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“I repeat, it’s not in my job description.” I lean back, searching for the scissors because I’m finally done with the arduous task of sewing up his face. I snip the thread before slowly tying it into a double knot.
“Wouldn’t matter either way. I don’t dip my pen in the family ink.” He stands up and walks out of the bathroom without so much as a thank-you.
“You’re welcome, dick,” I mumble.
That’s two thank-yous he owes me now.
It’s not that I want to date Holden or for him to see me as the grown woman I am now, but the fact that he’s made it abundantly clear he would never entertain me as a romantic—or even strictly sexual—partner still stings for some mysterious and frustrating reason.
The days drag on, and out of nowhere, Thanksgiving is coming up. With my family relationships in shambles, I have no intention of going home for the holiday.
My mother hasn’t even texted me to ask what my plans are. Sadly, I think she’s probably been too in and out of a drunken stupor to even notice the date. I’ve called her a few times. The last time we spoke, she was in Oklahoma, visiting her sister, so at least I know she hasn’t been completely alone.
I haven’t talked to my father in months, and I have no desire to see him. I have a few missed calls from him. I have no desire to return them.
When my uncle Cain, my father’s brother, was first shot and killed, I stuck by my father’s side and grieved with him. After I learned the truth about what had really happened the night Holden killed Cain, I quit nursing school and moved out of the family mansion. My father had been paying for my school, but I decided I’d rather drown in student loans than take another dime of his money.
“Are you in the mood for romance or comedy?” Dolly asks, reaching for the remote.
“Your choice.” I pop a piece of popcorn into my mouth.
We call Friday nights braless Fridays. We binge guilty-pleasure movies, eat high-calorie food, and drink wine in our pajamas, no bras allowed. Sometimes, Dolly comes over to my apartment when we want a true girls-only night, but in the winter, it’s drafty and cold. It’s hard to beat the warmth and crackle of a real wood fire, even with the occasional testosterone-filled interruption.
“You remember that night … when everything happened?”
Dolly’s words cause the hair on my arms to stand up. She rarely talks about the night everything changed. It took her months to confess to me what had really transpired in the darkness, all while the trial was still going on and our friendship had gone up in flames. She patched it back together when she told me her side of the story.
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night,” I say quietly.
She lays her head back, her face devoid of makeup and her glasses perched on the end of her cute nose. She’s mindlessly scrolling through the Romance Movies tab. The fire is glowing orange on her smooth skin, the sun fully set now.
“I thought Cain really liked me. I wanted to … date him.”
I stare at her, trying to keep my expression from revealing the shock coursing through me.
After a few long seconds, I finally speak. “But I thought he?—”
She nods. “He did. He did force himself on me, but at first, we were just talking, laughing … flirting. When he showed up at the ranch that night, that’s what I thought it was about. I thought he was going to ask me out on a date or for my number. We’d seen each other at the grocery store that day. He told me how pretty I was, how much he liked my long, dark hair. He was so charming.”
My heart is thumping loudly inside my chest as I listen to her tell me a part of the story that I’ve never heard before.
My uncle Cain was incredibly charming. He was always popular among women.
Holden shot my uncle because he caught him trying to rape Dolly. He had his pants down, dick out, starting to rip her clothes off. She was screaming for help. Holden found them, stopped Cain, and shot him with his pistol. He didn’t give him a chance for a trial or conviction. He took matters into his own hands and acted as judge, jury, and executioner. Cain was also carrying a weapon, which Holden testified he’d aimed at him. Dolly confirmed seeing it happen with her own eyes. Holden had told him to lower the gun, but Cain had refused to, cocking it to prepare to fire.
My father did everything he could to get Holden behind bars for killing his brother.
Holden was charged with second-degree manslaughter because it wasn’t preplanned. The first-degree murder charges weren’t able to stick because Holden’s lawyer claimed the gun was fired in self-defense, and the jury agreed due to Dolly’s testimony.
My ears are hot as I look over at Dolly again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She shrugs, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’ve never told anyone. I was afraid Holden would get a worse sentence if I did.”
The way she’s casually still scrolling through the movie choices after dropping this on me is confusing me. My world is spinning.
“So then … how did it end up getting to the point that it did?”
She exhales, taking a slow sip of her wine before answering. “He tried to kiss me. I backed away … and then his face changed. He got annoyed and tried again. I tried to laugh it off, but my heart was pounding with fear. I told him we should at least go on a date first. I guess it just pissed him off. I don’t know.” She turns to look at me.
