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“No, just those two features. I swear.” His face clouded with emotions I didn’t understand. “When I was fifteen ...” He wiped the moisture away from his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I won’t go into all of the details, but she’d gotten into trouble—drugs, alcohol, and she was involved with some bad people. I was able to talk her into going to rehab, but as soon as she got out, she went right back to partying. My parents kicked her out the day she turned eighteen. They washed their hands of her.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that was on everyone,” I said softly.
“It was difficult for them, but not for the reasons most people would think. My parents have a certain standard and reputation they work hard to manage. Hannah didn’t fit that image.”
I pursed my lips together, the voice inside my head whispering that I sure as hell didn’t fit into their perfect world, either.
“When Brynn said I was the black sheep it was because I was the only one in the family that refused to give up on Hannah and it caused problems. I would buy her clothes and pay her rent, but it didn’t seem to make any difference ...” He trailed off, his features darkening.
“Over the next two years, Hannah couch-hopped, but she was so deep into the drugs, she stole from her friends to support her habit. Anything that she could find of value, she took.”
Holden’s gaze connected with mine and my pulse pounded in my head. The pain in his expression gutted me, and I wanted to reach inside of him, hold his heart in my palm, and breathe hope and life into it again. This wasn’t the same Holden that had made me breakfast a week and a half ago. This Holden was broken and dark. I understood this man more than he would ever realize.
“Eventually, she burned bridges with everyone who loved her. She ended up on the streets and was homeless for about a year.” A storm brewed in his eyes, and he studied the floor for a moment.
Realizing I still had his hand in mine, I rubbed my thumb over his fingers in an attempt to help him get through the hell he was reliving.
“I searched for her for weeks, but she moved around a lot. The last time I’d spoken to her, she’d tried to convince me she was in danger, and someone was following her, but she couldn’t give me any details, so I assumed it was the drugs talking … until.”
I wasn’t sure I could hear anymore. The grief in his expression was ripping my soul in two. “Holden, you don’t need to say anything else. I have enough information to put the pieces together.”
His demeanor softened. “I need to tell you. It’s important that you feel safe and can trust me.”
“Okay.” The heat from his skin soothed my anxiety as I waited for him to continue.
“One afternoon Hannah called me. She was crying so hard I couldn’t understand what she was trying to tell me. Again, she mentioned that she was in danger and asked if I could meet her. Of course I agreed. She was my sister, and I would do anything for her.
“I was supposed to meet her under the Maple Street Bridge, but I couldn’t find her. I’d almost given up, thinking the drugs were messing with her head, when I spotted someone laying on their back. I hurried over to see if the person needed help ... She did.” Holden rubbed his face with his hand, his eyes glistening with moisture. “She’d been beaten, and I was pretty sure raped as well. Her clothes were filthy and torn, her shirt was open, and the buttons had landed on the ground next to her. I covered her with my coat while I removed my phone from my back pocket and called 911. It was then that I noticed the needle sticking out of her arm.” Pain slashed across his expression, and a muscle clenched in his jaw as he visibly struggled to hold it together. Holden stood quickly and paced the room with his back to me. “She died in my arms,” Holden whispered, his shoulders shaking.
“Holden.” I hurried to him. When I stood in front of him, I dropped one of my crutches and slipped my arm around his waist, hugging him hard. “I’m so sorry. And I hate when someone says that shit to me, but it’s true.”
Holden wrapped me in his warm embrace as he sniffled. He rested his chin on the top of my head. “I thought I’d worked through it, but I think I just shoved all the pain down. After that I was numb. Over the last few years, I pretended. Pretended that I was happy, pretended that my heart hadn’t shattered, pretended to give a fuck about my life.” He lifted his chin, and I gazed up at him.
“I know all about pretending.” I bit my lower lip, and Holden’s gaze briefly landed on my mouth.
“The day I found you in the recycling bin … it was the first time I’ve felt something real in a long time.”
I leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. He was safe and comforting.
In slow motion, my brain pieced everything together. Hannah and I had similar hair and eyes. We were both homeless. Holden tried to save her and failed. Intense pressure settled on my chest as the truth fell into place. Son of a fucking bitch.
The similarities doused me like a large bucket of ice-cold water, intertwining with my past and ripping through me at Mach speed. I clenched my jaw and pain shot through me. This couldn’t be happening. “I remind you of Hannah, and I’m your key to redemption, aren’t I?” I jerked my arms away from him, nearly knocking myself off balance. “All I am to you is salvation. You don’t give a crap about me as a person. You’re using me to feel better about yourself. I’m just a pawn in your rich life. You’ll use and discard me as soon as you’re done.” He watched me as I processed the stages of my emotions. The anger, the desperate need to react, and the way I was barely keeping my shit together. I was more than a charity case. I was his second chance at life, but he hadn’t bothered to clue me in. This wasn’t what I’d signed up for, and I could make it without him.
“River, please.” Holden bent down and handed me the crutch from the floor. “I swear it’s not like that.”
“Really?” I steadied myself, then hobbled away from him. “Did you pay for your sister’s college too?”
He met my question with deafening silence, and I headed to the stairs. “I’m out of here. I’ll pack and be on my way. I’m not Hannah. I’m River Collins, in case you forgot that we’re two different people.”
“River, stop.”
His stern tone halted my next step. My breathing became shallow as his footfalls grew closer. He stood in front of me, a determined expression on his face. “You’re quick to run, and I understand that, but you need to hear me out.”
I jutted my chin up. I didn’t have to do shit. “Move.”
“No.” He held firm, refusing to let me through.
My nostrils flared. “So now you’re resorting to holding me hostage?”
