Page 30 of All Our Ghosts

“No.” Both of us answer at the same time. Cole rolls his eyes, shaking his head as his hands fall on his hips.

“Well, try.”

He storms off towards the giant wooden door at the front of the house leaving the two of us alone. I narrow my eyes at Holden for a moment as he leans in again.

“You have a staring problem.” He muses softly, his voice warming my skin like the low heat of winter fire.

“I could say the same to you,” I bite back, turning on my heel and heading towards the door. The soft thud of his boots follows behind me, making me extremely aware of the distance between us.

He was like a shadow to me, dark but inviting, making me feel like I wasn’t alone. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or bad. Holden aggravates me. Even in the small moments I’d spent with him, he irked every nerve in my body. But there’s a part of me that feels this pull towards him. A familiarity in the way we share our anger and the deep-seated pain I can already sensebehind his silver eyes. I can see small parts of myself within him, mostly the ones that feel painful and ache when triggered.

Everything he did was to challenge me, make me give in and fold. I’m done folding for people. I’d been a victim in Miami. Everyone I knew turned on me when I tried to tell the truth about Jeremy. About what really happened that night. The threats started after I got home from the hospital, and even though I wanted nothing more than to stand my ground, I was alone.

So, I ran.

Holden never forces me into backing down. It’s like he knows when to ebb and flow with me and how to push my buttons without actually hurting me. I’m thankful for that.

Cole waits for us at the entryway, holding open the wooden door and letting the aroma of freshly baked bread, spices, and something else I can’t quite pinpoint waft around me. I step through the threshold taking in Marlowe’s home. It’s the epitome of warm and cozy. Soft brown leather furniture adorns the open living area, plants hang from various corners and litter tables like mini gardens. Warm lights glow from the modern chandelier above us, and candles flicker gently on the side tables.

I can’t remember the last time I’d been in a place that felt this welcoming.

There are a few men scattered around the living room. Some I recognize from the shop. Scottie and Wyatt lounge back on the giant leather sofa, arguing and chastising each other about something I can’t quite make out. Scottie catches my eyes from his seat, throwing me a soft wink. I smile, tossing one back as the man who sits across from him turns to see who Scottie’s looking at.

Dark brown eyes study me for a moment with a tilt of his head before turning back to the men, seemingly uninterested. WhichI’m completely fine with. The last thing I need is to draw any more attention to myself than I already have and I’m not ready to get the third degree from another member of the Hounds.

“Come on,” Cole says softly, leaning into me, jutting his chin towards what I assume is the kitchen judging by the way the smells get stronger as we travel down a side hallway.

As we round the corner, I spot an older woman with long strawberry blonde hair tied off in a loose braid cascading down her back. Her skin glows against the kitchen lights as she moves about, almost floating around the kitchen and tables.

“Let’s get the table set,” her voice commands gently as she stirs one of the pots on the giant stove. “Blake those don’t– No, please stop rearranging the forks and spoons.”

Cole chuckles as we stand in the door. Another woman, this time younger, steps up to the island separating Marlowe from the dining area. She can’t be much older than twenty.

“Haven’t you ever seen Titanic, Ma? The small forks go over here.” Blake points to the edges of the place settings, rearranging the small utensils as she gnaws on her bottom lip. She has long dark hair that is pulled up into a loose bun, and dark tendrils have fallen around her face, but what surprises me the most is the Hell Hounds Prospect patches stitched to the black denim vest she’s wearing.

I glance up at Cole who’s watching the scene with a smirk playing across his lips. I recognize a glint in his eye that I used to see in my father’s as he watches Blake. She means something to him and it transcends a normal friendship.

“Leave it, Blake,” Marlowe warns with a slight raise of her brow, “and Cole, if you’re going to lurk in the doorway at least make yourself useful and help her,” she muses knowingly, even though her back has been turned from us.

Cole laughs this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling softly as he steps into the kitchen, planting a kiss on the side of Marlowe’s head. “You got it, Ma.”

“Why do we need so many utensils anyway?” Blake asks, throwing her hands up in dramatics, making me smile to myself. Her eyes light up seeing Cole in the kitchen, her eyes going wide as if a light bulb has gone off in her head, “OH! Do you have any sporks? The guys would love that.”

Marlowe shakes her head, handing dishes full of food over to Cole to place on the table.

“Blake, no one uses sporks over the age of five,” he says, shaking his head.

“That’s what you think, old man.” She grins, pointing the end of a butter knife at him before he playfully smacks it away, tugging her to his chest.

He pulls back from the girl, his hands resting on her shoulders as he inspects her. “Don’t think we’re not discussing your little field trip after dinner.”

Blake winces, guilt dripping over her face like a mask before another smile threatens the corners of her lips. “Yeah, yeah,”

I linger in the doorway, turning back to see that Holden has disappeared from behind us. My heart sinks for a moment, almost expecting him to be lingering behind me, watching and waiting to irk me further. Instead, he’d left me alone. Why am I almost sad about that? Why do I even care that he isn’t there in the first place?

I take a deep breath, stepping into the kitchen.

Marlowe glances at me out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t have to hide in the shadows, sweetheart. We won’t bite you,” she coos, as if she’s lulling a scared animal from the corner of the room. “Despite what Cole may have warned you about.” She grins, continuing to busy herself with dinner.

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