Page 97 of Rebel Romeo

“I’ll leave your things with my doorman,” Holden adds, cutting her off.”

Her tears turn hostile, gaze narrowing, her ivory face turning scarlet with anger. Her laugh cracks bitterly at the back of her throat and she turns to me. “Enjoy this show. It’ll be the last Holden James show either of you do.”

What is she talking about? I look at Holden, confused, but he doesn’t react. Not even a flinch.

Then, she turns to leave out the back door of the kitchen, but Holden stops her. “Missy, wait.”

When she turns back around to face him, there are streaks on her face where her tears have cut through her makeup. My heart is in my throat as Holden steps forward, his hand outstretched. She looks hopefully down at his palm. “My grandfather’s ring,” he growls. “I’d like it back.”

She doesn’t argue or object as she slips the hideous ring off her thumb and drops it into Holden’s open palm.

Then, she’s gone, running down the back steps and out of our lives. Forever, I hope. But even I’m not that naive.

There’s a long pause as Holden and his dad standoff, toe to toe. “I sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing,” Holden says.

“When do I not?” Senator Dorsey counters. Then, he turns to me. “Your wrap is upstairs in the guest room with the other coats.”

“Because my job here is done?” I spit back at him.

The senator tilts his head, regarding me not exactly with warmth, but also not with the hostility I’m used to seeing from him. “No. Because you said you were tired. You’re more than welcome to stay if you wish.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I press my palm to the kitchen door and storm off, heading to ascend the staircase even though I’ve never been to this house before in my life and have no idea where the guest room is.

When I make it to the top, I turn to my right and see a door halfway down the hallway. I yank on the handle and pull it open to find a laundry room.

Dammit.

I open the next door. Linen closet.

The third door is a bathroom.

And finally, in the fourth room on the right, I find my wrap draped across an armchair, just as Senator Dorsey had promised. A few suit jackets and other sweaters and purses are stacked neatly on the bed. But mine is the only one set away from the crowd.

If that isn't the perfect metaphor, I don't know what is: I don't belong here.

I'm not one of them. I will never be one of them. Even my pashmina isn’t good enough to occupy the same space as these Burberry coats and Hermes scarves.

There’s a small noise behind me and when I spin around with a gasp, I shouldn't be surprised to find Holden standing there in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze focused on me.

I shouldn't be surprised, but I am.

My breath catches in my chest as he takes measured steps towards me, folding me into his arms. When he speaks, his words are quiet against my hairline. "I'm so fucking sorry. You didn't deserve that. Not from Missy. Not from my father."

The warmth of Holden's embrace sends shivers down my spine and envelops me like a cocoon of protection. Suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, all I can do is hold onto him tightly as we stand together in this dark room under the pale moonlight streaming through an open window.

He slowly pulls away, his hands skimming down my arms until he's gently lifting my wrist to examine the marks.

I shrug away from his scrutinizing gaze, covering the marks with my palm. "It's fine. It didn't really hurt."

"For once, my dad and I agree. Missy can't stay on as a producer. And having several witnesses to her assault, I don't think she'll fuck with you again."

“No, she won’t fuck with you or your dad again. Me? She’ll destroy me time and time again. Every chance she gets. She’s probably imagining all the ways she can fuck me over right now.”

Holden’s face softens and he brushes his thumb along my bottom lip causing me to gasp. “It’s still weird to hear you curse. I kind of miss the days when you wouldn’t. You’d find such clever ways to get around using four letter words. It was adorable.”

“Yeah, well. Someone, long ago, ruined me. Shattered my sweet girl next door image and transformed me into this f-bomb touting jaded creature you see before you today.”

His knuckle leaves my lips, trailing down my throat and I swear for a moment, I forget how to breathe. “You’re hardly ruined, Katherine,” he whispers.

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