CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Michaela
After checking every room in the house three times to find that I was very much alone despite Holden’s insistence that Delilah had returned, I spent the majority of the day sitting on the couch with my head in my hands, my thoughts completely scattered by the impossibility of the situation. There were two main exits in the house: the front and back doors, both of which would require Delilah to walk past or through the living room. It would have been impossible for her to leave without me seeing her, unless she’d crawled out a window. But really? The likelihood was slim to none. Even if she hated me, I couldn’t imagine Delilah doing something as drastic as that.
Which only left one explanation for her absence: Delilah had never returned home in the first place.
I didn’t like that explanation, only because it raised serious questions about Holden that I didn’t want to consider. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I did during the course of the day. I considered, and it wasn’t until Holden returned home that my worries for him were confirmed.
The front door swung open at ten thirty that night, Holden moving through as a dark mass in his winter jacket, hoodie and beanie. His boots tracked snow through the front entrance hall, his face a mask of concern when he took the time to look at me.
Dinner boiled on the stove. Nothing fancy. Just pasta. But it was warm, and it was almost ready. He didn’t bother asking when it would be time to eat. As soon as our eyes met, a shadow flashed behind his gaze. Anger. Guilt. Worry. He looked away.
“Hey,” I called out, my voice soft and unassuming.
“Hey,” he answered, his eyes refusing to meet mine again. Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped it over a half wall that lined the entrance hall. “I need to get a shower and thaw out. I’ll be right back.”
Before he could disappear into his room, he called out, “Do me a favor and turn on the television. There’s something you need to see.” With that he closed the door, leaving me standing by the couch, the television screen black because I hadn’t bothered to watch it all day. I was too busy...considering.
Now I had something else to consider, and by Holden’s behavior, I didn’t think I’d be happy about it. The remote was in my hand within the next second. The television coming to life. The reporter’s voice an echo throughout the room as my own face stared back at me.
“Former high school football Captain, Jack Thorne was last seen at Tranquil Falls diner with Michaela Paige on Saturday, December eleventh. According to witness reports, Jack Thorne was accosted by an employee of the diner, Holden Bishop. Sources have confirmed Holden Bishop attempted to sue Mr. Thorne two years ago following a car accident that injured Mr. Bishop. At this time, authorities are asking for any information residents may have regarding the whereabouts of Jack Thorne and Michaela Paige. Police have not officially named a suspect, and at this time have only commented that this is an ongoing missing persons case. They would not confirm whether foul play is suspected...”
The reporter’s face was replaced by a video of my parents and Jack’s parents walking from the police station. Not a single tear was shed between the four of them, only matching expressions of concern. Reporters approached them and our parents turned to face the cameras, their postures astute, their expressions professional. A barrage of questions were being asked and rather than appearing as concerned parents for the welfare of their missing children, they looked as if they were out for dinner, the reporters an annoying distraction more akin to paparazzi than anything else. I knew my parents didn’t care much what happened to me. Like Jack’s parents, they were more concerned with what happened to Jack. Their clipped answers to the reporters’ questions proved as much. To the town, Jack’s disappearance had already been pinned on Holden. I turned the television off.
“The truth doesn’t matter. It never does for men like me. We’re disposable. An easy answer to lock away so the police look like heroes and Jack Thorne will be remembered as the helpless victim against a crazy freak who wanted revenge for an accident. Your truth is meaningless. It’s as weak as you. To everybody that matters, it’s an inconvenience that will be shoved aside and forgotten.”
Holden’s words from the night I woke in his bedroom echoed in my head, the striking truth that Jack had always been the golden child in this town. He was the most popular at school, the star quarterback, the son of the richest man in Tranquil Falls. Even I couldn’t hold a candle to Jack’s importance, and Holden, in comparison, was nothing more than an afterthought, the crazy freak in a town where money, power, and popularity were all that mattered. He was garbage they wouldn’t care to toss away. Only I knew the truth that, compared to Jack, Holden was a man to be admired, a man the town should have taken pride in, a man with so much talent that, given the chance, he would make a mark on history for his unique view of the world.
And maybe that’s why this town had hated him so much. Instead of bowing down, instead of folding and giving in to the pressure of our demands, Holden remained true to himself and he was the only person who had the ability to see us for who we were beneath all the money, the expensive clothes, the makeup and perfectly practiced smiles.
Holden saw us, and he was never impressed with what he found. We’d attempted to destroy him because of it.
But not me. Not anymore. Now, more than ever, I was determined to speak out, to do what was right, to protect Holden from the entire world if that’s what it took to ensure that his light would continue to shine.
“How could you stay silent knowing what those guys were doing to so many girls? Why have all of you stayed silent?”
I’d made a promise to him, hadn’t I? And in this instance, just like everything else, I had a duty to stand up for what I knew was right, and to raise my voice in objection of what I knew was cruel and wrong.
The police would attempt to pin Jack’s disappearance on Holden. And I would make sure that they looked for their answers somewhere else.
Epiphanies are startling moments. Like tennis balls lobbed in your direction by life, they come with a message scrawled across their surface, an answer that you can either choose to catch and read, or bat away in fear of learning some truth that may be painful or uncomfortable. I was catching that ball now, and when I turned it over in my hands to find the script scrawled across it, an answer came to my mind about what I had to do to help Holden, to save him, to put all the pieces back together that this town had slowly chipped away.
I would turn myself into the police in order to shield Holden, and I would give them a story as to what happened to Jack, a story that would take the spotlight off of Holden and turn it in the direction of this fucked up town.
But I couldn’t do it on my own, only because there was one other complication I wasn’t sure anybody but me knew: Delilah wasn’t in this house, and I was beginning to suspect that she never was.
I had to find somebody to help me that Holden would trust, and I believed I knew just who that person would be. Getting to her without being seen would be tough, but I was determined to find a way.
Holden’s bedroom door popped open. Our eyes met, his full of apology, mine full of resolve. The room came into sharp focus, the sound of a pot boiling on the stove drawing my attention back to the here and now. Frozen in place, I stared at a man I understood was worth everything.
“Hey,” I whispered in repeat of our earlier greeting.
“Hey,” he whispered back, the sound barely carrying across the room. “Did you see it?”
Nodding, I attempted a smile, but only one corner of my mouth was strong enough to curl. “I saw it.”
“My time’s up,” he said, resignation settled into every syllable. “Our time is up.”
Rolling back my shoulders, I grinned, not in sadness, not in defeat, but in fierce denial that time would end for us. Shaking my head just slightly, I argued, “Your time is beginning. You just don’t know it yet.”
Tucking his hands in the pockets of his jeans, he leaned back against the wall, his blue eyes locked to my face, his lips curling in sorrow. “Michaela-“
I held up a hand to silence him. “No. Don’t Michaela me. I know what I need to do...for you, for this town and for myself.”
Stepping towards him, I tried not to lose my mind at the sight of a broad chest and perfectly toned abs, tried to ignore the flutter of want deep down inside me. Holden and I had plenty of time left to explore each other, but at this particular moment, those desires would have to be set aside. I spoke as I approached him. “I have a plan to make this right, Holden. And all I need from you is a promise.”
He didn’t move from his position against the wall, instead staying in place so that I could trap him there, wrap my fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and tug his body close to mine. Pressed together, our hearts beat in tandem, both fear and want colliding inside me, my determination strengthening, my decision made.
Skepticism arched his brow. “A promise?”
Nodding, I answered, “Mm-hmm, just like you made me give you.”
“And what is this promise?”
I stared at him for what felt like hours. “That when the time comes for all of this to come tumbling down, you’ll claim to know nothing, you’ll say nothing, you’ll simply tell everybody that I showed up on your doorstep one night and you took me in.”
“Michaela-“
Pressing my fingers against his mouth, I hushed him. “I already told you not to do that.” Pausing, I waited until his eyes met mine again. “Holden, I know how to fix this, and in keeping with the promise I made to you, I need to speak out about something I know is wrong. But the only way I can do that is if you promise to keep your mouth shut and trust me.”
His head fell back against the wall. I pulled my hand away. The pot continued boiling on the stove, the house still except for the food that was cooking. “Can you do that for me?” I whispered.
“I’m not sure,” he answered honestly. “I won’t let you take the blame for this.”
My lips twitched. “I’m not taking the blame for anything. I didn’t do anything wrong. I was a victim that night...just as much as you. And all you did was help me.”
Concern etched his expression. “What are you planning to do?”
“I’m planning on finishing cooking dinner tonight, for starters. And then I’m planning on feeding you. What I have planned for tomorrow is a secret. But it won’t work unless you promise me to never say anything about seeing Jack that night. When it comes to what you know, I showed up with a swollen face and bruises and begged to be allowed to stay. I’ll take care of the rest of it.”
Holden pushed away from the wall, thus pushing me back a step. He towered over me, forcing me to crane my neck to keep eye contact. “They’ve already interviewed me, Michaela. I told them I didn’t know where Jack was-“
“Did they ask about me? Specifically?”
Shaking his head, he admitted, “No, it was mostly about Jack.”
As usual, I was an afterthought, a girl trapped beneath the shadow of Jack Thorne. I’d always been that girl, so it wasn’t a surprise. And I would use that knowledge to step out from beneath the shadow. “Promise me, Holden. Promise me that you’ll tell them exactly what I said.”
His eyes searched my face, defeat finally settling behind his blue eyes. “Fine. But the minute I hear they’re blaming you for his death, I’m telling the truth.”
“You don’t need to worry. I know what needs to be done to fix this. I won’t let this town hurt you anymore. I flat out refuse. It’s about time Jack, and everybody else who think they rule Tranquil Falls, are brought to their knees and forced to answer for what they’ve done, for what they’ve been doing for far too long.”
“Fine, I promise you. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you go to prison for this.”
“I know. Just ... trust me, okay?”
He nodded, swallowing hard because the promise went against every protective instinct Holden had inside him. “You said something about dinner?”
Soft laughter burst from my mouth. “Yeah. I’ll pull it off the stove and make our plates.”
“What about Deli? Has she come out of her room at all today?”
Heart squeezed to a standstill within my chest, I closed my eyes and opened them again slowly. Not knowing what to say or do, not understanding fully what was going on when it came to his sister, I answered truthfully, leaving my statement open ended just so I would know for sure. “No, she hasn’t come out.”
Because she’s not here... I didn’t say.
I had to remind myself to take this situation one problem at a time. “I’ll go start on the food. You go check on your sister.”
Nodding, he stalked off down the hall while I made my way into the kitchen. Five minutes later, he was walking toward me, a plate of uneaten food in his hand. Dropping it on the counter, he looked pained...worried. “She won’t come out and she didn’t even touch the food I took her this morning.”
A frustrated sigh blew out of him as my heart lurched again to realize that Holden believed his sister was here. He saw her. He spoke to her. But, Delilah was nowhere to be found.
I had to fight to keep the tears from dripping from my eyes, to keep my expression blank while staring at a man who was far more broken than I’d understood. It was just one more mystery for me to solve. But one that would have to wait until the biggest problem we faced was handled.
“Maybe she’ll come out tomorrow.”
Running his hand through his hair, he answered, “Yeah, maybe.”
Hating the pain I saw behind his eyes and in the lines of his face, I almost choked on the sobs that wanted to drive their way up my throat. Poor Holden. This beautiful, talented man that had lost everything and everybody, but still didn’t know that, until I came into his life, he’d been very much alone.
Touching his shoulder, I drew his attention down to me. “Let’s eat. Then we can go in your studio for a while. It’s easier when you get lost in your art, isn’t it?”
Blinking, his voice cracked with restrained emotion when he asked, “How did you know?”
“Because that room is the only peaceful place inside this house. It’s the only room where you allow yourself to let go and just be you.”
We ate that night in silence, and after, I watched Holden create his art. Tears had blurred my vision when he wasn’t watching me, my soul shredded by the realization that a bubble was about to burst to allow chaos to sweep in and drown us both.
No matter how much a person prepares for the problems that were coming, those problems had a habit of showing up before you could take a last deep breath. It’s exactly how it happened for Holden and me. Because that night, after Holden exhausted himself between his art and the love we made after, our worlds came crashing down faster than I’d expected they could.