by Stella Rhys
Not until I heard a new one from her.
“If you don’t call me back, Holland,” her voice warbled and seethed, “you can expect to find me at your apartment tonight, because I have your address.”
It was then that I yanked my headphones out, staring unblinkingly into space, paralyzed at my desk and at the same time trembling all over.
My new address. Mom has it.
How did she get it?
What the fuck?
A thousand panicked questions fired off in my brain before I resorted to my usual fix.
Damage control.
Talking her down. Off the ledge.
I knew how to deal with her when she was like this. Not exactly like this—I’d never heard it this bad before—but if anyone could do it, it was me.
Eyes closed, my mind spun.
I could leave work now, hop the train to Port Authority, take the first bus home and spend some quality time with Mom. We’d go to our usual diner and talk. I’d let her brush my hair in her room. She’d feel better once she saw me. She’d say things that would hurt. Definitely try to manipulate me.
But if I was mentally prepared for all that, what damage could she really do in one night?
I barely remembered going to Freya and asking for a personal day. My heart was beating so fast it was like I blacked out for a little. All I remembered before I left was leaving the Minx bag on the corner of my desk, and all the printouts of the bed and breakfasts I’d chosen.
And I remembered my heart twisting nonstop as I grabbed my purse and got the hell out of there.
25
IAIN
I was exhausted, drained to my core by the time my car got back into the city. As it generally was when I went there, it had been a hell of a day.
But the worst part this time was knowing that I’d fucked up with Holland.
I should have called her. Waited till I had the calm and the capacity to talk to her on the phone so she could hear my voice as I apologized.
But I wasn’t entirely sure when that calm would come, so I texted before it got any more last-minute. I watched the ellipses come up as she texted, and then I watched it disappear.
I didn’t have the time to call until I was in the car, but by then her phone was off.
And though she’d turned in on long enough to text okay I understand around 2PM, it was off again by the time I received the text and called her.
Obviously, it didn’t sit well with me.
In fact, I felt like shit about it, which was why I’d headed back as early as possible and was on my way downtown to her apartment.
I was about ten blocks away when Adam called, and though I’d been ignoring non-urgent calls in the past hour, I picked up his, barely getting a word out before he spoke over me.
“You fucking kidding me, Thorn?”
I blinked. “Come again?”
He hissed out a bitter laugh of disbelief. “Just come clean with me, man. Of all people to keep this from.”
My pulse picked up as I paused, a thousand possibilities racing through my head as I asked, “What are you talking about?”
I waited what felt like an eternity before Adam finally spoke.
“Engelman-Thorn?” he said with a laugh of genuine amusement. “Dude. When were you going to tell me you were working on a merger with my agency?”
I closed my eyes and exhaled, rubbing my hand over my entire face when I realized what the hell he was actually talking about. “You were going to find out once it was closer to official,” I said.
“My sources tell me it’s getting there. Likely the end of the year.”
“Yeah. Finally,” I said, referring to the past eighteen months of nonstop meetings with my board, conference calls with the West Coast and secret meetings in L.A.
All for the purpose of joining forces with the first agency I’d ever worked for. The one Adam was still at.
“If only the bastard knew,” Adam remarked, making my jaw tick at the reference to my dad. He had both envied and revered his friend Don Engelman. Had always wanted to make a merger happen.
But time and again, his attempts had failed.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll find out in another life,” Adam said distractedly before snorting. “I can’t believe you’re going to be my boss.”
“I can’t believe you’re this relaxed about it. I’ve been picturing your reaction for a year, and you’re giving me far less shit than I expected.”
“Yeah, I’ll make up for it another time,” he joked, attempting a laugh. “It’s just been fucking rough today.”
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just some shit with Holland this morning,” he said, making me immediately still. I sat upright.
“What happened with Holland?” I asked, my voice already tight.
He waited less than a second to answer, but I still found myself getting impatient. “She called this morning and laid into me. Thought I slipped and told Dad her address.”
“Why can’t your dad—” I cut off, realizing the answer halfway through my question. “Because your mom would get it out of him in a heartbeat.”
“Yeah,” Adam said dryly, his stress now audible. “And if she had it, she’d be terrorizing Holland in person, which… I fucking hope to God she isn’t doing right now.”
My grip tightened on my phone as I felt a sharp rise in my pulse. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“My mom.” Adam muttered some choice expletives for Jeannie before explaining. “She finally snapped today. I mean she’s been a ticking time bomb so I guess we should’ve known it was coming, but Christ… Holland forwarded me the voicemail and that psycho was crying like she was being fucking murdered. Talking about how ungrateful Holland is, how she was going to hurt herself. All the classics minus the whole ‘I’m coming for you because I found out your address thing.’ That’s definitely new.”
I palmed my hand over my entire head.
What the fuck.
“So, what’s going on now? Where’s Holland? Is she okay?” I asked, not bothering to disguise my urgency.
I wasn’t even sure when I’d told my driver to pull over the car. All I knew was that we were stopped now, my jaw clenched tight and my mind was racing a mile a minute as I ran through every possibility of what Jeannie Maxwell’s crazy ass was capable of.
“I don’t know where Holland is, but the good thing is I don’t think she went home to Jersey,” Adam said, providing me only a hint of relief. “My dad said she hasn’t been by the house, but he also said my mom’s been gone all day and he doesn’t know where she went. And Holland’s phone has been off since the morning, so it’s been… fucking stressful,” Adam said, heaving another sigh. And just as I opened my mouth to ask why he didn’t call me, he said it himself. “I wanted to call you, but when I told her I was going to have you check in, she was… really fucking adamant against that idea. Made me promise not to contact you,” he said, managing a breath of laughter despite the anxiety still thick his voice. “I think because she felt like I was babying her.”
No.
More because I last-minute fucking canceled on her right as all this shit was going down.
Fuck.
“And you have no idea where she went?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “Where was she when you talked to her?”
“She was leaving her office when I talked to her around noon your time. I don’t know where she went though. I told her just to stay away from her apartment and get drunk till her roommate was out of work.”
I closed my eyes. Goddammit, Adam.
I inhaled deep as I thought about all the levels on which that was horrible fucking advice for Holland. She was already upset. She was probably alone. Her roommate was working so if she was out getting shitfaced, she was definitely not with anyone she knew very well.
Unless she was at her roommate’s bar.
Fuck, let her be there, I prayed, because even if she was completely trashed at that bar, it wa
s a better place for her to be than alone with her batshit insane fucking mother.
“Look, I gotta go,” I said, barely waiting for Adam to respond before I hung up the phone, my heart hammering in my chest as I told my driver to turn the car around.
26
HOLLAND
The streets were quiet by 1AM. Never totally quiet, especially in the East Village, but quiet enough to match my mood, which was calm.
Exhausted, but calm.
And better.
Taking a deep breath, I took the crinkled bus ticket out of my pocket and tossed it into a trash can on the corner. Total waste of money, I thought. One I couldn’t be more grateful for.
I hadn’t gone back to Jersey.
I’d realized what a bad idea it was within pretty much two blocks of leaving my office. I still went to Port Authority, and I still bought the ticket, but I’d wound up just sitting with it for forty minutes before walking back out onto Eighth Avenue. I had just needed some time to quiet my brain, to remember what I had staunchly promised myself when I first moved out.
Which was to let my wound breathe.
I was better, happier than I’d ever been before. But just because I was strong enough to withstand Mom’s abuse now didn’t mean I should go ahead and let her hurt me. The healing process was going to take longer, leave a bigger scar if I kept letting someone scratch at my wound.
So instead of hopping a bus to do damage control for Mom, I spent the day taking care of me.
Like an emergency me day. Nothing I’d never handled before. It just took time. And energy.
And walking, apparently.
I’d been so focused on my own thoughts, gotten so lost in my own head all day that I hadn’t even realized how much I’d walked around Manhattan till I looked at my steps in my phone and saw a five-digit number that seemed completely absurd.
But it certainly explained why my legs were so sore, and why I could think about nothing right now but getting out of the clothes I’d been wearing since 8AM, changing into my softest T-shirt, and collapsing onto my bed.
As I rounded the corner of my street, I finally turned on my phone, lifting my eyebrows as much as I could in my tired state at all the texts I had missed. Most from Dad, many from Adam, several from A.J, and some from Mia.
My eyes gravitated to Mia’s.
She was the only one who didn’t know about my total clusterfuck of a day, and since I didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, I skipped everyone else’s texts and went straight to hers.
And as soon as my tired eyes read them, my eyebrows jumped halfway up my forehead.
MIA: Uhhhh
MIA: Mr. Ass just came here looking for you???!?
I stopped and stared in the middle of the sidewalk, whispering, “What?” before dragging my thumb to see the timestamp on the texts. 8:17PM.
Nearly five hours ago.
My eyes were still wide, unblinking, but with the current hour fresh in my mind, I kept walking to my apartment, my eyes glued to my screen as I read Mia’s last rambling texts.
MIA: He asked where he might find you and he looked so fucking hot and he seemed so desperate to know so I just told him all the places I’ve heard you talk about before and I highly doubt you’re there right now but I don’t know I just said it because he was being very firm with me and honestly a little bit scary
MIA: Like in a way that makes me super horny but anyway I think I might’ve sent him on a wild goose chase through Manhattan and parts of Brooklyn oops CALL ME when you get this please!
I stared, covering my inward laugh of shock as I immediately went to my recents to call Mia back. But as soon as I lifted my head to put the phone on my ear, my hand dropped from my mouth, my heart stopped and I froze.
Chills erupted all over my skin as our eyes locked. And for a moment, I could only stare, convinced I was dreaming.
Because standing still as a statue in front of my apartment was Iain.
Hands in his pockets. Tie loosened.
Just watching me.
“Oh, thank God—Holland?” Mia answered the phone suddenly, making me blink. But it took her saying my name a few more times before I spoke.
“Hey. Sorry, I’m home and safe. But let me call you back.”
I didn’t take my eyes off Iain as I hung up, letting my feet float me over to him till I was stopped just a foot from him. His gait was his usual strong and authoritative, but I was close enough now to see the softness and the unfiltered worry in his searching eyes. They looked silver under the light of the moon, and he was so stunning I had to stare for a little longer before I could speak.
“What are you doing here?” I finally asked, my words barely above a whisper.
He stood so still, but his throat moved as he swallowed, and though his stare glinted with intensity, his voice was soft when he spoke.
“I heard about your mom,” he replied. There was a beat of silence as his jaw ticked. “Did she show up?”
“No,” I said slowly, taking a second to process just how many of the details he knew. Probably all of them. Thanks to Adam. “I think she was bluffing. About having my address.”
Iain nodded, processing my words with what looked like relief. But the hard look in his eyes didn’t relent as he said, “You should’ve told me, Holland.”
“Told you what?”
“That she called. That you were afraid. Or stressed.”
I blinked, just studying him for a little. “Why would I tell you that?” I asked honestly, my voice soft.
A bicycle hummed by, and chatter echoed in the distance as the silence stretched between us for what felt like a longer-than-normal two seconds.
“Because I care about you,” Iain finally said. He paused, wetting his bottom lip. “Because I’ve always cared about you, Holland. From the beginning. You know that.”
I swallowed, feeling a lurch in my core, but then an involuntary warmth spreading all through my chest.
Because I did know that.
He had been like this with me since day one. Since the day I walked into the garage and saw him and my brother fixing his bike. He had been the one to smile first—to tell Adam to shut up when he told me to get lost.
And from there, he had always noticed me, sensed my feelings when nobody else did. When Iain Thorn was in my life, he was by far the most protective of me, and considering it meant the world to me, I’d obviously always known that.
But it never felt as real as it did now that he’d just acknowledged it too.
Because in certain corners of my brain, I told myself I’d imagined it. That I was just so desperate to be seen by anyone as a kid that I’d latched onto even the tiniest, most basic acts of kindness. Considering he was older, brilliant, and so fucking beautiful, it was easy to convince myself that I wasn’t actually special to Iain.
But with that simple assertion just now, he’d put to rest all those instances of doubt.
From years ago.
From this morning.
Well, this unravels some of today’s progress, I thought a bit wryly since I’d just spent a good part of the day telling myself to pump the brakes on Iain. To just take a step back and take care of myself.
But I already felt much better if exhausted after a day of dealing with Mom. Talking myself out of going to Jersey. Getting the courage to block her number and tell Dad it could be temporary depending on her behavior. On her respect for my boundaries. She had been my main obstacle, and it probably, no definitely wasn’t fair to conflate her voicemail today with Iain’s text.
Plus, I would be lying if I said I wasn’t currently happy that he was here.
That he’d been here.
Waiting for me in front of my apartment for who knows how long.
“I heard you went to find me at the bar,” I said, cracking a smile that he mirrored just enough to make me melt.
“Yeah.”
“Well… I don’t know what places Mia rattled off to you, but I definitely wasn’t there, so
I sincerely hope you didn’t go.”
He nodded and drew in a breath. “Then let’s just say I didn’t.”
I broke out in a laugh. “Oh God, where did you go today?”
“I was going to ask you the same.”
I bit back my smile, letting my eyes linger on him for a second.
I just had to soak in the moment for a bit. The quiet of the night. The fact that he was here.
The way that he was looking at me.
Like he’d spent all day thinking about me.
“Well, it’s kind of a long story and I really need to get into my apartment to wind down from this day,” I said, peering up at my window and taking the first step up the stairs. When I looked back at him, I was nearly his height, and I had a smile on my lips because I already knew his answer to my question. “Do you want to come up?”
“Yes,” he said so immediately I laughed.
“Okay, but for the record, we’re not having sex tonight.”
“That’s fine. I was going to say the same anyway.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Wait, what? Why?”
It was his turn to laugh at me. “Because I don’t want you thinking I came over tonight for any reason besides the real one,” he said earnestly.
“Which is?”
“That I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he answered easily. Then his brow furrowed. “I needed to.”
It was all I needed to hear.
And so we went upstairs.
So this is really happening, I thought, walking in front as we climbed the stairs of my third floor walk-up.
Iain Thorn is here. At your apartment. About to spend the night.
If only you knew, I thought as I turned my key in my door, wishing I could tell teenage me that her fantasies weren’t actually that crazy. That one day, I’d not only have my own place but be in there alone, at night, with my childhood crush. The man who’d first taught me what it was to want.
