When You Dare
Page 74
Molly folded her hands together. “He supported them financially, but that was it. I didn’t paint him as a total jerk, but neither was his self-absorbed pity written off as acceptable.”
“And?”
“A male reader was so outraged by my lack of understanding for what the character had gone through, he threatened my life.” Irritation growing, she added, “As if there’s ever any excuse for not taking care of your kids.”
“No, there’s not.” Cautious of her mood, Dare asked, “How’d he threaten you?”
“He wrote me a bunch of letters—twenty or more. All of them were angry, some more insane than the others, but his overall theme was that I needed to be shown what it was to feel real loss before I judged anyone else on their own reactions.” She made a rude sound. “I didn’t tell him that I had lost my mother, so I knew what it felt like to lose a loved one.”
“Good.” To Dare’s mind, it would never be smart to share too much of her private life with her readers. “Anything come of his threats?”
She waved it off. “Not really. I shared the letters with the local police, and they contacted a forensics team. There was some checking done. Other than telling me that the guy was back on his meds, they couldn’t say much because it would have infringed on his rights.”
Dare scowled. “Fucked-up logic, if you ask me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I never heard from him after that.” Restless, she tapped her fingertips on the tabletop. “Then there was the guy who came to every local signing, and he’d buy the same book over and over again. I don’t mean two or three copies, but like…dozens of them. I think in the end he must’ve owned forty or more copies of one title. It was downright creepy.”
Deadpan, Dare said, “He must’ve really liked the book.”
She rolled her eyes. “I finally told him that he had to stop. It was so awkward. For both of us.”
“I can imagine.” Dare took her hand. “How’d he react to that?”
“He got all flustered and stuff. I think he almost cried. But he didn’t show up at any more signings, and as far as I know, he’s never written me since then.”
“As far as you know?”
“A lot of readers send anonymous letters. They don’t sign a name or share an address.” Her lips quirked. “Especially the angry ones.”
“You say this stuff happens all the time?”
She lifted a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve gotten immune to it. I mean, I hate upsetting readers, but it’s just part of the business. What one reader loves another hates.” Her breath released in a sigh. “When that one reader kept telling me that no one would be that forgiving, I just ignored her at first.”
“Her?” Dare cocked a brow. “Do you know that it was a woman?”
“Well…” Molly frowned. “Not really, no. Her letters have all been unsigned and unaddressed, too. It’s just that most of my readers are women.”
“But not all?”
She made a face at him. “Both of the readers I already told you about were guys.”
“So let’s don’t make any assumptions, then.” The coffee machine hissed to a finish, and Dare got up to find the mugs.
Molly went to a different cabinet to retrieve powdered creamer. “I don’t even want to open my refrigerator. I’m afraid what I might find in there.”
Struck by that, Dare looked at her, then went to the fridge.
“I was kidding.”
“Might as well find out if we have anything growing.” He opened the door, but it wasn’t bad at all. “I think your lunchmeat is long gone, and I wouldn’t touch the milk or creamer. But everything else should be okay.” He closed the door again. “You keep a neat refrigerator. No leftovers.”
“Thank God.” She doctored her coffee and went back to the table. “Since it’s just me, I don’t cook much, which means there’s seldom anything left to store.”
Dare opened a few cabinets but didn’t find any snacks.
Apologetic, Molly said, “I’d offer you a cookie or something, but I have no idea what I have anymore.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll order in dinner and if necessary shop tomorrow.”
Stirring her coffee with a spoon, Molly avoided eye contact. “How long will we be here?”
“Not sure yet.” And he wasn’t going to get trapped into trying to decide right now, either. “You know, unless you can think of someone that you’ve had a conflict with lately, your reasoning is as good as anything I can come up with.”
“A conflict?”
Dare shrugged. “Maybe someone who you’re angry at, who you won’t forgive?”
Gazes locking, the same thought occurring to them both, they said in unison, “Adrian.”
Why the hell hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Would her ex have been dumb enough to trash her apartment? Could he have known that Molly was missing?
Could he have arranged her abduction?
Molly scoffed. “No way. I mean, I can’t believe it. Not Adrian. He isn’t the type to—”
A key sounded in the lock on the front door.
Stunned, they both stared in that direction.
Stumped, Molly asked, “Who—?”
“Quiet.” Grabbing her, Dare dragged her down to the floor and behind the kitchen wall, turning off the lights as he went.
“And?”
“A male reader was so outraged by my lack of understanding for what the character had gone through, he threatened my life.” Irritation growing, she added, “As if there’s ever any excuse for not taking care of your kids.”
“No, there’s not.” Cautious of her mood, Dare asked, “How’d he threaten you?”
“He wrote me a bunch of letters—twenty or more. All of them were angry, some more insane than the others, but his overall theme was that I needed to be shown what it was to feel real loss before I judged anyone else on their own reactions.” She made a rude sound. “I didn’t tell him that I had lost my mother, so I knew what it felt like to lose a loved one.”
“Good.” To Dare’s mind, it would never be smart to share too much of her private life with her readers. “Anything come of his threats?”
She waved it off. “Not really. I shared the letters with the local police, and they contacted a forensics team. There was some checking done. Other than telling me that the guy was back on his meds, they couldn’t say much because it would have infringed on his rights.”
Dare scowled. “Fucked-up logic, if you ask me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I never heard from him after that.” Restless, she tapped her fingertips on the tabletop. “Then there was the guy who came to every local signing, and he’d buy the same book over and over again. I don’t mean two or three copies, but like…dozens of them. I think in the end he must’ve owned forty or more copies of one title. It was downright creepy.”
Deadpan, Dare said, “He must’ve really liked the book.”
She rolled her eyes. “I finally told him that he had to stop. It was so awkward. For both of us.”
“I can imagine.” Dare took her hand. “How’d he react to that?”
“He got all flustered and stuff. I think he almost cried. But he didn’t show up at any more signings, and as far as I know, he’s never written me since then.”
“As far as you know?”
“A lot of readers send anonymous letters. They don’t sign a name or share an address.” Her lips quirked. “Especially the angry ones.”
“You say this stuff happens all the time?”
She lifted a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I’ve gotten immune to it. I mean, I hate upsetting readers, but it’s just part of the business. What one reader loves another hates.” Her breath released in a sigh. “When that one reader kept telling me that no one would be that forgiving, I just ignored her at first.”
“Her?” Dare cocked a brow. “Do you know that it was a woman?”
“Well…” Molly frowned. “Not really, no. Her letters have all been unsigned and unaddressed, too. It’s just that most of my readers are women.”
“But not all?”
She made a face at him. “Both of the readers I already told you about were guys.”
“So let’s don’t make any assumptions, then.” The coffee machine hissed to a finish, and Dare got up to find the mugs.
Molly went to a different cabinet to retrieve powdered creamer. “I don’t even want to open my refrigerator. I’m afraid what I might find in there.”
Struck by that, Dare looked at her, then went to the fridge.
“I was kidding.”
“Might as well find out if we have anything growing.” He opened the door, but it wasn’t bad at all. “I think your lunchmeat is long gone, and I wouldn’t touch the milk or creamer. But everything else should be okay.” He closed the door again. “You keep a neat refrigerator. No leftovers.”
“Thank God.” She doctored her coffee and went back to the table. “Since it’s just me, I don’t cook much, which means there’s seldom anything left to store.”
Dare opened a few cabinets but didn’t find any snacks.
Apologetic, Molly said, “I’d offer you a cookie or something, but I have no idea what I have anymore.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll order in dinner and if necessary shop tomorrow.”
Stirring her coffee with a spoon, Molly avoided eye contact. “How long will we be here?”
“Not sure yet.” And he wasn’t going to get trapped into trying to decide right now, either. “You know, unless you can think of someone that you’ve had a conflict with lately, your reasoning is as good as anything I can come up with.”
“A conflict?”
Dare shrugged. “Maybe someone who you’re angry at, who you won’t forgive?”
Gazes locking, the same thought occurring to them both, they said in unison, “Adrian.”
Why the hell hadn’t he thought of that sooner? Would her ex have been dumb enough to trash her apartment? Could he have known that Molly was missing?
Could he have arranged her abduction?
Molly scoffed. “No way. I mean, I can’t believe it. Not Adrian. He isn’t the type to—”
A key sounded in the lock on the front door.
Stunned, they both stared in that direction.
Stumped, Molly asked, “Who—?”
“Quiet.” Grabbing her, Dare dragged her down to the floor and behind the kitchen wall, turning off the lights as he went.
