If I could've, I'd have gotten up from the table and gone to my room.
"I'm not hungry," I said. "I feel sick."
"Yes, you do look a little pale."
I had to process this. Holden's father had been killed. Maybe in an accident, maybe a shooting. As much as I hated to side with Mum, an accident seemed unlikely.
Holden's family drank a lot and had fiery tempers. They were the last people who should ever have access to firearms. It used to freak me out a little when I'd go to his place and see the guns mounted on their walls.
Every so often they’d get worse, too. Maybe a bad batch of homebrew or crack or whatever. They’d go loopy. Old resentments got stirred up. That meant more fights than usual and all kinds of shit going down.
I should get in touch with Holden. He'd need someone right now. Not one of his shitty bandmates or those hangers-on but someone who knew him. But, if I did that, would I be opening a whole can of worms?
I needed to think. My brain had gone murky with all this lazing around. I went to my room and found my runners and some old workout gear in the wardrobe. It still fit.
"What are you doing?" Mum asked. "You aren't well enough to go out for a run. Maybe you should lie down."
"I'm fine," I said. I put my headphones in and turned the music up to a dangerously high volume. Screw my eardrums, I needed to tune the world out.
After a slow jog to the park, I got into it. I'd hated sports at school but, after Holden left me, I realized that it was just too easy to give in to drinking and, if that wasn't bad enough, I had access to harder stuff than booze. I’d hurt inside so bad that the temptation was strong. Luckily for me, there was a boxing gym near where I lived. I went in one day and got started. That became my drug, my release. If I'd not had that, I might've ended up a total mess.
I ran through the bush tracks, pushing myself to the limit. I wanted the physical pain to kick any other thoughts from my head. But those thoughts were too persistent. I had to call Holden. It was the right thing to do. I wasn't rekindling anything. It was a friend reaching out to another friend.
I pumped my legs, running faster and faster. Even I wanted to stop, I couldn’t. Not until my mind cleared and my life made sense.
We could never get back together. For that to happen, I'd have to trust him. And I couldn't even start to rebuild trust. Holden never acknowledged what he'd done to me. He’d said he was sorry but it wasn't from a place of understanding what he'd done. It was a "sorry that things went bad" or a "sorry that we didn't work out". Not a "sorry for undermining every shred of self-esteem you ever had". Not a "sorry for betraying your trust".
That was something I couldn't expect from him and, without it, there was no us.
But there didn’t need to be an “us” for me to be a friend to him. Anyone would be concerned about a friend at a time like this. I’d put those feelings aside and call him when I got home.
Sweat ran down my face. I tried to wipe it away but it got in my eyes and stung the fuck out of them. Sweat mixed with tears until I had to stop because I could no longer see where I was going.
I found a rock to sit down on, shading my eyes from the sun.
If I just let him know he had someone to talk to about his dad, that’s all I could do right now.
My body ached as I jogged home. I'd pushed myself too hard. Far harder than I was used to. I'd need to take a long soak in the bath or I'd never walk again.
When I got to the main road, I tried a gentler jog, just to ease the pain.
Because my music was so loud, I didn't notice the car until it pulled up in front of me. Not the best way to keep safe but they were probably just someone who lived nearby.
When the car door opened though, Holden King got out.
Chapter 26
I GOT IN THE CAR WITH Holden but we didn't talk. We drove around town then out the road to the river. Holden parked the car at the lookout, next to a campervan with an old couple having lunch at one of the picnic tables.
I wasn't sure what to say to him. I was pretty sure "sorry your dad got shot by one of your rabid relations" was not the right thing. Holden’s hands rested on the steering wheel and he stared straight ahead at the view of the town laid out in front of us. He had the form of Holden but the essence of him was somewhere else. Just a puppet, going through the motions.
Even so, I figured it was better to wait for him to walk. I reached over and uncurled his fingers from the steering wheel and took his hand in mine, just so he knew someone was there for him.
"They told me not to come," he said.
“Your management?”
"They said if this got out, it might destroy everything. How far do I have to run, Carlie? How hard do I have to fight to put my family behind me?"
That was a question I couldn't answer.
"Is your image all that important anyway?" I said. "Fuck the lot of them. You’re not your family, Holden. Maybe you should stop running. Maybe you should make a stand. Tell the world that you aren't your family. You're not your father. You're not your mother or your uncles. They've made their own choices in life and you've made yours."
"That's easier said than done," he said but he squeezed my hand. "Let's go for a walk. It's been years since we walked here.”
We got out of the car and he led me down the steep path. I'd run down that path as a kid when the thought of falling or getting injured never entered my mind. I’d had all the confidence in the world then. Now I checked every step and clung onto his hand. The gravel under my feet slipped around and the footholds were scant.
"You realize we have to walk back up this path when we get down there," I said.
"So?"
"So, that's okay for you. I've just been on a run. I have nothing left in the tank. You might have to carry me back to the car. I didn't even bring a water bottle with me. I might suffer dehydration."
Holden laughed.
"You can drink out of the river when we get down there."
"You're kidding, right? All those kids piss in that river. I'm not drinking piss water."
"If you are thirsty enough, you'll drink it. Anyway, I don't know if kids come down here anymore. Most of them spend the summer stuck inside with their PlayStation now."
“What are you? Fifty years old?” I laughed.
I skidded a little and used Holden to break my fall. The feel of his back against my hands made me catch my breath.
It was getting close to midday and the sun beat strongly through the gaps in the trees. I'd been sweaty enough before we started this walk.
Holden paused halfway down, glancing around. I knew what he was looking for. The tree with our names.
“You’ll never find it. Trees grow a lot in ten years.”
"Yeah, here it is. ’H+C 4 eva'. Remember what you said the day I carved that."
"Yeah, I remember. ‘What the fuck are you doing with that knife on our date?’" I laughed.
"And I nearly swooned that you considered it a date."
I punched him lightly on the arm. "You did not."
"Did so. You were pretty fucking intimidating back then. Even more than you are now. There were all these girls in our year who were little clones, just wanting to fit in, and then there was you, being you, and not giving a fuck. Giving the finger to anyone who dared to say anything."
"Not just the finger. I beat Jennifer McGowan up in the toilets because she called me a freak witch."
"Whoa, harsh words."
I laughed. It seemed so stupid now. All those high school fights.
"To be honest, I thought it was a bit bad of you to injure that poor tree for no reason."
Holden stared up at the length of the tree. "Looks like it survived," he said. “Probably better than Jennifer McGowan did.”
Better than we did, I thought but I didn't say it out loud. It wasn't the time for saying things like that.
We kept on walking, the heat increasing as we headed down into the valley, away from the breeze. I'd forgot
ten how hot it got there, like a sauna. Everything seemed amplified, the earthy smells and the rustling of the trees.
"We must be nearly there," I said. I couldn't wait to see that cold water. There were no trees to provide shade where we walked, and the sun beamed right on my head, melting my brain.
"Just around the bend, if I remember right. If you listen carefully, you can hear the water."
I broke into a run. Holden took off after me.
There it was, our swimming spot. The water was still brown and murky, and fallen leaves floated on the surface, but it looked so refreshing after that walk.
I stripped off my t-shirt and tights. I'd jump in with just my bra and knickers.
"Chicken," called Holden. "You'd have stripped right off once."
He'd peeled off his t-shirt and had started to unbutton his jeans. That was a sight I couldn’t ignore.
Screw it. There was no one else around and Holden had seen it all before. I stripped off to nothing and jumped in.
The cold of the water knocked all of my senses out of me for a second, but then they came rushing back, making me totally aware of just how cold it was. I screamed.
Holden jumped in next to me. For a moment, we were 16 again. My biggest concern was how to get home without explaining why I had wet hair. And making sure my parents never found out I was with Holden King.
We used to lay on the rocks after swimming to dry off, shyly touching each other but too scared to take things further. Not here, where anyone could catch us.
I swam across the river, enjoying the sensation of the cold water flowing over my skin, then swam back, struggling as the tiredness hit my legs.
“I can’t swim like I used to.” I stretched out my arms.
"Those were good times," Holden said. “Even with all the shit, they were good.”
I laughed and splashed him. He splashed me back, so I jumped on him, trying to push him under the water. As my skin touched his, all the feelings I wanted to hide rushed back. I pulled away.
I should not be doing this. I couldn't be there, with him, frolicking naked. All this fun and happiness was not good. I couldn’t be just friends with him, no matter how much he needed me. It would always end in sex. The desire I felt for him was too strong to deny.
I climbed out of the water and threw my clothes back on.
"What's up?" Holden asked.
I hunted around for my other shoe. I'd thrown them off in my rush to get in the water. I found it under a rock. Then I struggled to get my running bra back on. It was a crop top style, and the fabric stuck to my wet skin, twisting up. I didn't want to look around to see Holden watching me. I wanted that fucking bra to go on, so I could get out of there. In the end, I pulled it off and threw it away. Stupid fucking bra. Who needed it anyway?
I put my t-shirt on and pulled on my tights. That was struggle enough.
Behind me, Holden got out of the water. I fought down every emotion bubbling up in me and kept getting dressed. I needed to disappear and never be in Holden King's life again. These feelings would never go away. The only thing for me to do was to put distance between us.
I pulled on my socks and he grabbed hold of me.
"Stop for a minute, Carlie."
I shook my head, water flying off my hair. "Holden, we can't go back."
He didn't let go of me, no matter how much I struggled. As much as I wanted to stop fighting and stay in his arms, I couldn’t let go. All the anger inside me welled up.
"Fuck it, Carlie. You told me to stop running away. You told me to make a stand. Well, what about you? You run every time I get close to you. You don't even give me a chance. You pretend to have this whole fuck off attitude but you're so scared."
"Too scared to give you a second chance, you mean. You left me with wounds that don't heal. You walked out and left me without even trying to make things better. You can't just decide to take up where you left off three years later. Life doesn't work like that."
When I stopped yelling, a flock of birds rose up from the trees, squawking into the air. My god, I must sound like them. They circled around us, before heading off elsewhere.
“You don’t even want to try though, do you? You’ll never forgive me.”
“Do you want forgiveness? You never even said you were sorry, not really.”
“Did you ever apologize to me?” he said. “I never asked you to, I never expected it.”
“Apologise for what?” I pulled back from him, the shock hitting me like a slap in the face. I’d not been perfect but I’d never thought I’d done anything I needed to apologize for.
“Think about it, Carlie.”
I tried to strike out at him and he let me go.
“Go on, Carlie. Do it. Punch me. Make it as hard as you can.”
I glared at him. “What the hell are you on about?”
“You’ve got so much anger boiling up inside you. It’s there all the time. Even when we’re having fun, all that anger and resentment is just below the surface. So, let it out. Give me what I deserve.”
I raised my fist and smashed him on the jaw. The punch landed with a sickening thud and I waited for him to stop me. Time stood still and everything went silent.
“Is that all you’ve got?” he yelled. “You can punch me fifty times and I’ll take it. You can shatter me into a million pieces and every single one of those pieces will still love you.”
I hit him with my left this time. He recoiled but didn’t move. Then I got into it, raining punches to his face, then to his stomach. As I struck out, tears came to my eyes, but I didn’t stop to wipe them away. Holden had hurt me and I’d hurt him back. I’d destroy him.
The whole time, Holden stood stock-still. Not responding and not trying to stop me.
My brain switched off and only my body worked. The sound of each strike echoed over the water. The birds screeched, as though egging me on.
I kept hitting until my body tired and I had nothing left in me, until all I could do was beat against his chest with sides of my hands. Weak, feeble strikes.
Tears streamed down my face. For all I’d hit him, it’d changed nothing. I didn’t feel better. After it all, I wasn’t gratified. I just felt dead inside.
Holden wrapped his arms around me and let me cry. He stroked my hair and I softened in his arms. I’d planned to comfort him but it had ended up with him comforting me. His lip bled and he had bruises on his face but I was the one who cried.
But I couldn't deny my love for him any longer. Fuck, the whole three years we were apart, I'd never been in a relationship. I met hundreds of men, thousands, and never had any one of them compared to Holden. I was sad and pathetic but, if I couldn't have Holden King in my life, I didn't want anyone else.
And I couldn't have Holden King until I could go to him with a heart that was 100% free from doubts and fears. There was no way I could fit the pieces together.
When it came to giving moral support to a friend in hard times, I was the worst. Instead of helping, I'd turned it into a huge mess.
I needed to get my own shit together. No matter what he’d done wrong, I’d done wrong too.
He was right. I'd never said sorry either. When he was working his hardest to establish himself and get his band off the ground, I kept making it all about me. I’d wanted constant reassurances and attention. I'd been a bitch.
The worst was one night, just after the record label became interested in the band. He'd been invited to a party at a fancy bar, a networking thing. I wore the same old black dress that I wore every time we went out. We could barely cover food and rent, and any leftover money went towards rehearsal studios and band costs. There wasn't a cent left for new clothes.
I'd loved that dress when I lived at home but I grew to hate it. I'd worn it to pieces and had even had to sew up the side seam by hand before we got to the party. I knew every other woman there would be dressed in designer clothes or something cool and edgy. All I had to wear were rags.
"Help yourself to drink
s," one of the suits said when we arrived.
I scanned that bar and it was just as I'd thought. I looked like shit compared to every other person. Not Holden, though. Holden seemed to have things handed to him. Some chick from a fancy hairdresser had offered to do his hair for free, cutting off that straggly, long, country boy hair. He wore a tight t-shirt someone else had given him, with his only pair of jeans. He fitted in. He didn't look like some waif who'd wandered in by accident.
While Holden talked to the suit, I went to the bar. I got a vodka for me and a beer for him. But, when I glanced over at Holden, he had his back to me, engrossed in what the suit was saying. I polished off my vodka and his beer too. I didn't want to go back to the bar too soon, so crept around to the bar on the other side of the room and got another order of drinks.
I went back to give Holden his beer, then got another vodka. The barman gave me a wink and put an extra shot in it.
Since I had nothing better to do, I figured scoring as many free drinks as possible was my mission for the night. By the time Holden finished talking, I could barely stand. If I hadn't had the bar to lean on, I'd have been on the floor.
"Get something to eat," Holden told me.
"I don't need food, I need more vodka," I told him. "Vodka is my friend."
"Keep your voice down," he hissed.
I wanted to yell back at him but he'd walked off.
Fine. I didn't need him nagging at me. I was fine with vodka but then the barman refused to make me another one.
A skanky bitch with her designer bag had her hands all over him. I jumped up and ran over to them. Tried to run. My feet weren't working properly. I kind of tripped and lurched at them, knocking Holden's drink all over him.
"Get your hands off him, bitch."
It got blurry from there on. I remember being helped into a cab and Holden telling me he was going back to the party. At the time, I thought he was getting rid of me to hit on that bitch.
“Fuck him," I remember thinking. I'd go back to that party and tell him exactly what I thought. Except the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the kitchen floor, vomit on my dress, and Holden still not home.
Rock Star Returns: Carlie's Story (Access All Areas, #2) Page 13