Page 55 of Tangled Hearts (Mended Hearts #4)

Nic

M y fingers trace down Eli’s spine. He’s still asleep. It’s not really a surprise. Not after the last couple of days. Not after the night we had together when we got home from his dads’ house.

I’m just so thankful to have him back home. Back in my arms where he belongs.

His weight is pressing down on me—the feel of it comforting and solid. Familiar. Perfect. I let my fingers drag slowly over each vertebra, then up his nape to weave through his thick hair. He shivers in his sleep.

I can’t help but smile. I worried for a second that I had lost this. Lost him. I’m not sure what I would have done if I had.

The sound of quiet knocking pulls me from my musing.

Eli doesn’t stir and Kassie doesn’t bark, and, for a second, I’m sure I’ve imagined it, but then it happens again.

I carefully roll Eli to his back and climb out of bed, slipping on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt just in time for there to be another knock .

Eli’s still peacefully sleeping, so with a final glance at him, I walk out, pulling the bedroom door shut behind me.

When I open the front door, Holden’s standing on the other side, his hand raised like he’s about to knock again.

He startles, his eyes snapping to mine. My heart gets caught in my throat at the way he looks.

His eyes are swollen, like he’s been crying for days; the marks on his throat are red and irritated, and his normally clear complexion is splotchy. “Hi,” he breathes. “Can I come in?”

I’m afraid that if I talk, I’m going to break down in hysterics, so I step back and wave my hand, gesturing for him to enter.

Holden averts his eyes, stepping over the threshold into the living room. “Can we, um… Can we sit?” he asks, hovering by the couch. “We should—I need to talk to you. I’ll understand if you don’t want to.”

He’ll understand if I don’t want to what? Talk to him? How could he think that? Of course I want to talk to him. “Of course. We can definitely talk.”

He nods, staring blankly at the floor in front of him. After a second, he sits down. I take the cushion beside him, bracing my elbows on my knees and clasping my hands in front of me.

“I owe you an apology,” he starts, and I shake my head, cutting him off. “I do, though. I do. Please, just—just let me get through this, okay? Julian didn’t want me to come yet. My therapist didn’t either, but I had to. I needed to. So please let me get through it.”

I nod. I want to reach out to him. Hold his shaking hand. Offer him comfort. But I’m not sure if I can. Or if he’d even want it. An image of him begging us not to touch him flashes through my mind, and my throat tightens. “Okay,” I whisper.

He looks at me, his sad green eyes boring into mine. “I want to start by saying I love you.” My eyes widen. “I do, Nic. You’re my baby brother, and I love you. I’m so glad you found me. I realized we hadn’t done that. I hadn’t done that—hadn’t told you that. But I do.”

“I love you too,” I choke out, my throat aching.

“I didn’t want you to know,” he whispers, looking away again.

“Not because I don’t love you or because I don’t trust you.

Not even because I don’t think you could handle it.

I just—” His voice cuts off with a hiccuping sob, and then he drags in a shaky breath, exhaling it slowly.

He does it two more times before he seems to be in control of his emotions again.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, holding one of my hands out. He stares at it for a second, then he slides his fingers through mine and squeezes.

“I, um, I didn’t want you to look at me differently.

” He shakes his head in frustration. “Do you know how hard it is to live a life where everyone around you knows all the depraved things you allowed people to do to you? Do you know what it’s like to carry that shame even though you know it’s not your fault?

For your husband have to tiptoe around you during sex or to have your best friends worry constantly about you? ”

He turns tear-filled eyes on me. “It’s the worst, Nic,” he whispers, voice cracking.

“It’s the fucking worst. But you—you didn’t look at me like that.

” A tear runs down his cheek. “I was just… Holden to you. I wasn’t the fucked-up kid with trauma.

Or the adult who had to learn emotional regulation. I was just Holden. Your big brother.”

“You still are,” I assure him. “I mean, I’ve been worried. Of course I have. But you still are.”

He closes his eyes for a second, breathing deeply. “Our father kicked me out when I was fourteen.” My heart sinks. He opens his eyes, staring at me for a second before he looks away. “I did… things. Things I’m not proud of. ”

“You were a kid.” It doesn’t matter what he did. He was a child. He needed parents and love and happiness.

He nods. “Yeah, that’s what they all tell me. And I was. I’ve made peace with that. With what I’ve done.”

I’m not sure I even want to know. I’m not sure my heart can handle it. I’m not sure my stomach can, either, since it’s hurting, but I can’t help asking, “Did someone hurt you?”

He lets out a hollow laugh. “A lot of someones, Nic.” He looks away from me, gaze fixed on something across the room. “Some wanted to pretend I was younger. Some wanted power over me. Some wanted to play games with me. Some just wanted to hurt me. Some acted like they were doing me a favor.”

My throat tightens to the point of pain. I feel sick.

“I forgot about one, though. Apparently. It’s funny how the mind can trick you.”

He chokes on a breath, losing control of his emotions as his face twists in pain, and then he slowly brings his hand to his throat. “He choked me,” he whispers, his eyebrows drawing together. “I didn’t remember it, but then I saw… You had—” He stops, gasping to catch his breath.

Oh fuck.

I had my hand on Eli’s throat.

This is my fault.

It’s all my fucking fault.

My breath catches, and my eyes burn as tears well up and spill over my lashes. I did this. I fucking did this. Oh God. “I—”

Holden faces me. “It’s not your fault.”

I nod. It is, though. It is.

“It’s not.” His voice is firm. The strongest I’ve heard it since he showed up. “You didn’t know. Hell, I didn’t know. Not until that. Not until the memory came back.”

I cover my mouth with my free hand, trying to force back the sobs that want to break free of my chest.

“It was like,” he continues, swallowing hard.

“I couldn’t breathe. When it came back, it was like it was happening again.

There wasn’t air, and I was trying to get his hands away from my throat.

” That makes so much sense. Flashes of him clawing at his throat rush through my mind, making my stomach revolt.

“It wasn’t you. It was him. I remember his hands.

I remember not being able to breathe. And then…

I—” His hand trembles in mine, and I give it a little squeeze.

When he speaks again, his voice is low and laced with pain.

“When I woke up, my pants were around my ankles, and I… hurt. But I don’t remember what happened in between.

And I just… I saw you and Eli, and it unlocked it, and it all came back. ”

“Holden.” His name is all I can get as everything crashes into me. What he went through. What he’s still going through. How I triggered him. I believe him. It wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known. It sounds like none of us could have.

“Does it change things? The way you see me?” he asks, voice cracking and thick. “Do you think I’m—is it… Do you think…”

I can’t stand this. I let go of his hand and tug him into my arms. He comes immediately, which is good because, in hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have touched him without asking. But he melts into me, pressing his face against my shoulder as sobs wrack his body.

It’s only when my chest heaves that I realize I’m crying too. “No. Nothing changes. You’re my brother. Nothing changes.”

He nods against me, his entire body shaking as he cries. We stay wrapped around each other for who knows how long before he finally sits back, wiping at his face and shaking out his hands. “I’m so tired of crying. I’ve been crying for two days.”

“I’m sorry.” I clear my throat, trying to knock the knot there loose.

“Not your fault,” he says again. He slumps back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. “Is Eli okay?”

“I think so. He was pretty upset. He stayed with Beck and Roman the first night.”

“Not with you?” Holden asks, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

I shake my head. “No. I, um, left. Just kind of ran out. I shouldn’t have, but I did. Beck came and dragged me away from myself and took me home with him.”

Holden gets a tired smile on his lips. “Yeah, he’s good at that.”

I feel like the elephant is in the room, and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. “So, about, uh, Eli and I,” I start, only to be cut off by Holden letting out a little chuckle.

“I’ll save you the anxiety. I know. I’ve known . You two are about as transparent as glass. I was just waiting for you to tell me.”

My jaw drops open, then I close it.

“Don’t hurt him, or I’ll kill you, yada yada. Insert whatever threatening thing here. Honestly, I’m too emotionally wrung out to go through the whole spiel.”

“You really don’t care?” I blurt out. I’ve been freaking the fuck out for over a month, agonizing about this, worrying about what he would think, and this is the reaction? “No lecture? No telling me I’m not good enough for him? Nothing?”

“Not good enough?” Holden echoes in confusion, studying me for a second. “Why would I tell you that you’re not good enough? ”

“I just—”