Chapter 21 Holt
TWENTY-ONE
HOLT
“These goddamn motherfuckers never learn,” my father spits, his eyebrows slanted in anger. He brushes the dead leaves resting on top of our mother’s headstone before taking a step back.
“It’s fall, Dad. Leaves die. They fall. That’s nature,” Julianna mutters beside me. She sniffs, the brisk, fall air nipping at her nose, causing it to turn a faint shade of red.
“Well.” He squares his jaw and shoves his hands in his pockets.
“I pay a groundskeeper an insane amount of money to maintain your mother’s gravesite.
It’s their sole job. It obviously hasn’t been tended to since we visited last month.
” My father turns to his assistant-slash-bodyguard.
“Fire the groundskeeper and hire another one. I don’t care the price. Tess deserves the best.”
I can’t help the snort that comes out of me. My father snaps his head in my direction, shooting me a glare. So does Julianna. Admittedly, her glare hurts worse than my father’s.
“Is there a problem, Holt?” he asks.
I frown and shrug. “No.”
Not buying my answer, my father steps closer to me. The late fall breeze blows through the cemetery. Dry, dead leaves tumble across the bright green grass, landing in a pile against my mother’s headstone.
Tess Horan Capuleti
Beloved wife and mother
Emotion is thick in my throat. I hate that every time I come here and look at her name engraved into this godforsaken chunk of stone, all I hear is the sound of the gun as a bullet was put into my mother’s head. And for what?
According to the police, there is no reason, but I’m not as easily convinced as them.
My father stands beside me, his anger evident in the way he hasn’t stopped glaring at me. What the hell is up his ass today? Despite our disagreement over my mother’s killer, we’ve had a great relationship. But with the way he’s looking at me now, I barely recognize him.
“Say it,” he says, curling his lip.
“Say what?”
“Say what’s on your mind.”
“Come on, you two,” Julianna says softly, standing between us. “You know Mom wouldn’t want you to do this today.” She arches a brow, throwing his words back at him. “She deserves the best, right?”
“She does.” My father sneers, not taking his eyes off me. “But I can tell Holt thinks otherwise.”
“It isn’t that I don’t agree,” I argue, a knot in my chest weaving tighter. “But I think it’s ironic how you say what Mom deserves depending on the situation.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” he grinds out, his salt and pepper-lined jaw tightening.
“If you genuinely cared, you’d want to find her true killer.”
I watch the fire rise in his eyes. I swear, his head might explode, but I don’t regret the words coming out of my mouth. Steam is practically billowing out of his ears.
But I’m over the fucking nightmares. I’m tired of everyone pushing what I know to be true aside. I’m exhausted by it all.
“Her real killer is in jail,” he barks. “When will you let this fucking go?”
“I won’t.” I raise my chin in the same way he has, defying him. “I truly believe Rhys O’Connell has something to do with it. I heard his name that night, and I heard it again—"
“Stop this! I’m through putting up with this bullshit!” He points his finger at my chest, his face beet red, and thick veins bulge from his neck. Even a large one appears in the middle of his forehead. “Drop it, Holt. I’m warning you, or else it’ll fucking kill you.”
The blood drains from my face and I squeeze my hand into a tight fist inside my pocket. I watch him leave us and walk back toward his car. He slips into the back seat, and within seconds, he’s gone.
“We come here once a month to honor Mom,” Julianna says beside me. “Is it really that hard for you to not press him about this when we’re here?”
“Yes.” I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“I just want you to let this go,” she begs, her voice strained.
“I want to let this go, too. You know that right?”
There are tears in my sister’s eyes. Her brown hair blows in the wind. It sticks to her cheeks, but she tucks the strands behind her ear. Tightening her coat, she wraps her arms around herself, then turns to face our mother’s grave. She drags her toe gently across the ground, staring at it blankly.
“How’s Selene?” she asks.
I’m shocked by her question.
She lifts her head up. “I talked with her about you last week. She told me about your date.”
My stomach bubbles with nerves. I hate talking relationships with my sister because her trust in me has eroded over the years.
I’ve shoved the sting of her distrust of me aside for so long.
But with Selene, it’s different. Everything about Selene is different.
I haven’t realized until this moment how much I long for my sister’s approval.
I usually couldn’t give a shit about her opinion, but I know hers is the one that matters most.
If only Julianna knew how desperately I’ve wanted Selene over the years. How I’ve secretly pined over her in secret.
“Julianna…” I start, but she cuts me off.
Her once-frustrated gaze has now shifted to one of acceptance.
Soft and kind eyes like our mother’s stare up at me.
“I gave her my approval if that’s what you’re worried about.
Not that either of you need it. But she did tell me you’re only dating her for the good publicity.
I’ve seen the photos and videos of the two of you all over social media.
It appears to be working, so great job.”
I open my mouth to explain, but she stops me again.
“I know that isn’t why you’re doing this with her, though.” Her bottom lip wobbles, and she inhales a deep breath.
It’s been too long since I’ve talked to my sister since that day she was in my office.
We argued then, and we’ve given each other space, but I still feel like there’s this distance between us.
We lost a piece of ourselves the night our mother died, and we’ve never gained it back.
We haven’t been the same, and I’ve been left longing for what we lost.
“I can tell there’s more to what you feel for her.
Did you propose the fake dating idea because Treena suggested it?
Or did you do it because you know Selene doesn’t date, and you thought it would bring you closer?
It was a way for you to show her the man you can be without scaring her off, wasn’t it? ”
Her line of questioning practically knocks me off my feet. My sister and I may not be as close as we used to be, but she still has the ability to see me in ways others don’t.
“Tell me I’m wrong, Holt.”
“I can’t.”
She nods, licking her lips. She avoids looking at me, coming to terms with my answer. “I knew it. But I’m telling you, Holt, Selene doesn’t love easily. She’s been through shit you can’t understand. She may not ever be able to give you what you want. Just keep that in mind.”
I think back to the other night when we were lying in my bed and she told me she couldn’t sleep.
She’d had a nightmare. I was never able to ask her why and haven’t dared to ask her since.
Selene is a walking vault full of secrets.
But I know she only does it to guard that massive heart of hers.
I’m hoping the more time we spend together, the more she’ll open up to me.
I often wonder what happened in her past to make her believe love isn’t and can’t be real.
There are times I see her softening, giving into the feelings she gets when we’re together.
She wouldn’t have slept with me if she didn’t feel at least the slightest fraction of something for me.
But then in other moments, she’s pulling away from me, slipping back into the role of being my fake girlfriend.
I can’t find it in myself to give up on her or this thing we’ve built yet. I need more. More touches. More kisses. More of showing her the man I truly am, not the one the papers or media believes me to be.
“I can’t help it. I’m falling for her, Jules.” It’s a relief being this honest, saying the words out loud. “Fuck, I take that back. I already have fallen for her. A long time ago.”
“I believe you. It’s hard for me to trust you but, somehow, I believe what you’re saying.” She tips her head to the side, narrowing her eyes. “Just… just be gentle with her.”
“I’m sorry, I’m confused.” I blink, thinking back to the night of the auction. “You told me to stay away from her, and I didn’t listen, but instead of ripping me apart as usual, you’re suddenly okay with it?”
Julianna turns her back on me, not answering my question. She stares at the city in the distance. We stand in silence.
I’m staring at my mother’s headstone, thinking about Selene and what she told me last night. She doesn’t believe in love. Not in the real world, anyway. But what do I do when I know I’m in love with her? How can I tell her without it making her want to run away?
I’m lost in my thoughts when Julianna finally turns back around.
Her eyes are wide. Tears well, lining her dark lashes. They spill over as her chin wobbles, and she worries her lip. There’s heartbreak written all over her face.
What the fuck is going on?
“I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen to every word.” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “And don’t do that thing you do where you cut me off and all that bullshit like you did last time.”
I jerk back. “Last time?”
She sighs and cracks her eyes open. Her tears have spilled over, and now there’s mascara streaming down her cheeks. “I just need you to hear me out.”
“Okay.” I feel like throwing up with how torn apart she looks. I can tell this is big.
She tightens her arms around her chest and huffs before pinning her eyes to mine. “I wrote the article.”
“What article?” I pinch my brow.
She sighs, stamping a frustrated heel into the ground. “The article, Holt. The anonymous one in your magazine about Rome.”
All the blood drains from my body. I feel lightheaded.
“What?” I breathe out, my lungs burning.