Tangled in Vows (Tangled & Torn #2)

20. Holden

Chapter 20

Holden

Day 681 without you: It’s been almost two years since I last saw you. That’s worse than being locked up.

S omething is going on with Olivia, but I have no idea what.

Something in addition to all the shit we’re already dealing with.

After the last twenty-four hours, I almost expected things to be awkward. Maybe there’d even be some sadness, shock, or anger.

But when she walked into the kitchen this morning, she seemed mostly rushed, maybe even nervous.

Something must have happened during her conversation with Heather, who also seemed a bit flustered when she left. Which was nothing compared to how I found Olivia shaking on the couch, holding on to herself as if her life depended on it.

But she didn’t react to me talking to her, so I gently placed my hand on her back, and she jumped up like something bit her.

I only had a moment to notice her wide, panicked gaze and ashen pallor before she made up some excuse about being tired and needing to lie down. She ran out of here like her ass was on fire.

Stormy walks up to where I’m sitting on the couch and nudges my leg.

I dig my fingers into her fur. “I know. I don’t think it’s good she’s hiding in her room either.”

She lets out a quiet whine and stares at me with big eyes.

“Well, what do you want me to do?”

Another whine.

“Fine. I’ll try to talk to her.”

Just as I’m about to get up, my phone buzzes in my pants with a text message.

Archer: The crew just left. We both know this isn’t my specialty, but it looks pretty neat.

Me: Thanks for letting me know. Something came up, so I’m not sure if we’ll make it there today.

Archer: What happened?

Me: Nothing that I know of. She knows Felix is dead. But she seemed fine this morning. Heather was here earlier. Once she left, Olivia seemed shaken and went straight into her room.

My phone rings.

“You told her about Felix?” Archer whistles in my ear.

“Yup.”

“Wow. How did she take it?”

I close my eyes. “She was obviously shocked.”

“I bet she was. You didn’t tell her about your involvement though?”

He whispers involvement as if Olivia could hear him through the phone.

“No, Archer. I didn’t tell her about my involvement .”

“Well, there’s always tomorrow, I guess.”

I raise a brow, although I know he can’t see me. “Why are you so eager for me to tell her?”

The line goes quiet, so I pull my phone away to check the call is still connected. “Arch?”

He exhales loudly. “Because I like her, and I’m tired of this standing between you two.”

This is the first time he’s mentioned anything like this. “Why?”

“First of all, I think she deserves the truth. And I also think you should figure out your shit together. You both seem a bit lost.”

This time, I stay quiet, so he adds, “Maybe you should take the leap and see what’s waiting for you on the other side. You might be surprised by what you find.”

For a second, it’s hard to breathe. Damn Archer. He’s ninety-eight percent fun and games and two percent insightful and caring friend. I’m unsure which part I needed more today, but that wasn’t my choice anyway.

His words repeat in my head.

Take the leap. Take the leap. Take the leap.

“I . . .” Images of Olivia calling me terrible names and regarding me with utter disgust and fear in her eyes flit through my mind.

I don’t know if I can do this.

What if she kicks me out of her life and something horrible happens to her because of that?

I’d never forgive myself for that.

I clear my throat. “I’ll think about it.”

“Fair enough.” Archer sighs. “I’ll be gone for a bit later, but hopefully, I’ll catch you whenever you get here.”

“Thanks, Arch.” I’m not sure what I’m thanking him for. His help, his advice, giving me a call? It doesn’t matter.

While Phoenix and I bonded in prison, Archer and I bonded as teenagers. Both of us wild and hungry for life. Both a bit violent and lost.

“Anytime, man. And keep me updated. If anything seems weird or out of the ordinary, let me know. At this point, we shouldn’t rule out a single thing or person, no matter how strange they seem.”

“Got it.”

We hang up, and I stare at my phone before I heave a deep breath and head toward Olivia’s room.

My first knock stays unanswered. My second one gets a low murmur in response.

I grab the door handle. “Are you decent?”

I’m not sure why I ask. At this point, my worry over her safety is battling my attraction to her, giving my mind a run for its money.

An affirmative hum sounds through the door—at least it sounded affirmative to me—and I open it.

Olivia’s on her bed, staring at the ceiling. The moment I enter, she closes her eyes, keeping them shut as I approach. But even from across the room, I can see the red tip of her nose and her blotchy face.

What the hell?

My muscles tense, and I rush the rest of the way. “What happened?”

She doesn’t move. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Shit. I can deal with angry Olivia any given day of the week. I’m used to her turning most emotions into anger; she’s always done that. Is she sad or disappointed about something? She doesn’t retreat like others might. She attacks, not holding back her anger. She calls people out, refuses to back down, and tells people no if challenged.

It’s something I had to coax out of her after we met. I loved the relieved look in her eyes every time she was able to let out all of her pent-up emotions.

Her aunt is to blame for that. Olivia once mentioned that if she told her aunt no, her face would turn so red, she thought either her head would explode, she might strangle her, or dump her somewhere in the middle of nowhere. After a while, her aunt had enough of her antics and simply locked her away until she saw reason. Reason being agreeing with whatever her aunt said.

And she spent almost six years with her aunt. For six years, she wasn’t allowed to be who she truly was.

That’s why I don’t mind if she’s angry, like in the club bathroom when she yelled at me for leaving her.

But I don’t know how to handle this crushed, withdrawn, almost apathetic Olivia, and I hate that. The rare times she’s shown any vulnerability since I’ve known her usually happened when she was drunk or something slipped through her armor without her realizing what she’d revealed.

Like the time she asked me if it was okay to put pictures of her parents in her apartment. I offered to help her hang them up, and she pulled a handful of photos from random non-fiction books. Her cheeks turned red when she noticed my stare, and she quickly explained fiction books weren’t allowed in the community. Neither were TVs. According to the leaders, it was all rotting their brains.

I didn’t point out how wrong or appalling all of it was, but it seemed that someone had forbidden her to have pictures of her parents, and she had to hide them from her aunt.

I swallow the lump in my throat. “Wanna go for a ride?”

“Not today, Holden.”

A painful lump forms in my throat at her voice. It’s thick and full of emotion.

“I don’t know what happened, but maybe it’ll help to get out for a while?” My voice is gentle because even Olivia, who thinks she always needs to be strong, deserves to be treated gently. Maybe even more so. If I knew she’d let me, I’d do it a lot more. “I have something I want to show you. A surprise.”

Her chest lifts and lowers as I wait for an answer. She didn’t say no outright this time, so I take that as a win. And at this point, every win counts.

I play what I hope is my ace. “Stormy’s coming too.”

At that, she does open one eye to peek at me. “She is?”

Gotcha.

“Yup.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the stupid big grin at bay.

She sighs and mutters, “Fine.”

The urge to pull her into my arms is strong, so I push my hands into my pockets. “We’re leaving in five.”

I can’t help it and snort at her mumbled, “Yes, sir.” It conveys about the same enthusiasm as if I’d just asked her if she wanted to go to the dentist.

I can only hope she’ll enjoy her surprise as much as I think she will, and I didn’t assume too much.

Five minutes later, she shuffles downstairs, her gaze firmly on the floor. “Let’s go.”

There’s a bite to her tone, meaning she’s probably spent the last five minutes rebuilding those walls and possibly enforcing them with steel this time for good measure.

At least she’s willing to spend time with me. Another win in my book.

I pat my pockets to check I got everything: phone, keys, Tic Tacs, gun. Check. I’m just about to grab the drinks from the counter when I notice what she’s wearing. The leggings are the same as earlier, but now she’s also sporting a faded black hoodie.

One that’s very familiar.

Olivia closes the front door behind her, my keys dangling from her fingers. Maybe it’s weird she has her own set since she lives in the apartment next to me, but I enjoy knowing that she feels safe enough here, with me, to walk in so freely.

I get a good look at her and put on my most serious face. “Hurricane, do I need to hide my silverware from you?”

She stops mid-step, her brows drawing together. “What?”

I take a step toward her. “I’m talking about the fact you’ve been stealing from me.”

Her eyes widen as she steps back, frantically shaking her head. “No, no. I swear, I didn’t steal anything from you. I’d never do that.”

I jump forward and wrap the strings of the black hoodie she’s wearing around my fist to drag her closer to me, leaving only a few inches between us. “Last I checked, this is my hoodie, you little thief.”

She blows out a breath and hits my chest. “Oh my God, you’re such a jerk. You scared me.”

I chuckle and swing my arm over her shoulders to pull her into the kitchen with me. “As a consequence, you’re on dinner duty tonight.”

I yank her closer, and she laughs, the sound pure music in my ears.

“Are you coming?” Olivia gazes at me from the door—shoes on, leash on Stormy, and sunglasses in place.

I nod and swallow the question about the hoodie, although it’s burning in my throat.

After leaving the security details with information about our absence, we head toward the garage, where Jax and two more security guards are waiting. We leave together, with Jax in a black SUV in front of us and the other behind us.

The sky is gloomy, painted in various grays, perfectly portraying the mood in the car.

We work through the busy city streets until we finally reach the less crowded freeway. Olivia is quiet, her head tilted toward the window, shielding her eyes from me with her sunglasses.

“Do you want to pick some music?” I glance at her and see her deep inhale. “You can use my phone or connect yours.”

“I’m fine with whatever.” Her voice is quiet. Completely monotone.

Fuck.

I know we all go through low phases in our lives. Sometimes, they last a few hours or days. Other times, it’s weeks, months, or even years. They are brutal to get through yourself, but watching someone else go through them is also challenging. Especially when you feel helpless and don’t know how to help. Being there for them is always a good start, even if it sometimes doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

I want her to understand . . . to realize what she means to me. What I’d do for her. I want to tell her I’m back for good and here for her. I want to support her in any way I’m capable of. I can be her best friend. Her distraction. Her safe place. Her escape. Her anchor, the way I promised I’d be. I’ll be whatever she needs me to be, but she has to let me in. I know it’s not easy after what she went through, but I’ll wait for however long it takes to regain her trust.

We take the exit, and Olivia straightens in her seat. “Are we going to Evie?”

“Nope.”

“Isn’t this the way to her place?”

“It is.”

She huffs, the confusion and probably slight irritation practically radiating off her.

I smile because her feistiness totally does it for me.

Come on, Hurricane. Be wild and courageous. Whisk me up in your frenzy. Destroy me.

She crosses her arms. “Where are we going then?”

My dick twitches. Sue me.

“It’s a surprise.”

There’s rustling behind us, and two seconds later, Stormy pops her head between our seats.

Olivia snuggles the side of her head. “Hey, sweets.”

Stormy licks the side of her face and moves around, letting out a quiet woof .

Olivia nods at her. “I know. He won’t tell me either.” She peeks around Stormy’s enormous head, fixing me with narrowed eyes. “Maybe he’ll tell you?”

Stormy follows her gaze and dutifully leans toward me.

I keep my left hand on the steering wheel and scratch her under the chin with my other one. “We’re almost there. Just another minute or two.”

To my surprise, Olivia doesn’t push further and remains quiet until the vehicle in front of us slows down.

I navigate through the tall gate and follow the winding driveway to the modern three-story manor.

Olivia leans forward, staring out the windshield. “Oh wow, it’s beautiful. Whose house is it?”

“Ours.” I park the car in the circular driveway and say, “Welcome home, Hurricane.”