Getting too close wasn’t smart, but it was too late. Faith Towler had wormed her way into his heart, and that hurt worse than all the years he’d studiously avoided her. Maybe he could play the doting uncle. Maybe he could spend time with Faith like Nixon did. Maybe he could come up with a cute nickname for her like Jameson had.
Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to give up Faith.
Or, maybe he needed to walk away now before they were all drowning in more pain.
The thought made Holden’s chest physically ache.
Yeah, it was way too late to pull away now.
“I’m gonna head home and let you two get some sleep.”
“No.”
Never in all his life had he seen anyone move as fast as Faith. She practically jumped from the hospital bed into Holden’s arms. Her limbs wound around Holden like a rabid spider monkey. Her little arms wrapped around his neck, and with surprising strength, she choked the hell out of him.
“Whoa, doll,” he wheezed.
“Don’t leave me.”
That was not a timid request—it was an unholy demand. Her voice was hoarse and full of panic, her grip didn’t loosen, and her body shook.
“Faith,” Charleigh started.
“You can’t leave. You can’t, you can’t, you can’t.”
She was working herself up into a tizzy and Holden would do or say anything to calm her down.
“Okay, I won’t leave.”
Holden’s eyes went to Charleigh and his lungs seized. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks. But when Leigh-Leigh’s gaze lifted and their eyes locked, Holden learned a whole new meaning of hell.
He knew his Leigh-Leigh. Back in the day, he’d made it a point to know her every look. He could read her body language and know exactly what she was feeling. She’d hidden nothing from him. His woman was an open book. And right then, he was transported back to a time he’d never thought he’d be in again. Only now, despair coupled with the longing he saw.
Yearning. Fear. Anguish. Hope.
Holden knew he had to make a decision, and quick. But with Faith wrapped around him and Leigh-Leigh giving him that look, he had no choice.
He’d tried to walk away. He’d tried to give her a life. He’d tried to do the right thing.
But he wouldn’t be able to do it a second time.
15
They made a pretty picture.
That was my shameful thought as the vision of Holden holding my daughter turned watery.
I had to remind myself Faith was home, she was safe, and she was unharmed. Patricia and Beatrice were in jail. So was that Chad asshole who’d hit me and knocked me out. As soon as I’d opened the door and saw Patty standing behind him, I knew I was in trouble. Actually, I’d sensed the trouble before I’d opened the door. All of my instincts were screaming that there was danger behind my front door. Yet, I’d stupidly opened it anyway, thinking it was Holden I was sensing.
Even as disoriented as I was, when I’d woken up, I’d been frantic to talk to Holden, to tell him who had Faith and beg him to find her. Once Kennedy calmed me down, she explained Holden had been in to see me but didn’t stay. At first, my heart sank to a new level of despair. Then she told me Holden wasn’t at the hospital because he and Jameson were already searching for Faith. Holden had blindly gone on the hunt for my kidnapped child. With me unconscious, they had no leads. But Holden had known who’d taken Faith, and he went to Virginia prepared to do whatever he had to do to get her back for me.
And he did. He’d found her and brought her home.
Now my child was clinging to Holden like he was her lifeline. Not me—Holden. She’d leapt out of my arms into his and wrapped her tiny body around his much larger one, and from my position on the bed, I could see her trembling.
I’d hated the Towlers for years, but never had I wished horrible things upon them like I did now. I hoped they were sitting in a jail cell, scared out of their minds. I hoped they were uncomfortable. I hoped that a great many awful things happened to them while they rotted away behind bars. This time, they’d gone too far. This time, they’d awakened the vicious mama bear, and I would stop at nothing until they were ruined. They’d never see Paul’s money. They’d never, ever see Faith again. I would fight until my dying breath to ensure my child wouldn’t have to endure another second with them.
“Faith, honey, it’s late. Holden’s been busy all day. Maybe we should let him go home and get some sleep.”
“No.”
No. Just no. That was all my daughter squeaked out as she clung to Holden.
My gaze lifted and met Holden’s steely eyes. The ever-present pang of loss and grief hit me, but unlike all the other times, I couldn’t hide it. I was emotionally spent. My child had been kidnapped. Kidnapped. Stolen from my home, and I’d been powerless to protect her. The stress, fear, and pain of the day bore down on me and I couldn’t stop the tears. Relief and frustration mingled together. Anger and the deepest terror I’d ever felt boiled until I wanted to lash out and hit something, or scream, or flip the universe off for being so cruel.
“Leigh-Leigh?”
God, he needed to stop calling me that. Every time he said it another crack in my heart formed. That stupid nickname was like salt in a very open wound. One that would never heal. The gashes would always be there, bleeding, exposed, gaping.
“Babe?”
I blinked and Holden came back into focus. His features had softened, the look reminiscent of days gone by. Days and nights when he only looked at me with love and care.
“Everything’s gonna be okay,” he continued. “Faith’s home and no one’s gonna hurt her.
