Holden's Resurrection (Gemini Group #6) - Riley Edwards Page 0,92

she dropped the letter and her knees buckled.

“No,” she cried. “No. No. No.”

Holden knelt, but before he could reach for Charleigh, she launched herself at him. His ass hit the floor at the same time she crawled into his lap and shoved her face in his neck.

“No,” she moaned against his throat. Her vise-like grip damn near choked him.

“Baby?”

Unbelievable fear terrorized his mind. What the hell could be so bad?

Holden reached for the paper and Charleigh batted it out of his hand.

“Nononono,” she repeated.

“Leigh-Leigh, I need to read it,” he told her and picked it up again.

Unable to do much more than hold a sobbing Charleigh in his arms, he brought the paper up enough to see Paul’s simple print.

Charleigh,

If you’re reading this, I didn’t come home and now I owe you the truth, but first I need you to understand how much I loved you. From the first time Holden brought you to that hog roast at the beach, I was in love. You were so beautiful, God, I couldn’t take my eyes off you. I watched you all night. The way you smiled at the guys but only had eyes for Holden. The way you’d go off and talk to the wives and girlfriends but you always made your way back to his side. I’d always wanted that. A woman to love me so completely that on a crowded beach with a bunch of rowdy SEALs she only saw me. With that said, I knew it was wrong to feel the way I did and I tried to forget you, but every time I turned around you and Holden were there. You were there. And my feelings for you only grew.

I tried to do the right thing, I swear, honey. I stayed away for as long as I could. But when Holden left you, I had to take my shot. I’d regret not trying for the rest of my life. So I did, I overheard you were at the bar and I took my shot. You told me you and Holden were through and I felt like I won the lottery. Nothing was gonna stop me from showing you how much I loved you. We went back to your place—

Holden had to close his eyes against the bile rising. Fucking Christ, he didn’t want to read this shit. First, because the sick fuck didn’t love her, not the way she deserved to be loved. And second, he didn’t need to know how Paul felt about the night they’d made Faith. He was doing his best to forget that night ever happened. But he braced and forced himself to continue because so far he hadn’t read anything that warranted her reaction.

—I knew you were drunk and I knew I was taking advantage of the situation but, Charleigh I need you to understand, I loved you so much and I thought once you were over Holden I could make you happy. We were in your room, things were progressing, then you called me Holden. After that, you fell asleep. I put you in my shirt and got into bed next to you. The next morning you assumed we’d slept together and I didn’t correct you. Then when you came to me and told me you were pregnant, even though the baby wasn’t mine, I wanted it—

The next morning, you assumed.

Assumed.

Even though the baby wasn’t mine.

Faith wasn’t Paul’s.

Holden’s head spun until he was dizzy. His chest caught fire and burned so hot it was in literal pain. Agonizing, helpless, bitter pain that took his breath.

Motherfucker stole his life.

Stole his child.

Faith.

Inconceivable anger engulfed him.

He’d lost eight years of his child’s life.

Holden shook as he pulled Charleigh off his chest and set her aside. Then he was on his feet. His hands raked through his hair and he yanked until his scalp screamed in pain. He’d needed to do something, anything to take away the burning in his heart.

“Holden?”

His gaze sliced to Charleigh but her devastation didn’t register. Nothing did. Not the way her arms were wrapped protectively around her middle. Not the tears that rolled down her cheeks. Not the sadness in her eyes.

Eyes.

Faith’s eyes.

The dimple.

Jesus Christ.

“I have to go,” Holden blurted and stormed out of the room.

“Please don’t.” Charleigh’s hand wrapped around his biceps but he didn’t stop.

He couldn’t be there.

He couldn’t stand to be in the same room as that fucking letter and Paul’s from-the-grave confession.

Bastard child.

Those motherfucking bitches knew. They’d known all along that Faith wasn’t Paul’s. Murderous intent