Chapter 19

Looking back, Holly wasn’t quite sure how she got through that morning. Thankfully, Madison fell asleep on the sofa a nurse had been gracious enough to let her use around seven am, but she herself was called back to speak to police what seemed like a thousand times before they finally let her go.

By that point, Holly hadn’t slept in over twenty four hours and she had to down two immense cups of coffee before she could bring herself to take her daughter home – and leave her best friend alone in the hospital, vulnerable and broken.

She allowed herself to shed a few tears on the drive home, while Maddy was sleeping, and made herself a meager breakfast of toast and tea while she waited for the sitter to come. Though she planned to receive Kirk Luckston at the restaurant in a few scant hours, she couldn’t bring herself to feel any trepidation.

She was still too numb at Kelly’s decidedly bleak condition. So much so that when the sitter arrived, Holly met her in a daze. She barely remembered telling the teen that there were meals in the fridge for her and Maddy, and that she would be back later. What she did remember was going up to her room and changing into her work clothes. Staring at the bloodstained pajamas she had worn all night and yanking her hair into some semblance of order. She remembered staring at her phone, wanting with every fiber of her being to call Shane and have him take all of her pain away.

And knowing she couldn’t.

She put on her best smile for Maddy, kissing her before she left for work, and trying to make herself fear the fact that Kirk was going to put her through her paces. Somehow, however, she found herself dunked in a pool of guilt so strong it made her head swim with nausea. She was Kelly’s best friend and she hadn’t thought, not even once, to check on her. To ask her where she was going and who was picking her up.

Maybe if she had…Maybe if she had done something, Kelly wouldn’t be lying unresponsive in a hospital bed.

Maybe she deserved what was coming to her.

It was with that thought in mind that she arrived at the restaurant, in a half dream-like state. She walked in through the front entryway to greet everyone and take stock of the situation. They had a live band, and brunch was going to be packed. Usually, the realization would have elated her. Today, it only made her glad the music would no doubt cover any sounds she and Luckston made during his visit.

Holly went about her daily routine in a daze of dreaded anticipation. There was stocking to do, inventory to take and a few recipes to check on – but by the time two o’clock rolled around, she was long finished with her tasks.

And, like clockwork, Luckston arrived right on time.

Holly was waiting for him, sitting stone still in her office when one of the waitresses showed him in. The bastard waltzed in like he owned the place, grinning like a fucking loon – and Holly knew that he was already contemplating whatever it was that he was going to do. When Kirk shut the door behind him, the snap rang though the office with a finality that made her shudder.

If she expected the man to demand that she vacate her seat and come to him- to take her by her hair and demand his money – she was disappointed. Instead, he merely took the seat in front of the desk, still smiling with an odd, maniacal glint in his eye. The silence between them stretched for so long that Holly became uncomfortable.

Driving her to be the first to speak. “I assume you want your money?” Her voice was low and hollow as she stared across the desk at him – the desk where he had humiliated her more times than she could count. The desk where she and Shane had come together in needful desperation.

Leaning back in his chair, Luckston propped his feet up on it, eying her over his expensive shoes. “We’ll get to that. First, I want you to tell me how your night went.”

Holly just stared at him, an edge of confusion beginning to creep past the numbness she’d forced on herself. “My night?”

“Yes.” He replied curtly, his smile widening visibly. “Receive any special gifts, perhaps?”

What the hell was he talking about? Luckston had to know damn well that she wasn’t receiving anything! The man was watching her like a hawk, and even if he had sent something, how the hell would she get it overnight? What was he playing at? “Jesus Christ, you really are a stupid bitch.” Kirk chuckled shaking his head slowly. When he next spoke, his question made Holly’s eyes go wide and her heart stop.

“So how’s Rob doing?”

Jesus.

Oh Jesus. “How…how do you know about Rob?” Holly’s voice came out in the barest of whispers, her heart slamming emphatically against her ribs.

Luckston chuckled, low, dark and menacing. “I honestly think you should take it as a compliment that he was so interested in that blonde-haired bimbo.” Holly felt her entire world crumbling around her. “He put in weeks, fucking weeks pampering her, giving her whatever the fuck she wanted – and she was a demanding little bitch. I wanted to just get on with it and send a message, but Rob? No…Rob likes to have his fun.”

Holly found that she had started to shake again – just as hard as she had when Kelly had been dumped on her doorstep. “Who the fuck is Rob?” She demanded lowly, clenching a pen so hard the plastic bent against her palm.

Kirk smirked, the gesture tight and cruel. “He’s the more charming sibling of the two of us, obviously. You know how I like to do business, darling.”

Something inside Holly snapped.

She couldn’t take it anymore. She was tired of being exploited, tired of being repressed, and tired of taking beating after beating, only to wait for the next one. She was tired of spending half her nights wide awake waiting for them to come for her daughter – to come for Shane. To decide that they wanted more money…Holly just wanted it all to be over.

No matter what it took.

They had taken everything from her. Her husband, her sanity, her safety and sense of well-being…and now they had attacked Kelly. Kelly, who had done nothing but support and care for her during one of the darkest times in her life.

She didn’t think. Bracing her knee atop Tommy’s desk, Holly leapt at Kirk with a snarl that could only be described as inhuman. Her fury lent strength to her actions, and even though the man caught her, the force with which she leapt sent his chair toppling to the floor, spilling both of them onto the hard tile.

Holly’s fingers found Luckston’s chest and neck and she ripped with all her might. She yanked at his hair, kicked at his form anywhere she could reach, and screamed her frustration as she took out months of agony on the source of all of her pain. Holly was so angry in fact, that she barely noticed that most of her blows didn’t connect. She drew blood, but the intent seemed to excite Kirk rather than frighten him, and when she kneed him in the stomach, he only laughed cruelly, knocking her back against the door of the office with enough force to make her see stars.

She was still recovering when Kirk’s thick fingers closed around her throat and began to squeeze – tighter and tighter –until she was gasping and clawing vainly against his grip. Slowly, the man bore her to the floor, his bloodied nose dripping down his face as he laughed breathlessly.

“I love it when you fight, Holly. I fucking love it.”

Her body bucked against the floor as she struggled as powerfully as she could, her fury fading bit by bit into the painful hopelessness she knew all too well.

Kirk was going to win. He always won.

No matter how hard she fought.

**

Shane knew he was testing his boundaries.

Holly had told him to go home and get some rest after the weekend they spent together – even when he insisted that he’d be more than happy to watch Madison a few times during the week. She had countered, telling him that she, as a parent, knew how guardians could get burned out, and that she’d invite him over at the end of the week for a barbecue.

And so, Shane had gone home. And he tried to stay away.

But working on cars and dealing with his crotchety father’s attitude was hard when his head was still full of Holly. How it had been to have her in his arms whenever he wanted – to watch her laugh and smile with Madison – to sleep next to her. After eight goddamn years of waiting and wondering – after almost ten of knowing that Holly was the one he let get away, he felt like he was finally coming into himself.

That things were working out the way he had always wanted.

It wasn’t Shane’s intention to disrespect his brother’s memory. Despite the fact that he hadn’t talked to him for eight years before his death, he had loved Tommy. He wished he could have apologized for the shit he said before he got put away, and he wished he had his brother’s drive – his passion for life.

For Shane, Holly was that passion. She allowed him to see the world in ways he’d never imagined he would. She allowed him to dream that one day he might be able to really be with the woman he had loved for a third of his natural fucking life.

Now, he only needed to get her there as well.

Hence why he was testing his boundaries.

If Holly thought he needed a break, she was dead wrong. If it was up to him, he’d be with her and Madison all the fucking time – but telling her that might be bit much.

So, instead, he’d done the cliché thing: flowers.

A big bouquet of roses for her a little one with pink carnations for Maddy. Shane supposed he should have bought one for Kelly too, but he had no idea if the crazy blonde was back from her mysterious sexcapade with Rob the trader. He certainly hadn’t heard from her.

Shane stood outside the restaurant, hoping he wasn’t being too goddamn forward. He couldn’t help himself. He’d much rather see Holly’s delighted smile and revel in Madison’s childish laughter than have his dad yell at him; and while he enjoyed working on cars, he vastly preferred the floral scent of Holly’s perfume over engine oil.

There was no fucking contest there.

The restaurant was bustling, and from the outside walk, Shane caught neither hide nor hair of either Madison or Holly. Feeling slightly sheepish, he rolled up the cuffs of the chambray button up he wore over his slacks and made his way inside.

Kelly was still nowhere to be found, and so the young woman behind the hostess desk eye-screwed him in her stead as she asked for his reservation. When he told her, instead, that he meant to speak with the owner, she looked crestfallen and directed him back towards the office, citing that Holly was in a meeting and he might have to wait.

Well, that he certainly didn’t mind. The music was pleasant, the atmosphere upbeat, and he was curious as hell to see if Holly even liked roses.

Shane strode towards the back of the restaurant, his bouquets in hand, and paused outside of the executive office. The door was shut, and both seats outside taken by waiting patrons, he just stood, hoping he didn’t stand out like a sore thumb.

He was enjoying the jazz while he contemplated ordering food when a faint thump reached his ears. At first, Shane was convinced he was hearing things. When he looked around, no one else in the restaurant seemed to have been disturbed, and he was on the cusp of wondering how the bass got to be so prominent when the sound came again.

Louder this time.

A definite thud – like someone smacking a heavy weight against a wall.

And not just any wall. The one right beside him – the office.

Frowning, Shane bent slightly to set the two bouquets he held on the floor, leaning against the wall. As he did so, he pressed his ear to the elegantly painted sheetrock, listening intensely.

This time, when the sound came, it was a loud smack with a soft, feminine cry of pain that immediately sent adrenaline humming through his veins. Without a second thought, he reached for the office door handle and found it locked. Raising a fist, he knocked briskly at the door, uncaring that the two women beside him gazed up at him as if he were crazy. “Holly?”

Almost immediately, the shuffling in the office stopped, and all he could hear was the low strains of jazz music from the front of the restaurant. His heart in his throat, Shane called out again. “Holly? Are you in there?”

A harsh scraping sound ensued, like wood across the floor, and then a low tinkling of glass. Seconds later, a pained, soft moan – barely audible – reached his ears. “Shane…”

And that was all it took.

With a low growl, Shane took a few steps backward before raising his foot and kicking at the door. The wood rocked in its frame and several of the restaurant’s patrons stopped to look, alarmed. But Shane wasn’t paying attention. He kicked at the door once, and then twice more before it finally burst inward – and the sight that met his gaze drew a bellow of rage from deep in his belly.

Holly was bent over the desk, her dress torn down the front and her bra hanging off her arms. Her unkempt hair spilled around her face, framing the rapidly swelling bruise high on her jaw and smearing the trickle of blood that ran from her lower lip down her chin. Standing over her, pinning each of her wrists to the desk above her head, was a figure that Shane recognized by reputation.

But he had never thought to see him here.

Within seconds, Shane was in the office, ripping Kirk Luckston’s form from atop Holly to throw him bodily from the office. Immediately, a chorus of screams ensued from the patrons outside as Luckston crashed into a food-leaden table, toppling both it and himself. As the man struggled to his feet, cruel eyes blazing, there was a mass exodus as members of the band, restaurant customers and staff all headed for the door.

Shane, however, was more concerned with the six feet of muscled man that came back for him almost as if his fall hadn’t stunned him at all. The two men collided and Shane landed a hook on Luckston’s jaw that bloodied his lip just before the shorter man kneed him in the stomach. Unprepared, Shane groaned, backing up as the man before him simply laughed, spitting blood onto the expensive marble floor of the restaurant before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Shane fucking Wilder. I should have guessed you’d be here. You always go sticking your fucking nose where it shouldn’t be.”

“Get out Luckston,” Shane hissed, his green eyes narrow. “Before it’s too late.”

“Are you threatening me, Wilder?” Kirk barked a harsh laugh, wiping the blood from his face to smear onto his suit sleeve. “We fucking did your brother. You think we’d hesitate to do you?”

Shane leapt at him, blind rage suffusing him. Kirk had training – that much was evident. But Shane’s training came from keeping himself alive behind bars, in the midst of a hostile environment, for the past third of his life. He had learned to play dirty, and he wasn’t about to pull any punches.

When Kirk drew a knife on him, stabbing downward in a quick, lethal motion, Shane caught his wrist, bending it backward until the bone snapped. When Luckston howled in pain, Shane used his leverage on the man’s arm to yank him downwards, his knee connecting with Kirk’s face in a spray of blood.

The knife clattered to the floor as Shane stood over him, his chest heaving.

He’d been alone with Holly. Doing God knows what to her…And Tommy….fucking Christ, Tommy…

“You killed him.” His tone deadly calm, Shane tightened his grip on Kirk’s ruined wrist until the man groaned, long and low. “You killed Tommy.”

Luckston spat out another mouthful of blood. “I didn’t fucking do it. Not personally at least.” When he grinned now, his teeth were smeared with blood. “You didn’t honestly think we’d forget you, did you Shane? Not after that shit you pulled. Did you think you’d just go away and that would be the end of it? No….fucking no one crosses the Luckstons and gets away with it.”

Shane didn’t have time for this bullshit.

Taking Luckston’s other hand in a firm grip, he kicked the man’s legs out from under him so he was forced to his knees – hard on the marble floor. “You killed Tommy because of me?”

Kirk merely chuckled, the sound half crazed. “Tommy killed himself. We just gave him the outlet to do it. All this fucking success…and he was still a money hungry bastard. He wanted to risk it all, and he couldn’t pay it back. Not after all his losses.”

“You preyed on him,” Shane felt his heart twisting in his chest as he imagined his brother, tempted by a source he had put into his path. “You put him in that fucking hole.”

“No, you put him in that hole, Shane.” Kirk hissed gleefully. “When you killed our man and stole Dad’s shit. You did it. You and no one else.”

Shane couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see and he couldn’t speak. All he could do was feel – and what he felt was nothing short of murderous. This…all this over some drugs? Over an accident in a hotel a fucking decade ago and a couple thousand dollars’ worth of blow? This is what the Luckstons destroyed his family over?

Without a word, he shoved Luckston away from him, shaking his head slowly. Fuck. Fuck.

Of course, Kirk chose that instant to pull something stupid. In the blink of an eye, the younger Luckston brother pulled a revolver from his suit jacket to point directly at Shane. The taller man didn’t move, just staring down the barrel.

Part of him wished for death. Knowing how and why Tommy had died…knowing that Kirk got to Holly…God, things were more fucked up than he ever could have imagined. “You’re coming with me,” Kirk demanded, through his mess of a face, “And we’re going to go talk to Rob. You’ll tell him where our shit is, or I’ll come back and blow your little girlfriend’s brains ou-”

All at once, the loud report of a gunshot filled the room and the top of Kirk’s head disintegrated in a spray of blood and bone. The man dropped to the floor like a stone as Shane looked on, his eyes wide.

In the aftermath, with Kirk Luckston in a pool of his own spreading blood, he looked over towards the open office door to see Holly standing there, a small pistol in her shaking hands. Tears were streaming down her face as harsh gasps escaped her, and she looked as if she might collapse at any moment.

As sirens began to sound in the distance, Shane began towards her slowly, his voice low and careful. “Holly. Holly, look at me.” But she didn’t. She kept staring at the space where Kirk Luckston had stood, pain, horror and a profound relief all stark on her face. “Holly, give me the gun.” He edged toward her slowly, step by step, until he stood next to her. “Holly.” Reaching over, he gently pried the weapon from her fingertips before sliding it into the waistband of his slacks, flush against the small of his back. That done, he took her into his arms, holding her stiff form against him. “Holly, it’s ok. Everything’s going to be alright.”

When she began to shake, he knew she was starting to come out of it. Within thirty seconds, her knees collapsed beneath her and he had to help her to the ground as she clung to him, sobbing violently. Every soft, tormented hitching of her breath was like a knife to his heart, and Shane cursed himself over and over for being so goddamned naïve.

He had let this happen. Too busy trying to bury the past to realize that it was far from finished with him yet, he had done the one thing he’d sworn not to: put Holly in danger.

And he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to forgive himself for it.