“Who then?” Matt asked. The only other Molly he knew of was Molly Brown, the unsinkable one. Not a prostitute. No axes either. Wrong century.
“True story,” Molly said. “My mom grew up in Florida.By the early ‘70’s, she was in Jacksonville, going to a lot of dive bars that featured local bands. She started dating this guy in a band called ‘Molly Hatchet.’ Supposedly the band was named after some axe-murdering prostitute ‘Hatchet Molly.’”
“Mom moved in with ‘Molly Hatchet’ guy, got a tramp stamp tattoo on her ass—a big hatchet, got pregnant, got dumped, found a Bible thumper to marry her, and named her daughter ‘Molly Hatchett McGee.’ That’s me. McGee is my stepdad’s last name.”
“Wow!” Matt couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“That’s one word for it.” Molly looked at her watch, stood up. “I’m out of food and it’s close to 5:00, so the Bulls are calling. The point of my story, Mustang, is that I’m named after a lady who got tired of living in a world where men made all the rules and women were expected to clean up their messes. From where I sit, not much has changed. Call me when you work things out with William.”
Chapter 35: Queen Sacrifice
Saturday, January 27, 1996
Evan and Luke were the first GM members to arrive at the clubhouse. Matt greeted them with hugs.
“No one’s happy about this meeting,” Evan said. His eyebrows rippled expressively. “My guess is that everyone, but Paul, had plans for tonight. Luke and I were going to see that new Tarantino movieFrom Dusk ‘til Dawn.”
Luke pointed towards Evan. “Someone has a crush on George Clooney.”
“Not true,” Evan said. “I just like vampire movies.”
“Ask him if he sawInterview with the Vampire,” Luke said.
Matt laughed. “Well, Evan? Did you?”
Evan’s forehead scowled. His eyebrows danced.
Matt’s mind replayed the shape of Evan’s eyebrows as he’d pumped cum into Matt’s mouth. Remembered the creamy goo that had coated his tongue. Recalled that he was honor bound to bottom if/when they ever hooked up again. Felt guilty as though he were betraying Adam by even remembering Evan’s eyebrows or his exquisitely curved cock.
“As far as tonight’s meeting goes,” Evan said, “everyone suspects you’re trying to stage a coup and take down William. I hope that isn’t the plan.”
Matt shook his head, trying to dislodge the memory of wrestling naked on the bed with Evan, each trying to mount the other. “I can assure you no power grab is in the cards. Look, this isn’t how I wanted things to shake out either. I spent two weeks trying to get William to call a meeting.”
It was true. They’d gone round-and-round in an endless loop. William had demanded to know what the meeting was about. Matt had refused to tell him because if William knew it had anything to do with Molly, he would have losthis shit. Lots of “Why can’t you just trust me?” followed by “What are you hiding?” It was a Catch-22.
“I’m not sure invoking Rule 21(B) was the answer,” Evan said. “That’s the nuclear option. There’s a reason it’s never been done before.”
Rule 21(B) allowed any member to invoke a general meeting. It was obviously a mechanism to bypass an ineffective Godmother. Or a stubborn one, if the shoe fit.
“There are things I would rather be doing tonight as well,” Matt said. “But there’s important business we must discuss, and the clock is ticking.”
There were less than eight weeks until March 22nd, fifty-five days, in case anyone was counting. Fifty-five fucking days, and now, because of Molly’s conditions, Matt had to get concessions from the GM, hence the meeting. What else exactly was he supposed to have done when William refused to call this meeting on his own?
The “things” Matt would rather be doing that evening involved Adam. They had not seen each other since New Year’s Day—all because Adam’s dad was having problems coming to terms with “the gay thing,” and Adam was trying to respect that. Kept hoping that, with time, his dad would be accepting.
Matt had begun to despair.
Then, he had received a curious package in the mail that day. Had taken it to his room and unwrapped it—unwrapped the outer package, that is. Found a smaller box inside with a note on top written in Adam’s distinctive, looped cursive “You were in my dreams last night. Don’t open this until you’re alone in your room and I’m on the phone with you.”
Matt’s cock had stood up like a bloodhound having caught a scent. Would have bayed if it had vocal cords.
He would call Adam as soon as this meeting ended.
Matt heard the clubhouse’s front door opening, others arriving, exchanging greetings. Heard William’s distinctive “dahling.”
“On another note,” Evan whispered. “Luke’s concerned that you haven’t shaken hands with him yet.”
Luke blushed and swatted Evan’s arm. “I asked you not to say anything!”
