7. HOLDEN

HOLDEN

T he water from my shower stings against my tanned skin. I don’t remember the last time I was actually fully awake enough to enjoy a shower. Today still isn’t that day, and while my guilt drowns in the alcohol, I remember why I pray it knocks me on my ass. These days I’m just trying to find something to keep me distracted from the club, from Cole, and the ghost of my sister that haunts the compound.

Whiskey does that for me. And Layla. She keeps me company when the whiskey fails to do its job, and lately, it's been happening more and more that I find a brief solace in her. She doesn’t ask questions or glare at me every time I pick up the bottle.

Reaching up, I turn off the water, not remembering how or why my knuckles have become bruised and swollen. My body bumps into the edges of the small shower, twisting and turning to make it out of the small trailer bathroom. I could just shower in the house, but since Becca’s been gone, I haven’t been inside. Cole told me buying a trailer and parking it on her front lawn was ridiculous. That my little sister would kick my ass knowing her only brother wasn’t strong enough to walk through the front door. But I wanted to be close to her without actually being close. I don't deserve that yet.

Not after I failed her.

I make my way from the bathroom, kicking beer cans and stepping over the pillow I curled up with on the floor last night. I glance over at the half-eaten breakfast that Cole brought me. I hate when he tries to take care of me. It makes the guilt worse and only makes Cole the worry wart, well… worry. But I’m grateful that at least someone still gives a shit about me, especially since it's sure as shit not myself.

A long breath leaves me as I sit down on the edge of the shitty mattress. I know I should go to the shop, Cole asked me to be there, and I know he’s right. I gotta pull myself out of this hell. The guilt starts to flood back in when I think of all the people I’ve shut out and pushed away over the past few weeks. People who only wanted to be there for me during the hardest time of my life.

Since Becca died I feel alone, which makes me sound like an idiot when I have a whole club standing behind me and know that if I called any time, night or day, they’d be there for me. Every time I think of her goofy smile and the stupid nicknames she used to call me, my heart shatters again and images of that night take over my mind like an old movie I can’t seem to quit playing.

My breath hitches in my throat just thinking about her and my hand instinctively reaches for the bottle of whiskey, bringing it to my lips to wash down all the feelings currently swelling in my chest. Warmth fills my throat and spreads throughout my chest with the taste of the amber medicine. I take another swig, a shiver running through my bones as the warmth of the alcohol takes over.

I should go to the shop. I really should go to the shop and not disappoint the one person left in my life that depends on me. Then I remember the pitiful look he gave me this morning.

I reach for my phone, take a third swig, and dial the number that has given me peace for the last three weeks. I know Layla wants more from me. Being a part of the Hell Hounds has its perks, and one of them is being able to pick from any of the girls at Moon. Layla headlines there every Thursday night for the god-fearing pricks of this town who avoid spending time with their families. To her, I'm the meal ticket to go from being a dancer to Old Lady. To me, she's a way to keep my mind clear and dick warm. It rings once before I hear her voice on the other end.

“Holden?”

Hang up, I think.

“Yeah, Babe, it’s me.”

“Everything okay?”

“Need you.”

I hear her sigh on the other end. “Holden… It's early.”

Another swig. “Please, Layla.” It comes out almost whispering and desperate as hell, but I don’t care.

Silence comes through on the other line before I hear her suck in a breath. “Meet me at Moon in an hour.”

“Okay.” I hang up before she gets any ideas that this is more than what it is and lay back on the bed. I’m gonna regret this and I can already hear the shit storm Cole is going to lay on me. A month ago, I might have cared, but now?

Now all I want is not to think.