The Holders - By Julianna Scott Page 0,33

there were others like me. It was like a dream come true. And now to have the chance to save other kids who are alone and scared like I was… it’s incredible.”

“Still, I’m sorry for what happened to you.” I looked away, feeling the anger bubble up in me again. “I never would have let them…” I trailed off, not knowing if I was talking more to him or myself. What I did know was if I had anything to say about it, no one would ever hurt Alex like that again.

“I know.” There was so much tenderness in his voice that I had to look up, only to be met by the most wonderfully soft expression in his eyes. “The day we came to get Ryland – the way you fought for him – it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. When I told you that I wish I’d had someone like you watching out for me, I meant it.” I felt myself start to blush and looked away. “And as far as what my parents did,” he continued with a shrug, “oddly enough, I’m grateful. No, really,” he insisted with a smile, seeing my face. “It was terrible yes, but if it hadn’t happened the way it did, I would never have found my way here. I would never have learned who I really am. It was a long road, but it led me here, and for that I can be nothing but grateful.”

I looked at him in awe. He truly was the most amazing person I’d ever met. To have gone through something so horrible at so young an age. I knew all too well how scared and lost he must have been – I’d seen it in Ryland’s eyes countless times before. But Ryland had me; for Alex there’d been no one. Before I even realized what I was doing, I leaned forward, wrapped my arms around his neck, and hugged him.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly, my cheek resting against the warmth of his neck.

He stiffened, and for an embarrassing moment I thought he was going to push me away. However, after what felt like two years – though couldn’t have been more than two seconds – I felt his arms slide around my waist and his head sink into my shoulder. I breathed in the scent coming off his hair, which was sweet and musky with the tiniest bit of cologne. The headiness of it was invigorating, making my skin tingle and my pulse begin to pound.

I pulled back – though probably not as far as I should have – and looked up at him. “I’m sorry for earlier,” I said, feeling like a total ass for whining about Jocelyn to someone who’d had it so much worse than I ever had.

Immediately his eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t,” he said, shaking his head. Then, without seeming conscious of the action, his hand came up and slowly brushed the stray hairs away from my face, softly grazing my cheek. My heart lurched and sputtered, and I prayed he couldn’t feel my hands shake against his shoulders. Holding my eyes with a look that made my stomach tight, he continued, “Don’t ever apologize for saying how you feel.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but suddenly out of nowhere, he dropped his arms like they were lead weights and stood. “I need to get back,” he said quickly, shoving his hands in his pockets and not meeting my eyes.

“Oh, OK,” I said, trying not to seem let down.

“Can you find your way back?” he asked, walking past me.

He didn’t want to walk with me?

“Sure, no problem,” I said, which was of course a lie, but if he wasn’t going to offer to take me back, I certainly wasn’t about to ask.

He paused at the edge of the tree’s canopy and looked back at me – or more accurately, looked at the ground right in front of me.

“Are you free later tonight? We really do need to talk about Ryland. Can you meet me at the rotunda, say around six?”

“Sure, six is fine.”

With that, he walked back the way we’d come, only to break into a jog a few yards away from the tree.

9

Two hours, a ripped shirt, and a skinned knee later, I finally stumbled back into civilization, exhausted and frustrated. Alex’s pace had ensured that I was unable to follow him, and I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.

I had seen enough of the Irish woods

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