly, you do not disgust me. I think you are wonderful.”

His nose scrunches up. “Don’t say shit like that. You just said you didn’t want me to be me.”

“That’s not what I meant at all. I want you to be you, the real you.”

He growls and yanks his arm away from me. “This is the real me, you dipshit!” He backs up a step. “I thought you liked me!”

I open my mouth, but no words come out.

“I thought you liked me, but no. You like some fucked up fantasy in your head. You are all, I bet he is a nice boy really. I bet I can save him and take him away from all of this. Then he will start dressing normally and keeping house and acting like a good wife so I can keep on pretending I’m not really gay!”

His tirade crashes through me with the force of thunder. It shocks my mind to a halt and pins my feet to the floor.

“But that’s not who I am!” Molly makes a noise of pure anger and frustration. Then he is gone. Whirling away from me faster than lightning. His bedroom door slams.

I blink. I’m all alone in the living area.

Is he right? Is that what I want from him? I do want to save him and take him away from all of this, that bit is certainly true. But do I want to shape him into something of my own making? Meld him to fit my own desires? Twist him into something he is not?

I run my hand through my hair.

My plan is to defeat Riccardo. Make Molly mine. Put him in one of my houses and treat him well.

Do I want him to stop being… Molly?

The boy has brittle edges. His tendency to shock and throw off balanceisa show. An armor of deflection. A way of stopping people from getting too close. Or is that just what I’m telling myself?

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I can feel a headache coming on. I need some fresh air, but I’m not leaving Molly while he is like this.

Sighing, I cross over to the balcony doors. It’s not really a balcony, it’s more a glorified window ledge. A Juliette balcony, I think it’s called. Whatever the name, it’s barely big enough for one person to stand on. The badly paintedmetal is a waist high cage bolted onto the side of the building. Given the general construction quality of the apartment, I don’t trust it one bit. So I rarely come out here.

Molly doesn’t use it either. He says it gives him the ick. Whatever the hell ick is.