Holden's Resurrection (Gemini Group #6) - Riley Edwards Page 0,9

I was carrying could be his and told me to go find Paul. I never lied, I never cheated, I never tried to cover up my drunken mistake, but even if I had, Holden had seen me and Paul together.

Yet, I still loved him.

How in the hell was that possible?

“Gonna do my best, beanpole.”

Faith beamed at the nickname Jameson had given her.

Then Jameson said to Holden, “Give me a minute and I’ll be on the road.”

I heard Holden slam his door. Seconds later, he was reversing down the lane.

Kennedy gave me a pitied look and my stomach revolted.

Screw pity.

Yeah, it was time for me to make a change. Another big, huge, life-changing decision. I couldn’t take these people away from my daughter. This was what she needed. Good, strong men around her. Sweet, loving women who would teach her to make bread and jam. We were staying.

Fuck Holden Stanford.

Fuck him and his cruel words. Fuck him for leaving me. Fuck him for never loving me the way I should be loved. And mostly fuck him for turning his back on me.

Fuck that. Fuck him.

No more. I was better than this sad sack of a woman. I was a good person. I was a good mom.

Holden dumped me.

He ran away without an explanation.

If he didn’t like me around, screw him, he could run again—he was good at it.

4

Holden was on his bed in his Airstream. Alone. Which was how he preferred it. These days it seemed he couldn’t go a day without someone mentioning Charleigh or Faith. He’d managed to keep physical distance between the three of them but that didn’t mean the universe wasn’t punishing him. There was something new every damn day. Faith said this, Charleigh did that, her business was going well, the Towlers weren’t backing down. He couldn’t get away from hearing about them.

There was a knock on the door and Holden wondered why he hadn’t gone to Bora Bora for Christmas. All of his friends were married and either had kids, had one on the way, or were thinking about reproducing. He was the odd man out. Nothing and no one was keeping him in Kent County for the holidays.

“Yo, Scrooge McDuck, what are you doing?” Bobby’s voice filled the small space.

Well, not all of his friends were married. Roberta “Bobby” Layne wasn’t officially attached to anyone, though she was giving Jonny Spencer a run for his money.

Holden opened his eyes and found Bobby already in his Airstream looking around.

“One day you might walk in here uninvited and get an eyeful,” he warned.

“You lock the door when you do that.” Bobby smirked. “Everyone’s already at Alec’s. Are you coming?”

After last year’s Christmas extravaganza, Macy, Alec’s wife, had declared that brunch at the Hall house would be a tradition. At the time, Holden was all for the new ritual. He had great friends who’d all found great women.

But this year, the last place Holden wanted to go was to Alec’s house. There’d be too many smiling, happy people there.

And she’d be there.

“You can’t avoid her forever,” Bobby continued.

“Sure I can,” Holden snapped. Then he sat up and sighed. “Sorry. It’s Christmas. I shouldn’t be an ass to you.”

“How very altruistic of you. Listen, I know Evie pretty much hates her, which means I’m supposed to, too.”

Holden couldn’t hide his wince. He hated how everyone had taken sides. The men had remained neutral—they were stuck between duty to a teammate’s widow and daughter and their friend. Logically Holden understood their predicament—hell, he was as confused as they were. The bastard Paul told Holden of all people to take care of his wife and child while he drew his last breath.

It was the most fucked-up thing anyone had ever done to him.

Fucked-up in ways none of the others could ever understand. Holden knew things the others didn’t.

A funny thing happens when someone dies, especially when that person dies a hero—suddenly all of their transgressions vanished. All the shitty things they’d done while they walked this earth were wiped clean and they were held in high regard. No one wanted to speak ill of the dead, but Paul had been a dick while he was alive.

Not just for what he’d done to Holden, but what he’d done to Charleigh. Paul Towler was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. And for years, Holden had bit his tongue every time he heard what a great man Paul had been. Bile churned in his gut when people talked about what a great father he