Page 100 of Weston’s Treasure

“Oh, yeah. Holden was bitchin’ the whole time we were watching talking about how doggie-style sex was ruined for him.”

“I think he’s lifted the ban…” McKenna mumbled.

“Yeah, Jameson says he doesn’t have a good feeling,” Kennedy returned.

I was a little lost in the conversation, and out of all of the guys, I knew Holden the least. He lived in his Airstream. Which I had to admit was awesome. Weston had taken me on a tour of the farm and Holden had been home and showed me around his place. When we’d got back to the farmhouse, I told Weston I understood why Holden wanted to live in the Airstream—it was that cool. But he explained that while Holden liked his privacy that wasn’t why he held himself slightly apart. It was because Holden was going through something and had been for a long time and refused to talk about it even though everyone knew.

I found this to be extremely sad. Holden was a nice guy—funny, smart, good-looking—and I didn’t like thinking about him alone brooding. But I didn’t know him well enough to talk to him about whatever was bothering him.

“About what?” I asked Kennedy.

McKenna’s eyes snapped to mine before she whispered. “This is top secret. Well, not from our guys, just from Holden. He doesn’t know we know.” I nodded my understanding and McKenna continued. “He’s hung up on a woman. Has been for a long time. Charleigh was his, but she wanted more, Holden didn’t think he could give her what she needed so he stepped aside. Shortly after he let her go, she started dating one of Holden’s teammates. They got married, had a daughter, then he died in combat.”

“Oh, no. That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. But what’s worse is, Holden never stopped loving her. And when Paul—that’s her husband—died, his last words were to Holden asking him to take care of his family. Holden couldn’t do it. Couldn’t face Charleigh or her daughter. So now on top of being in love with her for years, he feels guilty for reneging on a promise he made to his dying friend.”

“Poor Holden.”

“You got that right,” Kennedy agreed. “Jameson says Holden screwed up big time letting Charleigh go. No one could believe he walked away from her. But it’s been years since Paul died. A few months ago, Charleigh was having some problems, no one knows what, but she called Holden and asked him to go down to Virginia and he went.”

“He went? Oh, man. Bet that tore him up.”

McKenna nodded and told me, “Remember a few weeks ago when Holden left again?”

“Yeah.”

“He went back to Virginia to see Charleigh again,” McKenna finished. “Nix says something happened, because since Holden’s been back, he’s off.”

“Off?”

“Different. Nix is really worried.”

“He wouldn’t hurt himself, would he?”

I couldn’t bear the thought of Holden sitting in that Airstream all alone suffering.

“No. Absolutely not. But he’s changed. He normally jokes around and he is the funniest out of the guys. It’s all an act of course because he’s really torn up inside, but he doesn’t even pretend to be happy anymore.”

“That sucks,” I said and sat back in my chair.

Ellis Hopper disconnected his call and silence fell.

I felt horrible for Holden. I knew what it was like to be all alone and I knew the loneliness that surrounded you. It was like a heavy blanket, but instead of keeping you warm, it was cold. It chilled you straight to the bone. And that aloneness didn’t lessen when people were around, it made it worse. It reminded you that while you were trapped in your life—having nothing, no one—the world around you kept going.

As the seconds ticked by I remembered I no longer felt that loneliness. Even when I’d been on rotation and was alone in my bunk at night, I wasn’t lonely. I’d missed Weston, but I wasn’t alone. He was still with me, miles had separated us, but I could still feel him. My hand went to my still-flat stomach and I remembered something else Weston had given me, something beautiful, precious.

“You okay?” McKenna asked.

“Yeah. Just thinking about Holden. It wasn’t too long ago I felt like him. Only I hadn’t lost someone I loved so I imagine I actually don’t know what he’s feeling because that kind of loneliness, that bitter cold, has to be worse than anything I’ve known.”

“You were torn up inside?” Kennedy asked.

“You could say that. I’m sure you’ve heard about the showdown with my dad.” Kennedy nodded and her face gentled. That felt nice—before I met Weston I couldn’t remember anyone showing me any sort of concern. “My dad’s…my dad did the best he could raising me. I know he loves me. I know when I was a kid he thought he was giving me this grand life. Off on adventures to faraway places. And in some ways he did. But when I got older he ignored what I wanted, what I needed. Even after I begged him to let me go to a regular high school, have friends, do normal stuff. I told him I was lonely, I felt like I was some sort of freak being raised on a boat, homeschooled. He told me high school was boring and friends were overrated and always let you down. So, yeah, I was very lonely. And I was torn up inside over my mom. Everything she said to me, her leaving, her coming back to say more awful stuff, before she just left and never came back. My dad never addressed any of that either. He simply went on with his life, hiding his pain, so I thought that was what I was supposed to do, too. Hide it, lock it away, pretend it didn’t hurt. Without knowing what I was doing, I turned into her. Not the mean parts, but the stubborn, self-centered, bitchy parts.”

When I stopped speaking I realized two things. The first being I’d shared—and I’d shared a lot—more than I’d ever done with anyone, save Weston. The second was I’d never had friends, not real ones, close ones where I felt safe enough to admit what I had to Kennedy and McKenna. Weston gave me that. Then there was something else that Weston had given me. Strength.

“You know,” Kennedy started. “I admit, I thought it was cool how you grew up. All the places you’ve been. But I never thought about the flip side of that.”