2. Olivia
Chapter 2
Olivia
You vanished from my world without a trace.
“ W hat? Olivia, wait. Stop.”
Holden’s fingers graze my elbow, but I’m already on the move and quickly slip away from him.
She’s going to be okay. She has to be.
“Where are you, sweet girl? I’m home.”
I rush through the dark living room toward the stairs that lead to the second level. Thank goodness for the night-lights, or I’d probably trip a million times.
Nothing but silence. Eerie.
Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?
The hairs at my nape stand up, and spots form in my vision. But I push the dizziness away. I can’t panic right now.
There’s still total radio silence except for my loud breaths and Holden’s mumbled curses behind me.
I’m running now, trying to push down the fear.
Nothing happened to her.
The second level is just as dark and ominous, except for the faint light spilling out of my bedroom.
My footsteps are silent on the carpet as I reach the open doorway and stop dead in my tracks.
What the fuck?
Am I in the wrong place?
I shake my head.
Obviously not.
Holden barrels toward me, and a sudden, overwhelming dread almost brings me to my knees.
Stop him.
It’s probably crazy and downright laughable, but I ignore that.
My hand shoots up, covering Holden’s mouth just as he’s opening it.
His eyes widen in disbelief, and I’m not sure who’s more shocked at my sudden ninja skills.
But this keeps him out of sight, which is precisely what I want.
Just for a minute or two until I can figure out where my girl is.
The man on the bed—on my bed—chuckles softly. “There you are, babe. I thought you abandoned our plans.”
I have no idea who this guy is.
Yet, here he is, a complete stranger . . . in my bed of all places.
And he just called me babe.
Holden goes rigid next to me, slowly taking my hand off his mouth.
I’m sure he’s ready to play hero and barge in there, but I need to know what’s going on first. Knowing this asshole will pay soon helps me stay somewhat in control though.
“Hey.” I try to sound as nonchalant as possible. There’s a reason why I’m a singer and not an actress. I want to rip the grin off his face and shove it up his ass, and I’m sure part of that shows. “What . . . what are you doing here?”
The man’s eyes widen before he smiles. “Oh, is this how you want to play it? Like we’re strangers? A little role-play?”
The guy gets off the bed, and oh my God, he’s naked.
And if his hard dick is any indication, he enjoys the idea of role-play.
Trying to appear calm is getting more challenging by the second. I breathe through my mouth, as if that could keep my nausea at bay.
The audacity of this guy. Coming into my home. My safe place.
Anger spirals from the pit of my stomach, and I can hear the blood rushing through my head.
A shudder runs through me at his approach, and I instinctively step back, my left hand now clenching Holden’s shirt.
Despite our issues, I’m grateful I’m not alone.
And to think I was trying to ditch him in the garage. I’ve never been so appreciative of someone else’s stubbornness, even if that someone is on my shit list.
I hold up my right hand. “Stop. One second.” I add a small laugh, hoping it’s enough to lighten the mood. Calm the situation.
To my surprise, the guy listens.
I try to look anywhere but at his dick, only to catch sight of the gleaming knife in his hand.
Shit.
Knives are bad. Really, really bad.
He notices where my attention is and twirls it between his fingers.
“What do you think, baby? I got it just for you. I know how much blood play turns you on.” His voice is low and thick with lust.
Holden’s chest vibrates underneath my touch. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t pushed me out of the way yet.
The intruder’s dick jumps in excitement, and my entire body tenses. Because I’m trying so hard to appear calm on the outside, I’m a mess on the inside. My chest is burning. Beads of cold sweat run down my neck and back. Nausea is an abhorrent passenger in my stomach. My blood pressure isn’t anywhere near healthy, and my mind is spinning out of control with worry and anger at the forefront.
I want to crumble to the floor and have a good cry. But I also want to charge him like Xena, the warrior princess, so this is all over.
One thing is clear: this guy drank the wrong Kool-Aid.
A nervous laugh escapes my lips while I try to figure out how to continue this. Especially since Holden is pressing harder against my hand, his patience running out. I probably don’t have much time left before he takes over. “Was . . . was the place empty when you got here?”
The intruder hums, his features switching to concern. “Aww, I’m sorry. Are you worried about your girl? Why didn’t you say so? I put her in the studio so she won’t interrupt our alone time. That’s what you wanted me to do, right?”
The studio. The soundproof studio. Of course.
My relief is so severe that my knees give out for a moment.
Thankfully, Holden keeps me upright with his firm grip.
I glance at him, giving him my best He’s-all-yours-look.
Knowing Holden will take care of the guy, I don’t waste another second and run toward the room a few doors down.
Satisfying grunts and wails sound behind me just as I reach my destination.
I open the door, and seventy-five pounds of fur land on me before I can blink. I fall back and dig my hands into it, happily accepting all the kisses. “Oh, sweet girl. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Olivia!” Holden approaches and mumbles. “Holy shit, our little Stormy.”
At the sound of his voice, my girl stares up. After a moment of hesitation, she leaps straight toward him. He catches her exactly like he did when she was still a puppy. Holden and I were still friends back then. If we were ever actually friends.
But that doesn’t matter now. He helped me out big time back then, and I shouldn’t have expected anything beyond that. Now, if I could just stop being so angry every time he’s around, that would be helpful.
My big Alaskan malamute licks him all over his idiotic, handsome face, and he chuckles.
Stormy clearly doesn’t hold a grudge against him. I think she should have at least made him grovel with some treats first. But I guess that’s just me. Not that he could ever offer me anything to forgive him. He can burn in hell for all I care.
With a sigh, I get up and brush off my pants.
I avert my gaze, unfortunately catching sight of the naked guy. For a second, I told myself it was just a bad dream. His body is half in and half out of the bedroom, and thankfully, his junk is hidden from this angle.
“Is he . . . is he dead?”
Holden sighs. “Sadly not. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with a murder in your home, so I only knocked him out.” He sounds genuinely upset about that. “But we should probably restrain him and call the cops. Do you want me to get a hold of the detective I know?”
I hate relying on others, but this isn’t a normal circumstance. “Yes, please.”
Holden’s still holding Stormy to his chest like she’s a small child rather than a full-grown-ass dog. He brushes his hand down her back and smirks at me. “Look who can be a good girl and say please.”
Don’t get that knife and kill him.
You still need him.
He knows the cops and can deal with this mess a lot quicker.
I bite down the many remarks that threaten to resurface and simply say, “Don’t.”
My pent-up emotions want to destroy him, but this situation needs to be handled first. Maybe I can yell at him once there isn’t a naked guy in my condo anymore. Then I can kick him out.
“Yes, ma’am.” He presses his lips together. “Any chance you have some zip ties?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Good. I want you to go back into the studio with Stormy until I get you. I just want to make sure there aren’t any other surprises waiting for us.”
My heart speeds up again at the possibility. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. Still, images of what-ifs flash through my mind.
No, everything’s going to be okay.
It’s just a precaution.
Nothing is going to happen to Stormy or you. And Holden is going to be okay too.
“Come on.” He closes the distance between us, and Stormy lets out a sigh.
I swear, that girl is smiling.
Ridiculous.
Holden opens the door to the studio, and after a quick walkthrough, he lets a protesting Stormy down and ushers me inside. “Stay here until I tell you the coast is clear. Got it?”
Although I hate listening to him, I’m also not stupid. “Yes, sir.”
Something flashes in his eyes, but I ignore it. “The zip ties are in the junk drawer next to the fridge.”
The second the words are out of my mouth, I bite my cheek.
He might not remember how I made fun of him and his junk drawer when he first showed it to me.
But he smirks, and I know he remembers.
Of course he does.
Sometimes, it’s hard to forget.
“Holden, do you have a Sharpie?”
“Yeah, in the junk drawer in the kitchen.”
I pause and laugh. “What’s a junk drawer?”
He walks into the room, rubbing a towel through his wet hair. “You don’t know what a junk drawer is?”
I wait for him to tell me he’s joking, but he doesn’t. “No?”
“Well, prepare yourself to be amazed then.” He opens the last drawer under the counter. “Ta-da.”
I look from his pleased expression to the sea of items: markers, paper clips, rubber bands, tissues, Ziploc bags, gum, Post-its, sunscreen, coins, playing cards, labels, an old camera, and condoms. I grab a Sharpie and slam the drawer shut.
Although I’m pulled out of the memory, the warmth and affection of it lingers in my chest. Loss and pain follow, and I bury my face in Stormy’s fur until the door clicks shut.
Since she’s a traitorous girl, she whines like she’ll never see him again.
Been there, done that. Do not recommend.
For a while, I just stare around the room aimlessly. The couch on the left, the mixing table on the right, the enclosed booth beyond the glass window. The large screens. The chair. The oversized plant in the corner. An open book upside down on the small coffee table. A half-empty water bottle.
How can everything seem so normal after something so appalling just happened a few doors down?
My chin trembles.
It’s okay. You’re safe now.
I put my clammy hand on my heart as one of my favorite podcasters suggested. “I’m okay. I’m safe. I’m loved.”
I repeat it several times until a tear rolls down my cheek.
“There you are, babe. I thought you abandoned our plans.”
“What do you think, baby? I got it just for you. I know how much blood play turns you on.”
His smirk. His excitement. His obvious lust.
Bile travels up my throat, and I cover my mouth. After several deep breaths through my nose, the nausea subsides.
How the fuck did that guy even get in? There are so many security measures. Key cards. Cameras. Door attendants and guards.
And why did he sound like we knew each other, and I told him to meet me here? I’ve never seen this man in my life. At least, not that I remember.
Stormy whines, and I brush my shaky hands through her fur.
Since Holden told me to wait, I lean back against the wall and hum under my breath.
It doesn’t help as much as it usually does. At least the uncontrollable shaking stops eventually, and my heart beats steadier.
I’ve gotten through two songs when the door opens. Stormy is off my lap, tackling Holden until he sits with her in the chair.
“We’re all good. The place is secure.” The muscles in his jaw tense. This is affecting him too. “I took care of the guy, and the cops are on the way.”
I blow out a breath. “Thank you.”
The tendons in his neck are so strained his pulse is visible. “No problem.”
His attention shifts back to my needy girl, and I use the chance to study him.
When I started hanging out with Evie, I thought Holden would get in the middle of my friendship with her. After all, he was the one who disappeared without a word. But he didn’t. Most of the time, we just try to avoid each other. Tonight was an exception because neither of us could miss Evie and Phoenix’s vow renewal.
Although, I could never ask Evie to choose between Holden and me anyway.
Do I have a beef with him? Yes, absolutely.
Am I beyond grateful he brought her to one of my concerts to meet me? Also, yes.
But is he one of her best friends? He definitely is.
Nevertheless, I’d never risk my friendship with her. Not once have I clicked with another woman as I did with her, and I don’t want to jeopardize that.
Holden also saved you in ways you can never repay.
He helped me escape the life my family and entire community tried to force me into. No matter the cost, they wanted to fit me into a mold that wasn’t meant for me.
So Holden saved me from a life of misery by marrying me.
Then, before the year ended, he disappeared and sent me divorce papers via mail.