Tangled in Vows (Tangled & Torn #2)

5. Olivia

Chapter 5

Olivia

You left without a goodbye, with no time to brace.

PRESENT DAY

“ S top giving me that look.” I glare at Stormy, who very openly judges me from her spot by the door. We slept in one of the upstairs guest bedrooms because there was no way I would sleep in my room.

She lets out a whine, and I sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

At that, she perks up and barks.

I zip my jacket, lower my cap on my face, and walk toward the door. I get whacked with an excited tail several times before I manage to open it.

Stormy pushes through the gap the second it’s big enough for her, immediately running downstairs. I know she needs to do her business, but I’m also sure that’s not the only reason she’s so excited to get out of here this morning.

Holden.

But it doesn’t matter. He’s not a part of my life anymore. And once we get the security stuff figured out, he’ll be on his merry way. We’ll go back to seeing each other in passing anytime I’m with Evie and he happens to be with Phoenix. Like divorced parents who only catch glimpses of each other when they drop off or pick up their kids. It’s cool. Nothing I can’t handle for a few more hours.

I walk toward the sound of laughter and barks, mumbling a curt, “Hey,” while purposefully avoiding the happy display. Instead, I stroll across the open living room to the kitchen, where I grab one of the vitamin waters from the fridge and a banana from the fruit bowl.

Stormy knows the drill and runs to her water bowl. After three sips, she sprints to the foyer and her leash. I make it two steps in the same direction when Holden appears before me and blocks my escape.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

I push my shoulders back and glance up at him. Since I’m only wearing sneakers, he’s towering over me. Not only with his height but also his width. He was already massive at twenty, but he’s added even more bulk since then. Add a ridiculously handsome face, and you’ve got yourself a lady killer named Holden.

His light-brown eyes bore into mine, holding me hostage now that we’re standing so close. We’ve both been playing the avoidance game so much that we’ve been successful at keeping at least five-to-seven feet between us at all times. Right now, it’s only about five-to-seven inches, or at least, it feels that way.

A low, pleasant hum warms my blood, slowly collecting in my lower abdomen.

It feels forbidden and dangerous.

My brain finally kicks in, and I step to the side.

Holden is a lady killer, huh?

More so a killer to my brain cells.

His hand shoots out to grab my wrist before I can get away.

“Just wait for a damn minute, will you?”

Despite people prodding and poking me all the time to get me ready for public appearances, I don’t like people’s hands on me much. I know it’s part of my job to get close to people sometimes, so I’ve mostly gotten used to it in that setting. But outside of that, people usually know my boundaries and respect them.

All those years ago, I got used to Holden’s casual touch. I’m not sure what I expected after not experiencing it for so long, but it certainly wasn’t the pleasant tingles spreading through my body. Similar to the first time he touched me in that fast-food place. It was an innocent touch but not unpleasant. There was just something about him that called to me. Maybe it was the pain still lingering in his eyes after he told me about his sister.

Holden’s gaze is elsewhere, lost in memory as I stare at him—the boy I just met—across the booth.

Then he blinks, focusing back on me, and says, “I’ll be your fake husband.”

A beat passes between us, and I snort. “You’re joking.”

His jaw flexes, and he shakes his head. “You need help, and I want to help.” He leans forward as much as the table allows and gently touches the tip of one of his fingers to mine. “Please.”

“Hurricane, did you hear me?”

I blink, snapping back to reality. A reality where Holden is not my husband anymore, not that he ever really was beyond on paper. After all, we sealed our marriage with a hug instead of a kiss. That’s how fake it was.

He was a stranger who helped you. He ensured you had a place to stay, food on the table, and everything you needed. And last night, he saved your ass again. Don’t be ungrateful.

He was my hero, and I trusted him. He made me feel safe. He made me believe I wasn’t a total waste of space and good enough to be considered a friend. And then he pulled the rug out from under me.

Maybe he just didn’t like you as much as you thought. Perhaps you did something that was the final push.

“Why can’t you be small, sweet, and quiet like my girls? I curse the day I agreed to take you in. I should have sent you into the foster care system instead. I thought with enough patience and work, you’d adjust and change, but you’ve been nothing but a big disappointment. Just like your mother. Too big. Too loud. Too angry. Always getting in trouble. The day she corrupted my brother and talked him into leaving our community, I knew she had some of the devil in her. As do you. But now I can’t give you away anymore, can I? Now, people would point their fingers at me and call me vile things.”

I shove my aunt’s poisonous words out of my head and inhale deeply. On my exhale, I force the destructive thoughts and feelings away before they eat me alive. Of not being wanted. Of not being good enough. Of not being lovable. Of being a burden.

Because I am wanted, good enough, and lovable.

Millions of fans around the world are proof of that. I make a difference out there in my own way. I’m content as long as my music can offer an escape, make people feel seen and heard, or ease some of their troubles. Happy even.

I am not a burden.

Just because I don’t fit in a box someone else made doesn’t mean I should change. Maybe the people who think so should be more concerned with their own lives and values rather than going after others. Especially when that person did nothing wrong.

Aunt Betty definitely thought you did plenty wrong. In fact, I’m pretty sure you never did a single thing right.

I had just lost my parents. The two people I loved the most. I was ripped away from my home and friends and dumped into a family, a community, I foolishly hoped would become my new safe place. Instead, it became my hell on earth. I didn’t deserve that. I didn’t deserve to go without a hug for years or to constantly be regarded with disgust and contempt.

Yes, I was an outsider, and the daughter of the woman who’d talked “one of their own” into leaving. But I was also only a child, an innocent, someone who desperately needed to be loved and feel safe.

But at least it taught me to be independent. It taught me there’s a difference between being alone and being lonely. Since I was both, I started writing down my thoughts in notebooks. Over time, they turned into lyrics, and I began humming the melodies I could hear so clearly in my head.

Thankfully, music was encouraged in the community, contrary to other “New Age” entertainment like TVs that only tainted everyone’s minds. For that reason, music quickly became my escape. My safe place and reprieve.

But most of all, it gave me hope. Hope for a better future, for a better chance at life where I’d have all the things my aunt and her community deprived me of. I’ll be okay as long as I don’t get too close to others.

I have my fans, lots of acquaintances, and Stormy. She’s my family. She loves me.

And now I have Evie too. Somehow, she barreled straight through my walls, as if they never existed in the first place, but I’m not mad about it.

I let those thoughts take over and soothe the anger and hurt in my heart. With some effort, I blink away the tears and open my clenched hands, refocusing on the man in front of me.

“Sorry, what?” My voice isn’t friendly, but it isn’t hostile either.

He seems taken aback by the change, and I don’t blame him. Since he first popped back into my life, all of our interactions have been full of murderous tension. But it’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. Especially after what happened last night. Even knowing I was safe with Holden here, I woke up to every noise and the constant possibility of another stranger breaking into my condo.

Unsurprisingly, Holden eyes me with suspicion. “Can you give me a moment to get ready? I’m coming with you.”

I knew he wouldn’t let me go alone, so I shrug. “Okay.”

He tilts his head to the side. “Okay?”

A sigh slips past my lips. “Yes, Holden. I’ll wait.”

He studies me like he’s worried I might sprint away the first chance I get. His stance finally relaxes, and he backs away from me. The additional space between us allows me my first real look at him this morning in his tight black T-shirt and dark-gray sweatpants.

“Are you wearing different clothes?”

Holden puts a hand on his chest. “Aww, you noticed. That’s so sweet.”

It takes all my willpower to keep from rolling my eyes at him.

It’s easy to keep my distance from him if he’s avoiding me just the same, or even if he’s his tough and intense bodyguard persona. But his playful side comes out, and I have to work extra hard to keep the lines between us in check. It reminds me too much of how things used to be. Of what I lost.

Stormy uses that instant to bark. Glad for the distraction, I turn to her. “Yes, girl. I know. I’m not the problem here.” To Holden, I say, “Hurry up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grabs a few things from the couch and disappears into the bathroom.

I pass the time by getting some much-needed snuggles from Stormy. When Holden reappears, his hair is pulled back into a neat bun, and he’s wearing a hoodie and sneakers.

We’re like a casual couple going for a Sunday walk with our dog. Just great. That’s exactly what I needed. The paparazzi will flip their lids.

I can already see the headlines: “Is Olivia Parker Off the Market? She and her handsome mystery man looked cozy as they went on a romantic stroll in the park.”

Are you sure you’re not projecting a little?

Also, it’s fascinating how “handsome” popped up again when thinking about Holden.

Ugh, I hate my brain.

Regardless, I don’t have a choice. Luke is still in the hospital and won’t be back for a while, and Stormy needs to get out to do her business. And after what happened last night, I’m not stupid enough to leave the house alone. With a groan, I put on my sunglasses and open the door. I see the two men by the door and start, but then I remember the officers are here as extra safety measures.

Once we’re in the foyer, I glance at Holden. “I hope you’re ready for this.”

“Ready for what?”

“You’ll see.” With a tight grip on the leash, and my sunglasses and hat covering half my face, I step through the revolving doors.

Only a handful of paparazzi are waiting, and after a quick smile, I lower my gaze. The questions come, but I tune them out. I have to.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the men come closer, but Holden steps between us.

“Hey, back off. Give Miss Parker some space.”

“Who are you?” The short man’s voice is shaky.

“Miss Parker’s new security, so I’ll only ask once more. Back off.”

A shiver runs down my back at the menace in Holden’s voice. Most of the men must hear it too, since they stay where they are. All except for the one who just spoke up.

He continues to approach, and Holden shoves him back with a push to his chest. “Don’t test me.”

The man finally lowers his camera and snarls at us, “Just trying to make a living.”

Holden ignores him and guides us away from the small crowd.

We decided on the long route through the park, and I’ve been soaking up as much sunshine as possible. Usually, a walk and some Vitamin D help me calm down. Today, my body is too wired.

Maybe there’s a chance we got lucky, and the pictures they got weren’t interesting enough. But what if they followed us? They might be taking pictures of us right now. It wouldn’t be the first time.

We’re only a few blocks away from home, and somehow, I dread returning. Out here, it’s easier to pretend everything’s okay. I can watch Holden throw the ball and Stormy chase after it. Just like old times.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. The text message from my publicist, Kenisha, slams me back to reality. That was a lot quicker than I thought.

Nisha: You’ve got a lot of explaining to do. I’ll be there in an hour.

“Shit.” I close my eyes. My stomach churns uncomfortably, and I know it’s not just because I haven’t eaten yet.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Everything okay?”

I heave a sigh and whistle for Stormy. “Not really. We have to go. My publicist will be at my place soon.”

“Your publicist? Because of last night?”

I shake my head and clip the leash to Stormy’s collar, but then I pause. “I’m not sure. I talked to her before I went to bed, and she said she’s handling the break-in.”

“What’s it about then?”

“She didn’t say. Just that I had a lot to explain.”

His gaze is so intense I can feel it burn into the side of my head. But I ignore him and don’t say anything else either. Instead, I let Stormy lead me out of the park and straight into what might possibly be the biggest clusterfuck of my career.