Chapter 29 Holland
HOLLAND
I stood in front of my bedroom’s full-length mirror and stared at the fading bruises on my neck.
Three days had passed since Kip had attacked me.
When he’d offered me the chance to leave, I had to go.
Not to punish him, but he’d terrified me.
I needed to wrap my head around what had happened, because I knew damn well Kip wouldn’t hurt me like that.
Rough sex, breaking into my house, stalking me, killing men?
Sure. But not hurting women. It went against what he did with the society. It went against his moral compass.
That was the moment everything snapped into place. The signs. The blackouts. The look on his face when he didn’t know me. I couldn’t say it out loud—not yet. Not until I had proof. But I knew. And if I was right … It changed everything.
Thanks to Kip, my bosses thought I was dealing with a family emergency, so I didn’t need to report to work yet. I located my cell on my nightstand and pulled up Monster in my contacts.
Me:
I miss you.
Even with the scare, I messaged him several times a day. I didn’t want him to think I’d disappeared. I wouldn’t abandon him, but I had to have some space to dig into my suspicions.
My phone chimed.
Monster:
You too. I’m working tonight to keep myself busy, and not to break into your home and watch you sleep.
I couldn’t resist a smile. He was doing everything he could to keep it together, and I had more respect for him than ever before.
He’d been abused, used, and broken. But what I’d seen was on a new level, and I couldn’t turn off my training at this point.
I had to find the answers, and I knew exactly who was going to give them to me even if they didn’t want to.
A surge of dark anger rushed through me.
It was the same feeling that fueled me when I’d killed Dom.
I took a deep breath, allowing that fury to drive me.
After all, the best revenge was waiting so long they never saw me coming.
I chose a scarf from my closet along with pressed dark-wash jeans and a comfortable baby blue top.
I needed to be able to move quickly, so I slipped on my Nikes.
My pulse stammered against my wrist. I’d dreamed about this day for a long damn time, but it never occurred to me it could become reality.
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I tipped up my chin in the mirror.
“Do this for you, Holland. Do this for Ally. Do this for the man that you’re falling in love with. Set you all free.”
The hour drive seemed like an eternity as I turned the conversation in my mind over and over. No matter what, I had to stay in my psychiatrist head and not spiral into the chaos clawing at my insides.
The house was pristine as I parked my car in the driveway and assessed my location.
I sat in my car and noted the front and back entrances.
No matter where I was, I always marked the exits.
Some habits never died after captivity. Know your surroundings, be aware, be ready to kill at a moment’s notice.
I climbed out of the car and snatched my purse from the passenger seat.
Slinging the strap over my shoulder, I steeled myself and felt the reassuring weight of the gun through the bag.
Each step I took echoed sharply against the pavement, slicing through the quiet morning air.
The birds chirped innocently, creating an illusion of tranquility.
But I knew the reality beneath that facade.
The front door cracked open before I reached it, and a woman with kind eyes smiled at me.
“I’m Cynthia,” she said, motioning for me to come in.
“Hi, I’m Holland. The fibrosis clinic sent me to do a quick evaluation on Lily.” I gave her a warm smile, inviting her to trust me. “The insurance has threatened to stop paying her bills unless we get this done.”
“Damn insurance. She’s dying—what else do they want? They’re getting their money. Can’t they let her die in peace?”
“It’s frustrating for sure. I would just hate for her family to have large medical bills to pay after she …”
Cynthia frowned, and her lips pressed together. “You’re right. And her son. He’s a great guy. Kind, protective, always checking on her.” She closed the door behind me, and I stepped inside, glancing toward the kitchen.
The sleek granite countertops were white-veined with soft gray in contrast to the matte-black cabinets with gold handles, polished to a mirror shine.
A farmhouse sink gleamed under the window, framed by sheer linen curtains that floated with the light breeze from the air conditioning.
The backsplash glittered with tiny white and black mosaic tiles.
For a heartbeat, I almost forgot where I was. Almost.
But then the details sharpened. The granite—cracked at the corner, a hairline fracture creeping across it like a scar.
The brass handles were rubbed raw in places from obsessive polishing.
The air smelled faintly of roses, but underneath, there was something sharp, chemical—like bleach clinging to the grout.
A crucifix hung above the stove, the edges worn smooth where it had been traced over and over. I suspected not in devotion, though, in penance. My stomach twisted. I remembered those hands. I remembered how they offered cookies one moment and gave me away the next.
The refrigerator rattled softly, its surface covered in pastel magnets and yellowing scraps of paper with Bible verses in delicate, looping script.
My fingers drifted to the butcher block, tracing the deep scars etched into the wood.
For a second, I was young again—feet swinging from a tall chair, a glass of milk sweating on the table. I had no idea what was waiting.
Outside the window, white roses bloomed like they were trying too hard. Too white. Too perfect. But just past them, I saw the weeds, black and gnarled, climbing up the trellis, fighting their way in. Add a little glitter to anything and it hides the ugly.
My thoughts returned to why I was here, and I curled my hands into balls. I wasn’t a little girl anymore. And this time, I wasn’t the one who would be begging.
I left the kitchen on shaking legs while my heart thudded hard in my throat, a brutal, punishing drumbeat as I crossed the house.
The hallway was silent—too silent. No creaks in the floorboards, no low murmur of a TV, no trace of life.
The door to Kip’s mother’s bedroom was cracked open. For a second, I simply stood there, staring at it. My fists clenched at my sides, nails biting into my palms.
I pushed it open.
The room was dim, heavy with the scent of lavender and sickness.
Soft white curtains filtered the late light, and an oxygen machine hissed quietly in the corner.
She lay in a massive four-poster bed, wrapped in a pale blue blanket, her silver hair spread neatly over the pillow like someone had combed it just so.
She looked smaller than I remembered; much frailer. Her skin had thinned to near translucence, and her bones were prominent under her papered flesh. Her hands were folded loosely on her chest. For a horrible second, I thought she was already gone.
Then her eyes opened. The same eyes. Pale blue, sharp as a scalpel. Her lips pulled into the faintest, knowing smile.
“I was wondering,” she rasped, voice thin but laced with something that still cut deep, “when you would visit.”
Something inside me cracked. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. Instead, I stepped forward, my jaw tight with tension.
“I’m not here to wish you well,” I whispered. “I’m here to watch you die.”
Something I couldn’t identify flickered across her expression as I stepped closer. For a moment, I wondered if she even recognized me. But then her lips curled into that same knowing smile.
“I always knew you’d come back,” she whispered.
I let out a shaky breath. “Stop.”
Her smile didn’t falter.
“You think you broke me,” I said, my tone carrying a steel edge. “You think what you and my father did—selling me, handing me off like a piece of property—made me small. Weak.” A bitter laugh caught in my throat. “You didn’t break me. You made me dangerous.”
Her jaw set and her fingers twitched against the blanket. I stepped closer, close enough to see the faint tremble in her jaw.
“You made me smart. You taught me how to survive in the dark. You made sure I learned to cut before anyone could cut me.” My voice cracked, rage and grief coiled tight in my chest. “You made me into everything you were too much of a coward to face.”
For the first time, the smile slipped a fraction.
My heart hammered against my ribs as flashes of the past played in my mind. “But here’s the thing.”
Her eyes snapped to mine with a hint of anticipation.
“I know what you did to Kip.”