Page 85 of Whiskey Throttle
“That’s a low fucking blow, especially coming from you.”
“You basically called me a manwhore.”
He steps into my face, inches from it. Brave for being the lightest of all of us, especially considering his bad back. But he knows I’d never fight him. Especially now. I’m already one friend down, two if I count Em. I can’t afford not to have Diego on my side, or at least still my friend if he’s taking Dom’s side in all this.
“You know it’s true. You treat women like garbage. And it goes without saying that sisters and moms are off limits.”
He squares up.
Doesn’t look away.
Challenges me to deny it. I would if I could, but I can’t.
“You think I don’t know that, man? You think I didn’t wrestle with this a million times?”
I run a hand through my hair for the hundredth time since I got back to Boston.
“But Ms. Barrett? You went after your friend’s mother. You knew exactly what it would do to Dom.”
My lungs squeeze tight. Doesn’t everyone deserve to be happy?
“Don’t I matter? Don’t my feelings count for something?”
“Yeah, Holli. But you dragged her into this mess. You of all people knew how bad their relationship was and just said fuck it.”
“I didn’t just say fuck it!” I yell, stepping back, fists clenching at my sides. Diego doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t get out of my face either. He’s forcing me to acknowledge my shit physically and emotionally. “She wants this too. Wanted it. Fuck if I know now.”
I want to blurt out what I know, what she shared, but that would be a huge violation of trust. Something I’m unwilling to do. I already betrayed Dom. I can’t add another victim to that list.
Diego’s eyes bore into mine.
“Then tell me why you did it. Why did you really do it?”
I move away from him, walk toward the window, but not before catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror in the en suite. I look as shitty as I feel. My swollen, bloodshot eye is ringed with faint purple bruising. Not only does my shirt have blood on it, but there are a couple of holes.
“Hollister?”
Heart in my throat, I finally admit, “Because she made me like her equal, okay? She saw me, not for all the bad shit I’ve done but for who I am. And not the family name and crap. She just saw the real me.”
A second slips by while Diego processes. I gaze out the window, noticing the city but seeing nothing at all.
“And the real you goes after friend’s moms?”
He’s repeating himself. Causing me to wonder why the fuck I opened up, if he’s not going to hear me out.
“Forget it. I’m going to head home, catch a shower, and meet you there.”
I turn to him, but he blocks the bedroom door. Tension comes off him in waves.
“No, I want to understand this.”
“Why? It’s my fucking mistake for not telling him. I’m not saying Babs is a mistake because she’s not.”
“Okay, Holls. I get it. You care about her.”
His stance softens, his arms uncrossing as he takes a step back. I nod, looking down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze any longer. I feel like shit. About her, Dom, and everything I want is going down in flames. I knew it would be bad. Knew Dom doesn’t forgive anyone in his life, but somehow I still have a sliver of hope that he will for me.
“I do. And I know it’s fucked up, but it’s the truth.”
