Page 27 of Healed Hearts (Mended Hearts #2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Julian

I get undressed quickly, careful to keep my body from touching Holden as I step into the shower behind him. I have no idea what the fuck happened. Okay, so I do, but not really. Motel Guy clearly abused Hold when he was younger. I was trying to get the story from Roman when Beck started yelling for me. My darlin’ needed me, and I decided the history could wait. The present needed my focus.

Holden turns, plastering himself to my body under the spray of water. I tilt my hips away from him. My dick is behaving at the moment, probably in as much shock as I am, but no way am I gonna freak Holden out with a wayward hard-on.

I doubt that’s going to be a concern, since he’s shaking like a leaf in my arms, but just in case. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

He nods, dropping his head back just enough to get it wet under the spray of water. Reaching past him, I pump some shampoo into my hand and work it into a lather before sinking my hands into his hair. I wash his hair, scrubbing gently at his scalp. He’s whimpering quietly, and I’m not sure if they’re good sounds or bad sounds, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand here washing his hair, trying to make him feel better, but actually be triggering him instead. “Look at me,” I murmur.

He tilts his head back. His face is relaxed, his eyes calm. I feel the tension ease from my body. “Thank you,” I whisper, leaning down to kiss his forehead. Once his hair is rinsed and conditioned, I lather up a loofah and hold it out for him.

He looks up at me, his brows pulled together, a little wrinkle between them like he’s confused. “You aren’t going to do it?” he asks, bottom lip coming out in a pout. The worst part is, it’s not a put upon pout. It’s genuine. He’s sad about it.

“Do you want me to?”

He nods, bottom lip quivering. Oh fuck. I can’t have that. “Okay. I will. You’re alright,” I whisper, reaching a hand up to cup his face. Shit. He’s breaking my heart.

I step back just enough that I can clean him. My movements are quick and efficient, my touch light and clinical. I guide him back under the water, helping him rinse off. He blinks up at me, staring at me with an expression I can’t decipher. “You ready to get out?”

He nods, but doesn’t speak. I hope he’s not disappearing into his head. I’m truthfully not sure what to do. I know him, and I feel like we’re close, but Roman has known him for years. He knows the history in a way I don’t. Which is why I wanted to bring him back here. I can’t believe he thought I was going to leave him, though.

I shut the water off, and we step out of the shower. Once we’re both dry, I put my clothes back on, then tie a towel around his waist before picking him up and carrying him back to his room. My Velcro baby—constantly wanting to be attached to me. Despite the craziness of the evening, a smile forms on my lips as Holden tucks his face into my neck, his entire body relaxing. Not sure there’s anything better than that.

“Hey, Julian?”

“Yes?”

“Beck beat the shit out of that guy, didn’t he?”

“Uh, yeah. He really fucking did, Hold.” I’m only slightly jealous that I wasn’t the one who got to do it. I was on my way, had my hands on him, and was even enjoying the fear in his eyes as I towered over him, but then Beck yelled for me. And I saw the expression on Holden’s face and realized I had more important things to worry about. Namely, the love of my life, who was pale as a fucking ghost and shaking violently.

“Huh. Why do you think he did that?” he asks, but I don’t have time to answer because there’s a knock at the door.

After carrying Holden into the closet so he can get dressed, I open the door to find a haggard-looking Roman standing on the other side, eyes red-rimmed. “Can I come in?” he asks.

I glance over at Holden to see he’s dressed. In my t-shirt and nothing else. “Can Roman come in?” He nods, so I step back and let Roman in.

He gives me a little nod, and then he’s crossing the room, pulling Holden into his arms. “Jesus, Hold. What were you thinking?” he whispers, arms squeezing Holden tightly, obviously trying to regulate his breathing.

“I thought that asshole needed a piece of my mind. But I guess I couldn’t handle it.” He lets out a wet-sounding laugh that’s drenched in sadness and not a single bit of humor. I lean against the wall, watching them embrace.

I could definitely see how if you weren’t comfortable and secure in your relationship, their friendship could make you jealous. But that? The way they’re holding each other? That’s a brotherhood. I don’t think they could survive without one another. And honestly, it’s so goddamn beautiful. Even with my closest friends, I never felt that level of safety—of comfort. It’s no wonder they left, and I isolated myself. I’ve never seen anything like the connection these two have.

And Beck? He was just as confused about who Motel Guy was as I was. But he didn’t need the whole story to know that Holden needed protection. I’m not one for violence. I never have been—too aware that my size can make any threat of violence seem worse than it actually is—but watching Beck take that guy down with one hit was infinitely satisfying.

Roman pulls back from Holden, cups his face, and brushes his tears away. “I’m okay, Ro,” Holden whispers, but it’s not convincing to me at all. Clearly, Roman doesn’t buy it either because he shakes his head.

“Fuck, Hold. I haven’t seen you like that since… I can’t even remember.”

Holden tries for a nonchalant shrug. “I thought I was strong enough.” His voice cracks, new tears streaming down his cheeks.

Roman tucks him back against his chest. “Your strength is not measured by your ability to stand up to people who abused you, Hold. Look at how far you’ve come—how caring and kind and empathetic you are. That’s what makes you strong.”

His words have tears welling up in my eyes. He’s right, though. Holden is all those things and more. I clear my throat, and they both turn to me. “I’m going to go talk to Beck. Are you gonna be okay here with Roman, darlin’?”

Holden hesitates, fear flashing in his eyes, but then he nods. “You promise you’ll come back?”

“I promise.” I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Although, I’m planning to go home and pack some clothes for both Wren and me. I’m picking her up in the morning, and we’ll come back here. I don’t want to leave Holden alone, but I also don’t want to take him away from his family. He needs them right now.

“Okay. I’ll be alright with Ro,” he whispers. I truthfully have no doubt that he will be, but it’s not about if he’ll be physically safe with Roman. It’s about if he’s okay with me stepping out and not having me in his line of sight. So far, he hasn’t been. Does it make me seem shitty if I say that I kind of love it? That he wants me above everyone else? That he doesn’t want to let me out of his sight? I hope not.

I watch him for a second before nodding and stepping into the hall. I just about run right into Beck, who’s pacing back and forth. His hand is wrapped up in gauze and when he sees me, he stops. “Is he okay?” he asks, blue eyes pleading and terrified.

“I think he will be. Roman’s got him for now.”

He starts pacing again. “I can’t believe that fucker. The goddamn nerve, the audacity. Just saying that shit in the street? No fucking shame at all. Fucking sickening.”

“Beck,” I say, trying to get his attention.

“I can’t believe this shit. I knew it was bad, right? But I don’t think I realized how bad until today.” Well, that makes two of us. The nasty shit that asshole was slinging? It’s no wonder Holden has so many hang-ups about sex. The true miracle is that he’s okay with it at all.

“Beck,” I try again.

He pauses. “What?”

“Let’s go sit down. Let me look at your hand.”

He waves his hand around in the air. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Okay, well, I’m not fine. I need a second to decompress while Roman is taking care of Holden. So come sit down with me and let me do something useful, like look at your hand.”

“Fuck,” he says softly. “Okay, yeah.”

I think he probably needs a minute too. Even if he won’t admit it. Especially since it seems like Roman was pretty mad at him. And I think beating the shit out of someone when your entire career is based on helping others is likely a little disorienting.

I follow him to the living room and sit down beside him on the couch. He holds his hand out to me, and I unwrap the gauze. His knuckles are definitely busted—there’s some dried blood and some bruising, but it doesn’t look broken. Not that I would really know. Hell, he’s a physician assistant and Holden is a nurse. I’m the least qualified person in this house to even be looking at it. But I needed a moment, and so did Beck. “Does it feel broken?”

“Nah, it’s fine. I should probably ice it, though.” He’s quiet for a second while I look at his hand, and when I release it, he grabs my arm, his big blue eyes boring into mine. “I’d do it again,” he says softly, almost begging me to understand. To understand why he did it.

I nod. “Yeah, I’m a little jealous you got a swing in, and I didn’t.”

Beck laughs, relaxing a little. “Holden needed you more than you needed to hit him. Don’t worry, I got a couple of good ones in for both of us.”

“Yeah, I see that, Rocky. You and Roman okay?”

He looks at me in confusion before understanding lights up his face. “Yeah, we’re alright. He was just stressed about Hold, and I made it worse since then he had to also be stressed about me. We’ve survived way worse than me beating the shit out of someone,” he says with a shrug, then chuckles, but then he sobers. “I hit Roman’s dad too, when I was eighteen. This is becoming a pattern.”

“I don’t know you all that well, but I don’t imagine it’s a pattern. Protective instinct, maybe.” If I knew him better, I’d probably tease him about thinking he’s invincible over who his dad is, but I figure as it stands, I better not.

He sighs. “Yeah, maybe. I shouldn’t have lost my cool, though. I don’t think I made things better.”

“Maybe not. But no one can fault you for standing up for him. Do you all care if Wren and I stay here for a couple of days?”

He shakes his head. “No, of course not. You guys are always welcome here.”

My insides are itching to get back to Holden. I don’t like being away from him. I’m about to tell Beck I’m gonna go back when I hear Holden’s voice. “Beck, let me look at your hand.”

I turn, watching as he walks into the living room, his face blank, eyes clear. The only evidence that he’s struggling with what just happened is the death grip he has on Roman’s hand and the splotchy red covering his face from his crying.

“I’m alright, Hold,” Beck quietly assures him.

Holden glares at him. “Don’t argue with me. Let me look at your hand.” The mask he’s donning slips and pain flashes across his features. He lowers his voice, a bit of pleading in his tone. “Please, Beck? I need to do something that makes me feel like me .”

I turn to Beck, about to plead Holden’s case to him because my God, how can anyone say no to him when he looks so fucking defeated? But I don’t have to because Beck is looking at him with soft understanding. “Alright, Hold. Let’s go to the kitchen.”

Beck and I stand, following Holden and Roman into the kitchen. Beck sits down on a stool at the island, and Holden pulls a first-aid kit from under the sink. I lean against the counter, close to Hold, but not so close he can’t do what he needs to do.

When Holden stands, he looks locked-in—full professional mode. After washing his hands, he comes around the counter, sitting on the stool next to Beck’s. “Okay, let me see,” he murmurs.

Beck dutifully puts his hand on the counter.

We all watch on in silence as Holden spends the next twenty minutes carefully cleaning and checking over Beck’s hand. I see Beck flinch a couple of times, but mostly, he’s still as Holden does his thing. The longer he works, the more his shoulders relax, tension leaching from his body. For the moment, he’s in his element, doing what he knows, what he feels he’s good at. He applies an antibiotic ointment and wraps it. Slowly. Methodically. When he’s done, he sits back. “Ice it for twenty minutes. It doesn’t appear to be fractured, but I can’t say for sure without imaging. Ibuprofen for pain and swelling. If it gets worse, or there are signs of infection, go to the hospital.”

The entire time he was going through the spiel, Beck was smiling at him. If I’m not mistaken, Beck has more medical training than Holden, but I do love that he’s humoring him and letting him have this. I think all three of us can see how much doing this helped him relax.

“Thanks, Hold,” Beck says, pulling him into a hug. He holds him for a long while, then clears his throat. “Do you want me to call my dad? I wasn’t joking about there being no statute of limitations.”

Holden lets out a little sound, something between a laugh and a sob. “No. I really don’t want to. Does that make me selfish?”

Beck squeezes him a little tighter. “Not at all, Hold. The offer is there, though. If you ever change your mind.”

Holden pulls back after a moment and turns to me. “I’m tired. Are you going home?”

Oh. I wasn’t planning on it. Does he want me to? “Um, do you want me to?” He hesitates to answer, and my stomach sinks. I’m not sure that I’ll be able to sleep without him tonight after everything that happened. But if he doesn’t want me here, I’ll go.

He’s quiet. Too quiet.

So quiet, in fact, that I push myself away from the counter and clasp my hands in front of me. “Well, I’ll just get out of yo—”

Roman cuts me off. “Scared with him, Holden.”

Holden darts his eyes to Roman, and I watch as they have a silent stare-off. Roman raises an eyebrow and Holden scowls. It’s strange to watch their interaction. It’s a whole conversation, completely without words. Finally, Holden’s shoulders drop, his face relaxing. He turns back to me, giving me an imploring look. “No, I don’t want you to.”

Relief floods me. “Good, darlin’. That’s perfect because I didn’t want to.”

Holden nods, but he doesn’t make any move to leave the kitchen. All the equilibrium he gained while he worked on Beck’s hand seems to have fled him, leaving him exhausted and sad.

Beck sighs. “Are you ready for bed, beautiful?”

“Yeah,” Roman responds, then he says Holden’s name and turns to look at him. “I’ll come if you need me, okay?”

“Okay, Ro. I know. Thank you. I love you guys.”

“We love you too,” Roman says, pulling Holden into a hug, and whispering something in his ear that has Holden nodding before pressing a kiss to his temple.

When the two of them leave the kitchen, and it’s just Holden and me, I step toward him. “Are you okay, darlin’?”

“No,” he whispers. I already knew that, of course. I’m not sure why I even asked.

“Would you like to go lie down? I’ll carry you.”

That gets a small smile out of him. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s better than anything else I’ve gotten tonight. “Okay,” he says, so I waste no time picking him up and carrying him off to his bedroom.

Once I have him in bed, tucked under his blankets, I strip my jeans off, leaving my boxers and t-shirt on. When I climb in, I’m half expecting him to roll over and climb on top of me like he usually does. He doesn’t. He pulls me toward him, grumbling under his breath.

“I’m not sure what you want, Hold,” I whisper.

He huffs. “I want you to lie on me like I do you.”

I raise an eyebrow. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, darlin’.”

“Why? Because I’m damaged goods? You don’t wanna touch me?” he snaps, anger soaking his voice.

Oof. Hello defense mechanism. “No. Because I outweigh you by at least eighty pounds, but probably a hundred. Aren’t you worried I’m going to crush you?”

He stares at me, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or if I’m lying to him to spare his feelings. Finally, he sighs. “No, I’m not worried. I want you to be like a weighted blanket.”

I bite my lip and consider the options. “Okay, how about we do this?” I scoot toward him, hitching a leg over his, pinning him to the bed, and dropping half my body over his upper body. He lets out a little sound, like all the air is being pushed from his lungs. I can’t do that to him. “It’s too much, Hold.”

“No, it’s not,” he wheezes.

I grin. “You are so stubborn. I’m not gonna be responsible for your suffocation.”

He lets out an irritated groan, but it’s more of a grunt because, you know, he can’t fucking breathe . I roll to my back and he sucks in a quick breath. “Okay, I’m good now,” he says. “You can come back.”

A laugh breaks free. I can’t help it. “No can do. But you can come lie on me, and I’ll squeeze you really tight, yeah?”

“Ugh. Fine,” he grumbles, but he does roll onto me. I wrap my arms around him, squeezing him tightly to me.

“Is this better?”

“Yeah, it’s alright, I guess.” His put-out tone is adorable, but I’m not about to tell him that. I’m not stupid.

He grumbles and complains for a few more minutes, but it doesn’t last long because he falls asleep quickly. I close my eyes and try to relax. It’s good, Julian. He’s in your arms, safe. We survived the evening. It’s all going to be okay.

I wake with a start, my heart pounding, Holden no longer on top of me. I glance around in the dark with the vague feeling that I was woken up by a scream. What the fuck? “Holden?” I croak.

A sob catches my attention, and I sit up, leaning over the bed to find Holden sitting on the floor beside it, his back against it and his knees pulled up to his chest.

“Holden,” I repeat, climbing off the bed and squatting down in front of him. “Come here, darlin’,” I say, reaching out to grab him. The second I touch him, he recoils.

“Don’t fucking touch me! I don’t want your filthy hands on me!”

I startle, jerking my hand away from him so quickly that I lose my balance and fall back on my ass.

“Don’t you get it?” he snarls, bringing his eyes to mine. I can tell instantly he’s not seeing me. He’s stuck in his mind—if he’s awake at all. “I don’t want it. I don’t fucking want it. Why do you keep doing this to me?”

His face crumples. “I want my mom. I want my mom. Please stop. You’re hurting me. Please, I’ll do anything. Please stop. It hurts. ”

His voice is nothing more than a pathetic whimper and my heart shatters in my chest; completely disintegrates. I’m nothing but broken, bleeding pieces as I stare into the unfocused eyes of the man I love. My nose burns as tears fill my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I can even try to keep them in. “Holden,” I whisper. “You’re okay. Come back to me, please. Come back to me, darlin’. I’m here. It’s okay.”

The bedroom door bursts open, and a frantic Roman rounds the bed. He drops to his knees beside us, careful not to touch Holden. “Nightmare?” he asks, and it takes a second for me to realize he’s talking to me.

“I… I think so,” I force out. Sniffling, I bring a hand up to scrub the tears off my face.

“Beck!” Roman yells. And then Beck is rushing in the door. “The lights.”

Light floods the room, and Holden’s wrecked face comes into focus. “Hold,” Roman says. “You’re safe. It’s not real.” He repeats those two phrases until Holden’s eyes slowly come to life. He darts them around the room.

“It’s not real. I’m safe,” he murmurs, his voice raspy and cracking.

“Yes, Holden,” Roman breathes in relief. “You’re safe. It’s not real.”

“It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real,” he chants over and over, rocking slightly back and forth. It might not be real right now, but it used to be, and that thought, more than anything else, has me unable to breathe. I didn’t know it was possible to hurt this badly for someone else. Which is really saying something coming from me.