Finding Him at Home (Holliday Book 1)

by Sarah R. Silas

  She stared into his eyes, seeing his face as she rode him, her feet under his thighs. He brought his head up, taking her breasts in his hands and then throwing her underneath him as he took control.

  His thrusts were quick, precise, he moved his entire body over her. His hands pinched her nipples as he pushed into her, his mouth against her neck and then her chest.

  And then he was done. He groaned, grunted, and then pushed himself off her, breathing hard. "Thank god," he muttered, smiling at her.

  "Yeah," she said. "You wanna uh," she said, trying to get him to help her out, perhaps finish her off as well. She had been enjoying what had happened, she wanted more, she wanted to feel everything he had just felt. Her sexuality was roiling in her, and she could still feel the imprint of his hands against her breasts, her nipples still twinged from his fingers.

  He glanced at the clock. "Oh shit, I think. I gotta get the hell outta here. I have a thing I have to go to," he said. "Can I get a rain check on that?"

  She stared at him as he got out of bed, removed the condom and threw it in the trash. She laid there, naked, staring as he put on his underwear, his pants, socks, and finally a shirt.

  "You gonna just lay there?" he said, smiling. "I gotta get outta here."

  She slid outta bed, and having no clothes of her own, she put her bikini back on, unsure of what the situation was exactly. It wasn't like they weren't friends, they had been hanging out for weeks, and yet, this didn't seem right. She felt used, especially in that moment.

  They had gotten back in the car and he dropped her off at her apartment. She went inside, closed the door behind her, slid to the floor and cried.

  Tears flooded down her face, and she didn't even know why. She didn't know how she felt. She just didn't feel right.

  Days passed and she felt better about the situation, she had tried to call him, texted him, but he never returned any messages or calls. She would send him a message or call every few days, but eventually she gave up. He had waited long enough to get in her pants and then he was gone. The weeks of being friends, that perhaps hurt the most. She had gotten to know him as a person, and then he had betrayed her.

  She promised herself she would never let that happen again.

  #

  "Alright, I think we're good to go," said Clark, closing the hood and smiling. He stared at her face. "Before we go, though, one thing."

  Here it comes, she thought, he was going to figure out a way to say this entire thing was nothing, that he just wanted to remain friends, or maybe even worse: that he didn't want her to tell her father about this. She had given her sexuality, her mind, to a man for it just to be flung back in her face.

  He knew he had wanted her and he didn't think he was taking advantage of the situation. Plus, he thought, she wasn't just another person. She was the boss's daughter. He had been thinking of her since that day at the coffee shop, and he didn't want this to be just a fling. He didn't want that from his life. "I really like what we did tonight, but I'd really like to take you on a date. You're really beautiful Lilith, and I just took the opportunity, but I really want to date you."

  "What?" she said, confused.

  "I saw your medical school graduation picture, a few weeks ago, when I was in the main house for the first time. And I thought to myself, that's a beautiful woman. I hope she's cool in person. And I forgot about it, but then the coffee shop happened and then the dining room, and then the trip, and--"

  "And you wanna go on a date?" she said, still confused.

  "I mean, I really liked what we just did. And it felt right. And I wanna--"

  "Date me."

  "Yeah. I dunno, am I being too forward?" he asked. He looked at her nervously, unsure if she was trying to reject him.

  She stared at him, completely taken aback at the fact that he wanted a date. Had she found a reasonable guy? Was he trying to trick her? "I mean, yes, I would love to, but I've been burned before," she finally said. "It would be great to have dinner, or something."

  "Yeah, I dunno what it is about you Lilith Holliday, but I just find myself exceptionally attracted to you. And it's not just sexually. There's just something about you."

  She knew exactly what he was talking about, and it made her feel wanted, safe, and comfortable. The feelings, the weird feelings inside of her about him had finally been vindicated and reciprocated. "Yeah," she said. "I've been having the same feelings."

  "Good," he said nervously, unsure if she was being tight lipped because she was trying to reject him, still.

  "I'm sorry," she managed to say. "I'm just not used to a guy being upfront, forward, clear, and stuff."

  "Yeah, I can imagine. There are some real big dicks out there," he said, smiling.

  She laughed and the tension flew into the air and dissipated. Inside them both, the connection they felt for each had been said out loud, and they both felt the first feelings of love.

  They got back into the truck, whatever had been broken inside of it fixed, and sped off towards Doc Mulreedy's office.

  #

  Pistol and Marty sat in the parking lot in front of Doc Mulreedy's office. With the tailgate down, a six pack of beer between them, they had been waiting for Lilith to show up and for Saul to tell them what was going on inside.

  Pistol had decided that hanging around, especially with Marty, was sure to get him another job on the ranch. Most everyone had forgotten what had, had happened last time, and the only person who could remember was Saul. If Saul gave him his job back, all of Pistol's money troubles would be gone. He didn't like lying to Lilith about his father's money and what he had actually done with it, but he was trying his best not to just come off as the kid who stayed home and became his father: trailer trash incarnate.

  The night was warm and clear, no humidity with the height of the mountains. The moon's light and the yellow sodium streetlight gave them just enough to see each other and their beers. Marty had driven his truck, picking up Pistol who had called him after he heard the news.

  It was a small town, everyone had already heard the news that Ricky was a thief. And it followed that everyone would have heard that Ricky had been murdered, and not necessarily in cold blood. Informal suspects were already floating around, but nearly everyone in the town had some kind of debt to the Hollidays, which the Hollidays would never ask to be repaid. It was abhorrent what Ricky had done and no one was going to miss him.

  Marty treated his truck with the utmost care, even though it was mostly also used for ranch duties. While the outside and the bed were caked in mud, he made sure the engine and mechanics ran like a dream. The seats were tattered, the dash was grimy, but because of his dedication, it had never left him stranded and it had always turned over in the morning. He was proud of it. Thankfully, neither Pistol or Marty minded sitting on the tailgate, mud from hard days now caking their pants.

  "You like this?" said Marty, holding up the IPA that he had bought.

  "Meh," said Pistol. "You know me, I like domestic. If it ain't from Milwaukee or Colorado, I suppose it ain't for me."

  "Yeah, but the higher alcohol content ain't a bad thing," said Marty, smiling. "Let's not forget what we're doing here, really."

  "Yeah."

  They drank in silence until Marty brought up what was really on his mind. "You've known Lilith for a long time, right?"

  "Yeah, basically as long as you have."

  "Yeah. How come you never fell for her? Ya know me, I'm gay. I like cock, ya know? But you?" said Marty. He found that the best way to get the answers was to be as blatant and possible. And be really good at detecting lies.

  Pistol swallowed, not sure how to answer. "Yeah, I guess I had a thing for her at some point. I doubt I was the only one."

  "You two spent most of your time together in high school, if I remember correctly. And Keith just appeared after graduation. I swore for the longest time it was gonna be you, man." Marty was winding his way to getting his answer, and even if it wasn't the answer he wanted, he
thought he had tapped into a potent vein.

  "Are you asking me if I'm gay?"

  Damn, thought Marty. Pistol was smarter than he looked. "Maybe I am," said Marty, winking. "Or maybe I'm asking if you're still in love with her after all these years." He was turning the tables, thought Marty. Make him answer the questions.

  Lilith's truck's headlights popped up down the road and Marty and Pistol stepped off the tailgate and closed it. "I don't think you ever stop loving someone," whispered Pistol, draining his beer and putting the bottle in the bed.

  "Yeah, that's what I thought," said Marty. He had gotten his secondary answer, which was enough to play around with. He had always assumed that Pistol was straight and pining for her. There was no other possible explanation for why they had basically been best friends. But at the same time, it was a very different relationship that Marty and Lilith had.

  "It hurt when she didn't acknowledge me. When she left."

  They both popped open another beer. "Join the fuckin' club," said Marty. They toasted their feelings and drank deeply. "But at least she's back, ya know."

  "She won't stay, it's not her thing. She's never wanted this life. And ya gotta ask yerself, who would?" asked Pistol.

  "I dunno man. I don't mind it. May not be a lot of cock. Well for me anyway, but it's home. I've endured. I've taken the shit. Everyone takes their own level of shit, but they take the shit."

  "It ain't like that for me though. All I really got is an empty trailer that still stinks of Dad, and now a bunker in the ground that doesn't stink of dad, but that's where he is."

  Pistol started pacing around the parking lot. He and Lilith had spent so much time together growing up, but it was never him. He would have to force himself to realize that it would never be him. It would always be someone cuter, better, smarter, or just less of a fuck up. Less trailer trash and something more that he could never be.

  "Maybe you should tell her," said Marty. He threw his bottle cap across the parking lot.

  "Maybe you should eat a dick."

  "Gladly," said Marty, grinning.

  "I'm not gonna tell her."

  "Maybe...you should tell her."

  "Fuck off!"

  "As long as you're gonna watch."

  Pistol walked off to the other side of the parking lot. He didn't want to tell anyone anything. They were his feelings, after all. While he had known Marty for a long time, neither of them had really gotten along, and Pistol would be the first one to say that it was mostly because it took him a long time to come around to the fact that Marty was gay. He didn't mind it now, he was much older. Although, it was a rarity that Marty would want to stay out here.

  Lilith pulled the truck into the parking lot and got out, Clark close behind. "What the fuck is going on?" asked Lilith. "Ricky's dead?"

  "Stabbed to death, it's pretty gruesome. Saw the body and everything. Nearly threw up," said Marty. "Pistol's here by the way."

  "Yeah I can see that. What're you doing here?" asked Lilith.

  "Yah know, thought maybe I could help out. Marty drove me," said Pistol.

  "Why don't we take this inside," suggested Clark. He put his hand on Lilith's shoulder.

  Pistol tried to ignore it, but his fists clenched. He decided to lead the way inside.

  In the waiting room they found Saul and Sheriff Holt. They both stood, chatting silently. They looked up as the Lilith and her entourage walked in.

  "You brought the entire village," said Sheriff Holt, smiling.

  "What the hell happened?" asked Lilith.

  "That's a good question, and there's very few answers," said Saul. We're waiting for Doc Mulreedy to finish up the autopsy. He said it might reveal some answers."

  "And if it doesn't?" asked Pistol.

  "Let's hope that doesn't happen," said Sheriff Holt, sharply.

  "Why're you here Pistol? The last I checked I didn't really want to see your face for a while," said Saul. He checked his wristwatch. "Don't look like long enough to me."

  "Wait, what happened? Pistol wanted me to ask you if you'd hire him," said Lilith.

  "This turd drove a truck of mine off a cliff, high as a goddamn monkey," said Saul. "No one was hurt, got a bruised cow though. Fuckin' idiot."

  "Like what, weed?" said Lilith. She knew a thing or two about Pistol's father's own issues with drugs, and she had a feeling that if Pistol went near them, he'd probably fall for them hard.

  Pistol shook his head.

  "Pistol," whispered Lilith.

  "We don't have to do this right now," said Clark, as delicately as possible.

  "Pistol, what did you do?" said Lilith.

  "I'm better now," Pistol whispered.

  Doc Mulreedy stalked into the room, shaking his head. "Alright ya late night kiddos, I got good news and bad news for you."

  "Let's start with the good news so that I can stop listening to Pistol," said Sheriff Holt. "I haven't arrested Pistol in a long time Lilith, he's doing much better these days."

  "Well, the good news is that Ricky is dead." Doc Mulreedy leaned against the wall, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He offered the pack to Sheriff Holt and Saul. They both accepted it and lit up.

  "That's your fuckin' good news Doc?" said Saul. Lilith walked over to her father, grabbed the cigarette from his lips and threw it across the room. "Goddamnit girl," he whispered.

  "Well, he ain't in pain no more Saul. That's a fuckin' blessing don't you fuckin' think?" said Doc Mulreedy.

  For as long as Lilith could remember, Doc Mulreedy and her father could bicker like an old married couple. Probably had something to do with going to high school together. "Enough. What's the bad news?" she asked.

  "Well. I don't wanna get too gruesome for you guys, but it seems like someone carved yer last name into his back. Probably the same knife, no reason to think it was a different knife."

  "So it's definitely connected to whatever happened to the cows," said Sheriff Holt.

  "Speaking of which, did y'all get a good price?" asked Saul.

  "She gave McGuinness a little more than necessary," said Clark. "For good will and whatnot."

  "They're my fucking cows! What fuckin' good will do I get for getting my fuckin' cows back!" grumbled Saul.

  "Do you guys want the rest of it?" said Doc Mulreedy.

  "What's left?" asked Sheriff Holt. He started pacing the room, unsure what to do with himself.

  "The knife they killed him with, looks like a regular old chef's knife. Well, it's in his stomach, so there's very reason to think you'll get any information off that."

  "Jesus Christ," said Sheriff Holt. "Holliday carved on his back and a fuckin' signature move with the damn knife in the stomach."

  "Who could have done this?" asked Marty.

  Sheriff Holt looked at Marty, and began counting on his fingers. "Saul. Clark. Lilith. Pistol. You. I got five suspects thus far," he replied.

  "What about Doc?" asked Pistol, annoyed that he'd been named for some reason.

  "I'm a good guy," said Doc Mulreedy, lighting another cigarette.

  "Honestly though, there's really only one actual suspect in this room," said Sheriff Holt.

  "Who is that?" asked Lilith.

  "Clark."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lilith stood stock still, unsure if Sheriff Holt was actually serious, thinking that Clark could have murdered Ricky. It didn't process in her head. Sure, she thought, she hadn't known him for that long. It had only been a little while between learning he worked on the ranch to learning that he was an honorable felon. But she felt that he was a good man. And a good man, she knew, was a hard thing to come by.

  "Me?" said Clark, flabbergasted.

  "You were close to him, you outed him. And, there's the past history, you owe the Holliday's a lot," said Sheriff Holt.

  "You sure about this?" said Saul, sucking at his teeth.

  "We're about to see. Why don't you come down to the station for questioning, eh?" said Sheriff Holt.

&nb
sp; "Am I under arrest?"

  "I can promise you that I can arrange that."

  Clark looked at Lilith and nodded placidly. "I guess this is the end to the saga." He chuckled and nodded to Sheriff Holt. "Let's get this over with then."

  "I'll get a search warrant from Judge Henrik, and we'll do a quick search of your place," said Sheriff Holt. "Won't take maybe ten or fifteen minutes."

  "Is that really necessary?" said Lilith. She felt that it was important to come to Clark's aid, in any way that she could. The Hollidays might have a lot of pull, she reminded herself, but probably not in a murder investigation.

  "Yeah," said Sheriff Holt.

  "The rest of you, clear out. I want my office back," said Doc Mulreedy. "No more jibber jabbering and the like." He lit yet another cigarette and turned back into his office. "Sheriff, I want someone to take this body outta here too. This is an office of healing." He blew some out of his nose. It curled into the air and soaked into the walls.

  "Who's gonna heal you, old man?" said Saul, chuckling.

  "I'm like a cockroach. I'll be here long after y'all are gone. Literally. Get the fuck outta my office."

  They filed out of his office, unsure of what was next. Clark followed Sheriff Holt to his cruiser. Saul got back into his truck, Lilith into hers. Marty agreed to drop Pistol at home.

  Home, Lilith thought, should have been peaceful.

  #

  Lilith stared at the stock pond as she drove through the ranch, weaving her way through the property. The moon reflected large and white off the still water. She had always loved taking the long route, not only because it provided her an escape from being home, but regardless of what her father thought, she actually felt a deep connection to the land. She felt a connection to the Holliday name and to this place she could see managing, or at least living on for the rest of her days.

  She thought about grandmother Aggie. She must have had to deal with pretty crazy stuff as well, with the Wild West ending and civilization and law creeping into the farthest reaches of Montana. She hadn't had a lot of time to keep reading her grandmother's diaries, but it had just shot up to the top of her list. A little bit of escapism into another person's problems, another person's world, seemed like just what she needed.