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The phrase comes out, slightly slurred. And, if Holly’s reaction is anything to go by, she doesn’t even realize what she’s said. Her smirk remains plastered on her perfectly made-up face. Like she’s hyper-pleased about something.
“What did you just say?”
Her expression falters, only barely. “You’re thinking too much,” she mumbles. Her nails rake up my torso, seeking to draw me in close to her. She presses her hips strategically to mine as if that will sway me off course.
I step away from her. “What did you just say, Holly?”
Again, she rolls her eyes. I could pluck them out of her head for as much as she does that shit with me. “Don’t be like this, Reese. Come on, let’s have a little fun. You’ll be sober enough to remember it this time.”
I hate the way she says that. Her tone is slimy, like a slug sliding down my back, leaving a trail of filth and bad decisions in its path.
I sneer and shake my head. “I don’t think so. There wasn’t shit about this little arrangement that included us ever fucking again. We got Violet; I’m not trying to subject another kid to have you as a mother.”
Anger glints through Holly’s eyes. She’s got a nasty mean streak and, as much as I know I shouldn’t, I can’t help exploiting that shit. If it’s the only form of entertainment that I’m gonna get from her, then I’ll risk her trying to break something over my head in the process.
In my defense, she’s a terrible fucking person.
“You think that wasn’t part of the deal?” she says, her voice dangerous. “We’re together now, Reese. We’re married. I think that means a few things are a given, doesn’t it? If you’re not allowed to be with anyone else, who else is going to meet those needs of yours?”
Holly saunters close to me again. She dips her finger into the waistband of my jeans and tugs me toward her.
“Don’t be dense, Reese. We both know what this is.” She smiles. “Think of it this way: we’re both getting something out of this, right? Let me?—”
“I said fucking no,” I snarl, grabbing her wrist. But, I don’t shove her away and I don’t let her go. “I’m not fucking stupid, either. Answer the question. What. Did. You. Mean?”
She blinks slowly. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t?—”
“STOP FUCKING WITH ME!”
I roar it in her face. I’ve never raised my voice like this to a woman. Not after living my whole childhood seeing the kind of piece of shit my father was. I may have fucked around in my time, but I never treated women like that.
Well, fuck that. Some people get what’s coming to them.
And Holly is sawing hard on my last thread of being able to hold myself together.
“You don’t want to go down this route, Reese?—”
“What route, huh?” I grip her shoulders. I keep my whole presence in her space so she understands that I’m not one to fuck with right now. “The route where you tell me just what in the fuck you’re talking about? ‘Cause I think I like that route. That route sounds like there’s some actual truth to it.”
I don’t realize how hard I’m squeezing her until she yelps out. But it’s not that sound that makes me let go of her—it’s what she says after it.
“I’ll hurt Olivia if you don’t let me go!”
That snaps me away from her with a quickness. “The fuck are you talking about?”
A cold look goes across her eyes. The last light of humanity in her snuffing itself out. She sneers up at me, trying to mask her fear with haughtiness. “Did you really think that I was just going to let her walk free? So she could ruin everything that I’ve worked for? I know you’re a hockey player and you’ve taken a few hits to the head, but come on.” She juts out her chin. “I’ve got you for keeps, Reese. And I’m not trying to have some bitch with a savior complex stop me from taking what’s mine!”
I stare down at her, not believing what I’m hearing. Olivia was set free. That was the condition. That was the deal.
But as I look into Holly’s eyes, I can tell she isn’t lying. Not this time.
“You… you?—”
“I lied,” she hurls at me before I can even complete the thought. “Because it was so fucking easy to do it to the both of you. Well—not her. She didn’t believe for a second that little letter I made you write. It doesn’t matter. You’re not going anywhere if you want her to stay alive?—”
