Page 109 of Ink and Ashes
That statement shocks me. “You did?”
He nods. “I know those articles aren’t the full story. I’ve gotten to know you, Holland Rhodes, well enough to see past the rumours. I know you’re not who they say you are. You wouldn’t still be here if you were.”
I swallow roughly, my eyes flashing to his lips. Then on an exhale, I tell him the truth.
“A few months before I moved here, I was investigating a senator who was suspected of being tied to some shady development deals in the Ottawa area. I had all the proof I needed to expose him, but right after the story went to the editor, it died. Instead, a fabricated story about this guy’s competitor was published, claiming he was the one involved in the dealings. A story I had nothing to do with but had my name on it.
“I was confused and extremely frustrated, because I’d spent almost a year working on exposing this guy. When I questioned the editor-in-chief at the Foundation, she played it off. So I did some more digging and uncovered a pattern of stories about higher-profile clients dying before they hit the press. As it turned out, the EIC was involved in some kind of pay-for-publicity scheme. She’d been working with some of the higher-profile clients we were investigating, trading fake stories about their competitors in exchange for money. Every article she published under this scheme used illegitimate sources and false claims, but people believed it. The Foundation has always been reputable, so nobody thought to question it. Except for me.”
“Damn it,” Colson mutters, already knowing where this story is going.
“The problem was I had no physical evidence proving the EIC was involved. She was damn good at covering her tracks, and it was tough to find enough to blow the whistle. I’d thought I was being careful in my investigation, but I clearly wasn’t careful enough. It didn’t take long before the EIC figured me out, so she framed me for it all instead. She planted fake evidence that it was me fabricating the stories, then leaked it to rival news companies.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I was fired and blacklisted, and not a single person I worked with believed me. I mean, why would they? I had no real evidence, and the EIC did. She had everything I needed to take her down, and she putmyname on all of it, so of course they believed her instead. There was nothing I could do.”
“No one believed you? Not even that scumbag you called aboyfriend?”
“Especially not him.” I scoff. “All Gabriel cares about is his image, and a girlfriend labelled a fraud is not good for said image. Which is why, after the story broke, I came home to find him in our bed with his assistant. He blamed my tarnished reputation for his cheating.”
Colson grinds his teeth together. “I definitely should’ve hit him.”
“Believe me—it’s better that you didn’t.” I send him a watery smile. “I don’t even know why he came after me considering, but it doesn’t really matter now. Finding him cheating was my breaking point. I packed up all my things and drove across the country. I’d heard about the fires on the news, and I guess part of me was running away. But mostly, I just wasn’t ready to give up. I felt defeated, but I was still determined to remind people who I am. At the time, I thought coming here and figuring out what was causing the fires would show them I’m not who they’d been made to believe I am.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m not so worried about proving myself to the industry.”
His brows knit as he reads between the lines. “But you still want to prove yourself. To whom?”
My tongue darts out over my lips as I say, “My parents.” I pause briefly, a tear slipping past my waterline. “You know who my dad is. My whole life, I’ve worked my ass off to make him love me. I fought tooth and nail for everything I have, but I can’t lie and say my parents being who they are didn’t play a big role in me getting a job at the Foundation. I thought once I did, he’d start to view me as a human, as hisdaughter. But it never worked. He loves my success within the industry, and he loves showing off my talent. But he doesn’t love me. He never has, and I’m not sure he ever will.” I swallow roughly. “But I can’t stop myself from doing what it takes to try to make him.”
He brushes his thumb over my hand, unable to tear his eyes from me. “You don’t need to prove yourself to them. Anyone whodoesn’t see your worth isn’t someone you should want in your life anyway.”
“But they’re myparents.”
“Exactly,” he says, sitting up and glancing back down at me. “Parental love is supposed to be unconditional. Your value to them shouldn’t be based on your success, your status, any of that. It should justbe. And if they chose to take the side of that editor with falsified proof over their own daughter, that says more about them than it does you. That never should’ve happened to you, Holland. You deserve better than two parents who watched you get fired and didn’t do anything to stop it, especially when we both know they had the power to.”
“I know,” I mutter. “But I can’t help it. My parents and I have never been close, but I never expected them to turn their backs on me. Not like this. Because while they weren’t loving, they pushed me to become the best I could be, and it’s because of them that I was able to expose that editor, even if it didn’t do me any good.”
Colson pulls me close, locking his gaze with mine. “Do not credit your successes to anyone other than yourself.Youare the one who fought for what you had, who worked endless hours to get the best stories. Maybe they helped get you started, but the only person who deserves credit for what you built is you.”
He wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I bury my face in his chest. My fingers tangle in his shirt, holding on for dear life. For a moment, we’re frozen in time like that—him holding me, gluing every broken piece of me back together one-by-one.
For a moment, I let myself learn what it’s like to be loved forreal.
“I missed you,” I admit, keeping my face buried.
He pulls back and locks his gaze with mine. “I missed you too, pretty girl.” He smiles softly at me, placing a hand against my cheek. “Your parents’ inability to love you foryoudoesn’t define you, Red. It defines them.”
It defines them, I remind myself as I nod. Then, without another moment’s hesitation, he leans down and presses his lips to mine.
The kiss isn’t rushed—it’s gentle, slow, patient. It’s as if he’s breathing life into me, saying all the things his words alone cannot. I hold onto him as if he’s my lifeline, the one thing helping me keep my head above water.
His tongue pushes its way between my lips, prompting me to open up for him. A moan slips from my throat, and the kiss turns primal. His fingers on one hand dig into my hips as if he can’t get me close enough, while his other wraps around the back of my neck, holding me against him. Our tongues tangle as I bring my arms up around his neck, pressing my body flush against his.
“God, Holland. You drive me fucking insane,” he says, kissing his way down my neck. I let out a moan as he nibbles my collarbone, but then he pulls back, meeting my eyes. “Ever since I met you, you’ve grated every last nerve of mine down until all I can see, hear, taste, smell, andfeelisyou. You’ve invaded every one of my senses and embedded yourself in every part of me.”
He swallows roughly, his eyes flashing down before meeting mine again. “If all this town—if allIam to you is a stop along the way back to your old life… I need you to tell me now. I need you to put a stop to this now. Because if we do this, I’m not going to be able to move on after. And I’m sure as hell not going to let you walk away.”
