Page 52 of Infatuated as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #2)

Holly

The first thing I felt when I woke up was an intense pounding in my head. Like something heavy and sharp was smacking against me over and over. I tried to turn, but all that seemed to do was make the pain worse.

“God,” I muttered, my fingers massaging at my scalp as I slowly sat up.

My eyes opened to reveal my bedroom and it gradually dawned on me that it was Christmas morning.

The heat was on full blast and usually I would have loved that, but my body felt far too hot with all the blankets on me. Why were there so many?

I took in a deep breath, rubbing my face with my hands, but that just forced me to hiss sharply.

The right side of my face absolutely stung and I quickly snatched my hands away, kicking off the heap of blankets that covered my body.

That was when I realized that I was still in my dress from last night.

I sat there, head and face throbbing as I tried to figure out why my mind felt so strange and blurry.

I didn’t remember falling asleep in my bed.

I didn’t remember falling asleep at all.

I massaged at my forehead, attempting to put the pieces together.

Yesterday morning had started off mostly normal, but then there had been that fight with Sawyer and I instantly frowned at the memory.

My fingers moved to my cheek, gently brushing against the tender skin there, and then I suddenly remembered where the pain had come from.

I had hit the bar top pretty hard after I thought drinking my pain away would be a good decision.

God, how embarrassing. There was probably a bruise the size of my fist on my face.

At least Sawyer eventually showed up and brought me home.

I wondered if he got any sleep last night.

I swung my feet off the bed, just about to get up to find him so we could work out what the hell was going on between us when I saw Mom standing in the doorway.

Arms wrapped around herself, she was in a soft pink robe, her dark hair falling against her shoulders.

She usually never looked so casual, even first thing in the morning. Even on Christmas.

“Hi,” I said softly.

“Hey, sweetie. Merry Christmas,” she said, moving into my room.

“Merry Christmas.”

“How are you feeling?” She took a seat next to me on the bed, one hand on my knee.

“My head hurts a lot.”

Mom hummed, smoothing a gentle hand across my hair. “I’ll get you something for that, and if you feel up for it, we can have some breakfast. Are you hungry? You should eat. We can make waffles like we always do.”

“Um, yeah. Okay. Is Daddy awake?”

“He is.”

“And Sawyer?”

Mom sighed. “You don’t remember what happened last night?”

My cheeks felt all flushed suddenly. “I remember. I had too much to drink. You know I don’t normally do stuff like that. I get it if you’re mad at me.”

“Darling, I’m not mad.” She kept stroking at my hair. “Of course not. I know you didn’t want to do it.”

“I was just really upset,” I said, fingers clinging to the edge of my bed. “I miss him so much, Mom. I mean, we’re living together and I still miss him. I feel like I don’t even know what’s going on in his life anymore.”

“This isn’t your fault,” Mom said, voice suddenly uncharacteristically sharp. “You have nothing to do with this.”

Turning to face her, I frowned at her words.

“He’s always looking after me. Working long hours, long shifts.

He’s focusing on his art too, and I’m so happy that he finally gets to do something that he loves.

How can I be sad about it? How can I miss him when he’s finally doing something for himself?

He’s never had the chance to do anything like this. I’m being so selfish.”

“Holly, I know you might be feeling guilty and sad and confused, but…” She stared right at me, her body rigid, not looking at all relaxed like she usually did. “Look, we need to talk about Sawyer. About what he did.”

I gave my head a slow shake. “What do you mean?”

“You might not be too comfortable talking to your father about this,” Mom said, her fingers gentle as they brushed at my hair, “so you and me are going to have to have this conversation before we get him in here.”

“… I don’t understand.”

“I need to know what’s been going on with you and Sawyer.”

“I just told you.”

“You know I’ve never judged him for the things he can’t control. You know I don’t care about where he’s from and what he has or doesn’t have. I’ve always supported the two of you, but… I need you to be honest with me. You can trust me. You can tell me anything.”

My eyes scanned my room like that would give me answers before they finally landed back on her. “I’m so confused right now.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me things that might make you scared,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest.

“I don’t feel like that.”

“I want you to always trust me.”

“Mom, I do. What’s going on?”

“Does he hurt you?” she asked quietly. So quietly I barely heard it. “If he does, you can tell me. It’s okay. We’ll help you. We’ll make sure you’re safe. You can take time off school and come back and live with us for as long as you want.”

I blinked at her. “What are you talking about?”

She shuffled in closer. “You don’t have to lie for him.”

“Lie about what? I don’t even understand what’s going on right now.” My hand flew to my chest, because the necklace Sawyer got me always brought me an instant rush of comfort, but I frowned when all I felt was the material of my dress. “Where’s my necklace?”

“We’ll worry about that later. Where did that bruise come from?”

“What bruise? I… Oh, I fell last night at the club. At the bar. I had too much to drink and I slipped and…” But that look on my mom’s face screamed pure worry, and then it clicked.

“Oh my God, you think Sawyer did this?” I pointed at my face with a laugh.

“Okay, no. I slipped. Really. Where’s Sawyer? ”

“You really don’t remember what happened last night?”

“I remember being at the club. Me and Sawyer were meant to have dinner, and then he didn’t show up, and I got a little… dramatic,” I mumbled. “I had a lot to drink. He showed up eventually and brought me home.”

“Well, that’s not exactly what happened…”

“Where is he?”

“Oh, you’re up.” My dad was in the doorway, eyes looking dull as he huffed out a tired sounding breath. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Where’s Sawyer?” I asked.

“Where he belongs,” he muttered.

I turned to my right. “Mom?”

She looked at the floor and then back at me, shifting uncomfortably. “Holly, Sawyer…”

“Is he hurt?” I quickly got up. “What happened?”

“You don’t remember anything from last night?” Mom asked.

“I told you what I remember. About how Sawyer found me at the club and drove me home.”

“You don’t have to lie for him anymore,” my father said, crossing over from the doorway to my bed. “You’ll stay here with us, and you won’t have to worry about school until you feel up to it. Let me deal with him.”

“What do you mean deal with him ?” I asked. “I’m just gonna go to his room since you’re both being weird.”

“He’s not there,” Mom said.

“Well, where is he? ”

“He was arrested last night,” she murmured.

I gasped, eyes narrowing at my dad, because I knew he had something to do with whatever had happened. “For what?”

“He hit you last night, Holly,” he said.

“No, he didn’t!” I snapped, heart hurting at the accusation. “He’d never do that.”

“That bruise on your face says otherwise.”

“I fell over at the club.” My hands pressed to my chest. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you had him thrown in prison. On Christmas too. What’s wrong with you?”

He took a step forward. “What’s wrong with me? Holly, the guy’s been hurting you. I knew I couldn’t trust him. I knew he’d end up just like his dad—”

“Don’t,” I said, shooting a glare his way. “They are not the same person and you know it.”

“He said the same thing.”

I buried my face in my hands. “What did you do?”

“I did what I had to.”

“I understand why you were both worried about what you saw last night, but Sawyer did not hit me. He’s never hit me. Ever. He’s never laid a finger on me.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to lie for him anymore,” he whispered. “You can tell us the truth.”

“The truth is that I overreacted last night and started drinking because I was upset, okay?” I bit out as I moved my hands away from my face. “I was being stupid. Me . Not him. I made the mistake. He helped me , alright? He got me into his truck—”

“We’re taking that thing back,” he grumbled. “You’re lucky I could find someone to drive it back here.”

“ His truck. His . It’s his ,” I said. “And he probably tried to drive me here but then… I don’t even know what happened, but you clearly had something to do with it!”

“A friend of mine found him, okay? An officer who works at the police department. People at the club said they saw some guy carrying a very drunk girl out of the building and put her in his car. They were worried, they gave the cops Sawyer’s plates, and my friend tracked the truck down.

When he saw that it was you, he called me,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders, but it took me just a second to shrug them off.

“He was worried for your safety, and he called me down to come help you.”

“And then what?” I grumbled out.

“And then I saw that bruise.” He tried to reach out towards me again, but I took a step back from him. “I saw you passed out in that truck with him . I put two and two together. Holly, you don’t have to cover for him. You don’t have to be scared. Let me and your mother help you.”

“Sawyer has never put his hands on me,” I bit out. “Not even once. He’s not like that. He’s sweet and kind and gentle, but you only ever see the bad sides to him that you think exist because you don’t try to see who he really is.”

“Then why were you knocked out drunk in that truck?” he asked. “You don’t touch alcohol; you’re also not allowed to.”

“I told you, I was upset. Me and Sawyer had a fight.”

“What kind of fight?”

“He didn’t get physical. He’s never done that.”

“What was the fight about?”

“I’ve been missing him, okay? Ever since we moved to New York, all he does is work, work, work.

I barely get to see him. He leaves so early and gets back so late and he’s doing it all for me.

You have no idea how hard he’s been working, how he’s been trying every day just so he can pay for the rent and the bills and our food.

He’s had to fight his whole life, and then he started fighting for me even though he didn’t have to,” I said, my voice cracking before I could force the sound away.

“I don’t want to lose him, but I never, ever want to stop him from doing what he loves.

I was sad and I messed up. Me, not him. You always think it’s him, but I make mistakes too. ”

My parents locked eyes, having some silent conversation I wasn’t entitled to listen to. Then Mom finally grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze as she whispered out a soft, “That bruise really wasn’t from him?”

“No. It wasn’t. Call the club up. Call the manager. I’m sure you have the number,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at my dad. “One of the bartenders saw it.”

“You just fell?” Mom asked.

“Yes. Sawyer’s not like that.”

“He seems to wanna fight just about everybody else,” my father said. “He offered to fight me last night.”

I raised an eyebrow up at him. “Well, were you asking for it?”

He moved his eyes to the floor. “I may have said some… choice words to him.”

“Like what?”

“I… I mentioned his mother.”

My eyes closed, the throbbing in my head suddenly turning into a piercing, sharp pain that seemed to radiate all over my body. “You accused him of hitting me and then you brought her up, and now he’s sitting in some cold cell all alone on Christmas. What is wrong with you?”

“Holly…”

“I’m going down there right now,” I said as I spun on my heels.

“Now?” he asked.

“Yes, now. Do you think I’m gonna let him sit there all day?

” I called out over my shoulder, storming towards my closet.

“You’re going to call up whoever you need to call and make sure every single charge against him is dropped.

You’re going to make sure none of this is on his record. Nothing. Not a thing.”

“Holly—”

I turned around. My dad had followed me into the closet, annoyance written clear as day on his face. “Do it, or I will never speak to you again.” I grabbed the first coat I saw, throwing it on as I pushed past him to find my car keys, ready to fix every last bit of damage he had caused.