by Alyssa Breck
Sin answered. “Hello.”
“It’s Hunter. We made it.” They never discussed business over the phone. Most conversations were done in code.
“Cool. I’ll let Paul know.”
“Is Holly there?”
“Nah. Haven’t seen her.”
“Hmm. She was supposed to stay there tonight. Have her call me when she shows up.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, man.” Hunter ended the call. Worry niggled at him, but he was tired and hungry. “I’m going to order a pizza. That cool with you, guys?”
Hem nodded. “I’d rather be eating pussy, but pizza will do.”
Maddox laughed. “I wonder what your new friend would charge you to dine at the kitty cafe.”
“When I was done, she’d want to pay me.” Hem smirked.
Chapter TWENTY
Holly
Holly’s mother hadn’t answered her text messages, so she decided to head back to the clubhouse. Deep down, she knew her mother wouldn’t accept her offer to stay in Sugar Branch. The bag she packed was in her bedroom, and she stopped in the bathroom to grab her lotion. She hefted the duffel bag and walked down the hall toward the living room. A tall figure stood by the door.
Startled, Holly dropped the bag and backed up. Her father stepped out of the shadow of the foyer.
“Dammit, Daddy. You scared me.” Her parents had spare keys to her house and car. It unnerved her that she hadn’t heard him come in. “What are you doing here? Where’s Mom?”
“Brenda’s at the hotel. We’re heading home tonight.”
Holly picked up her bag and dropped it onto the couch. “I’m heading out myself.”
“Going to stay with your boyfriend?” he asked. Her father wore Dockers and a Polo shirt with deck shoes. Everything about him oozed arrogance and money.
Holly realized that part of what attracted her to Hunter was that he was the complete opposite of her father. “Why do you care where I’m going?”
Chris was calm and that worried her a little like the quiet just before a tornado hit. Her phone buzzed on the breakfast bar that separated the living room from the kitchen. Her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands as she clenched her fists. It had become an involuntary reaction to being around him. As horrible as it might seem, she couldn’t wait for the phone call telling her he’d finally had a heart attack or been hit by a car or something, anything, that would take him out of her life.
She walked toward her phone, but her father grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “You told your mother to leave me?”
Holly shook her head. “No. I told her to stay with me for a while so we could spend time together.”
He wrapped his hand around her throat and slammed her back into the wall. The framed picture of a butterfly fell and hit her head before it crashed to the ground. Glass shattered and bounced on the wooden floor.
“I’ve had it with your meddling and putting ideas into your mother’s head. Don’t ever try to undermine me again.” He lifted Holly off her feet, and she couldn’t breathe.
Panic seized her, and she scratched her nails into his arm. If she could pull in a breath, she could scream. She bucked her body against the wall and landed a kick between his legs.
His grip on her neck loosened, and he dropped her, but he didn’t go down. Instead, he grabbed a handful of her hair and slapped her. The blow stunned her. It had been years since he’d struck her like that. Tears filled her eyes, and her body shook. Don’t you dare cry!
He didn’t say it, but she remembered the words and they rang clear in her head.
“You’re still a spoiled, little bitch. That’s your mother’s fault.” Her father let go of her hair while he unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops of his khaki pants.
Holly shook her head. “No. No.” She froze as she watched him close his fist around the buckle and wrap the belt around his hand.
Her phone buzzed on the counter again, and they both looked at it. She ran for it. If she could call someone, anyone … He beat her to it and threw it against the wall. It landed on the floor, the screen shattered. When she turned around her father landed another blow to her head. His fist connected with her left temple, and she went down.
Her vision wavered, but she saw him raise his arm in a blur. Pain seared her back where the belt hit. She curled herself into a ball and covered her head with her hands. That’s what she’d done as a child when he wielded the razor strap. Protect your ribs and your face. The whistling sound of the belt as it cut through the air was so loud. She covered her ears and closed her eyes. After the first few strikes, she didn’t feel it anymore. She went numb and stepped outside herself.
The rage transformed his face into something like a monster. Spittle pooled at the corners of his mouth and sprayed in her face when he leaned down to grip her chin. “If you call the police, I’ll kill her.” He carefully threaded his belt back through the loops of his pants and walked over to her phone. He stomped on it and then walked out.
Holly went into autopilot. She locked the door and swept up the broken glass from the picture. Her phone was dead. She didn’t have a landline, so she had no way of calling anyone and it didn’t matter. She didn’t want anybody to see her like that. In the bathroom, she stripped down. Red welts covered her left arm and thigh and most of her back. Her clothing had buffered some of the hits, so it wasn’t as bad as when he used to make her strip down to her underwear before a beating. Broken blood vessels in her left eye had bled into the sclera, turning it solid red. She was a mess.
The water poured over her in the shower. She sat in the tub and took deep breaths. If he was that angry with her, he had probably hurt her mother, too. Holly wrapped a white towel around her and walked into her office, leaving wet footprints down the hall. Without a phone, she couldn’t check on her mom, and her dad likely had her phone anyway. Hunter’s cigarettes sat on her desk, and she fingered the pack.
There was one person she could contact. When she’d used Hem’s computer, she saw he had an instant messenger account. His username was HemeneSilvereagle.
Hunter
After the pizza, Maddox had fallen asleep, and Hem was in the shower. Maddox was the biggest of the three, so he got a bed to himself. Hunter channel surfed through the basic cable channels looking for something remotely interesting to watch. Hem’s phone beeped on the nightstand.
Hunter started to doze off, but the bathroom door opening snapped him back to attention. Hem came out wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. In addition to the club tattoo all the patch holders donned, Hem’s arms and shoulders were covered with tribal tattoos. His long hair was braided down his back. He plopped down on the bed next to Hunter.
“I’m going to sleep so, good tonight.”
“Your phone was beeping, stud.”
Hem laughed. “I can’t keep up with all my ladies.” He picked up the phone and squinted. Hem looked at Hunter. “Have you talked to Holly tonight?”
“No. Why?”
“She sent me an IM.”
“What? What did she say?”
“She said to tell you her phone broke, and she was staying at home tonight.” Hem typed into the phone. “Let me see if I can get her on Skype.” His phone made a ringing sound like he was making a phone call then it dropped. “Let me try again.”
“You have all this shit on your phone?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah. Gotta love technology.” Hem smiled. “There we go.”
An image popped up on his screen. Hem turned the phone sideways to get a bigger picture. He held the phone up between the two of them. Holly sat in an office chair. Her hair was wet and dripping. A towel was wrapped around her and tucked under her arms. Her head was positioned at a weird angle. Hem and Hunter looked at each other.
She smiled, but it was that weird fake smile Hunter had come to recognize. “Hi, guys.”
“Hey,” Hem said.
Something wasn’t right. “What happened to your phone?”
Hunter asked.
Holly rubbed her forehead. “I went out for a bike ride today, and I wrecked. Smashed my phone in the street.”
“Did a car hit you?” Hem asked.
She shook her head. “No. I was trying to avoid a dog that ran into the street, and I hit a parked car.”
“Are you okay?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.” She lifted her face up and pointed to her eye. “Nearly knocked myself out.”
The left side of her face was swollen and red, and it looked like she had some marks on her shoulder. “Maybe you should go get that checked out, baby. You had to hit your head pretty hard to do that kind of damage.”
“It’s okay. I had a helmet on. It probably looks worse than it is.” She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke upward. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you my phone was out, and I’m kind of sore so I’m going to stay home tonight.”
“I don’t think you should be alone, Holly. Let me send Kol over to pick you up.”
“No. No. I’m fine. I just want to go to bed.”
Hem gave Hunter a side-eye glance but didn’t say anything.
“Okay. Well, message Hem if you need something. We can send someone over there in a heartbeat.”
“Thanks.” Tears filled her eyes but didn’t spill over. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” The connection ended. Hunter looked at Hem. “She’s lying.”
“Why would she lie? What do you think really happened?”
“Motherfucker.” Hunter got up and paced in front of the bed.
“Dude? What?”
“Her dad.”
Hem blinked. “You think her old man did that to her? The Milton Milquetoast at her graduation?”
“Yeah, that was him. There’s a history.” Hunter shook his head. “Do you think that looked like a bike accident? Or more like a punch to the eye? There was no road rash. We know what it looks like to eat pavement on a bike.” Hunter lit a cigarette. “And she was about to cry when we hung up.”
“Point. But why would she lie about it now? I mean, if you already know some shit.”
“I don’t know. Maybe she’s afraid of my reaction. Or she’s embarrassed.”
“She looked like she just got out of the shower. You don’t think he did anything else to her, do you?”
“He fucking better not have. As far as I know the abuse wasn’t sexual.” Hunter’s hands shook. It was probably good that he was nine hours away because if this was Chris Farris’s handiwork, Hunter would go find him and snap his neck like a twig. “But he beat the shit out of her and her mom pretty much her whole life.”
Hem stood and pulled a T-shirt on. “My old man used to kick my ass on the daily. But I’m a dude. He never touched my sister. We can leave now. I slept part of the way here so I can drive. I’m down to give that motherfucker a tune-up. Do you know where we can find him?”
“Holly didn’t say where they were staying. Can you find out?”
“Probably. Give me a few minutes.” Hem sat on the edge of the bed and started tapping on the screen of his phone. “Christopher Farris, right?”
“Yeah. You got something?”
“He checked out of the Hilton about an hour ago.”
“He’ll be back in Florida before we get to Dallas.”
“So. We can visit the Keys. It’ll be lovely.” Hem grinned.
Hunter sat on the opposite side of the bed. “I love you, brother.”
“Love you, too, man. We’ll get this settled. Nobody fucks with our family.” He put his fist out to Hunter.
Hunter bumped his fist against Hem’s. “Amen.”
Chapter TWENTY-ONE
Hunter
They decided to wait until morning to hit the road. Even though Hem had napped on the way up, it was still dangerous to venture out. Cops were bored at night. They didn’t want to get pulled over with a shit ton of heroin and cash in the back of the SUV. By late afternoon the next day, Hunter was pulling his bike into Holly’s driveway. He removed his helmet and walked up to the door. He knocked twice and waited. With her phone out of commission, he couldn’t call her first like he normally would have.
The door creaked open an inch. When Holly saw him, she pulled it open all the way. He stepped inside. It was dark. The curtains were all pulled closed, and no lights were on.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked.
“No. I’m working in my office.” Her hair was a mess, and she wore baggy sweatpants with a T-shirt. “How was El Paso?”
“Uneventful.” He put his hand on her shoulder, and she flinched. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Just sore.”
“I can have Sheila come over and take a look at you.”
“No.” She waved her hand in the air. “No need. It’s just some bumps and bruises.”
Holly had yet to make eye contact with him. He tipped her chin up. “Let me see your eye.” Just as he expected, she had a shiner. “Did you put Preparation H on that?”
She laughed softly. “No. I didn’t have any.”
“How’s your bike?” Hunter asked leading questions hoping she’d tell him the truth. If he was going to kill her father, he needed to make sure he had his facts straight first.
“It’s fine.”
“If you hit a car, it’s probably fucked up.”
“No. Really. It’s fine.”
“Do you even own a bike, Holly?”
“What? Yes. Of course, I do. Why are you interrogating me?”
“Because we both know your story is bullshit. What really happened yesterday?”
“I told you.” Her voice cracked.
Hunter cupped her face and kissed her eye. “It’s okay to fall apart.”
The broken cell phone was on the coffee table. The screen wasn’t just shattered but smashed. The damage didn’t look like an accident.
Holly shook her head and balled up her fists. “I can’t.”
A blue duffel bag sat on the edge of the couch like she’d been interrupted on her way out. He put it on the floor and pulled her to sit with him. “Yes, you can. You need to or you’re going to lose your mind. Believe me, I know.”
“If I fall apart, he wins.”
“No, baby. This isn’t about him. It’s about you.”
She touched her chest. “My heart hurts. Like literally. I feel like something’s squeezing me.”
“That’s anxiety.” Hunter knew that feeling all too well. It had taken him years to recognize it and learn to control it. Coping techniques didn’t always work. That’s what booze was for. “Take a deep breath.”
She inhaled and screamed. Holly swung on him, and he caught her fist with his hand just before it hit his face. For her size, she packed some power behind her punch.
Dark brown pillows were neatly lined up on the couch, and she picked one up and threw it. “I can’t believe I let this happen again.”
“Whoa. Hold on. You didn’t let this happen. Someone bigger and stronger than you did this. Someone you should’ve been able to trust. None of this is your fault.”
The floodgates opened, and she sobbed. Hunter would wager this was the first time she really let herself cry about it. He pulled her close and rubbed his hand down her back. Holly recoiled.
“Show me.”
She stared at him with tears streaming down her cheeks. “No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s embarrassing.”
“You’re not thinking straight, Holly. I want to know if you need medical attention. If you do, I’ll call Sheila. We won’t put this on the record anywhere. I promise.”
She wrung her hands and stared at the floor. Then she slowly turned around and pulled her shirt up. Thin purple welts covered the left side of her back like someone had whipped her. It took a concerted effort not to grind his teeth into dust. They were broaching a fragile layer of trust, and he didn’t want to fuck that up, so he kept his voice low.
“Stand up.” Hunter pulled at the waist of her s
weats. The welts extended down over her hip and onto her thigh. He was going to kill that motherfucker slow and ugly.
The wounds looked awful, and he was sure they were painful, but there was no broken skin or bleeding. It would just take some time to heal.
“Jesus, baby.” Hunter pulled her sweats back up.
Her shoulders shook, and she covered her face with her hands. “I feel so humiliated.”
He touched her hip. “Come here.”
She didn’t move, and he didn’t pull her. It had to be on her terms. The last thing she needed was another man trying to control her.
“I’m worried about my mom.” Holly walked to the window and peeked outside. “If he was mad enough to do this to me, I can’t imagine what he did to her.”
“Do you want to call her? You can use my phone.”
“Okay.”
He put his phone on the table. She picked it up and stared at it for a few seconds. She dialed a number and then put it up to her ear.
“Mom? Don’t say it’s me. I just wanted to know you’re okay … Bye.” Holly turned to Hunter. “I think she’s all right. She sounded okay. She acted like I was a wrong number.”
“That’s good. If he checks her call history, he won’t recognize my number either. Holly … did he do anything else to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You had just gotten out of the shower when you messaged Hem. If something else happened, you might still need to see a doctor.” The words were like acid on his tongue. He hated to ask, and his stomach tightened waiting for her response.
She shook her head. “No. He’s never touched me like that.”
“Okay. Okay.”
“He used to make me strip down to my underwear before he hit me with that god damned razor strap, but he didn’t touch me. Thank God.”
Finding something to be grateful for wasn’t within Hunter’s capabilities at the moment. Lowering his blood pressure was a bigger priority.
“My mom told me his dad used to hit him with it when he was a kid, too. I guess he doesn’t know better.”
