Holly Madison (Sins of the Father, 2) (13 page)

I arrive at the gym in hopes of getting to Tristan first.  He is about to find out the one thing I have tried to keep silent about for years.   I knew that it would come out eventually.  Little did I know that it would come out and destroy the one man I have ever loved. 

My God!  How could this be happening?  The Tryon Daily Bulletin made it a front-page story.  They reported that Joshua Hart had been charged in the hit-and-run that killed Alexis Holt all those years ago.  No one knew the connection because of the last name until they mentioned that one small detail: “Holt is the ex-husband of Elizabeth Madison, mother of survivor Holly Madison.” 

I am living in a nightmare that is about to rip Tristan to shreds.  The tears in my eyes are blurring my sight.  I can barely see the building as I sprint from the car to the gym.  I reach for the door, aggressively yanking it open and running at full speed past the men grappling on mats and pounding on punching bags.  I make it to the office and stop dead in my tracks.

The expression on his face says that I didn’t get to him first.  I feel my face go pale and my breath hitch in my throat when his cold, lifeless eyes find mine. 

All of the air has left the room.  He stands, kicking his chair behind him with such force that it slams against the wall and topples over.  He turns and reaches down, lifting the chair up and tossing it across the room.  It crashes into the window that separates the office from the rest of the gym. 

His eyes are murderous, his nostrils are flaring ,and his chest is visibly rising and falling.  “When were you going to tell me?  Or did you just think I would never find out?” he roars at me as his long legs eat the space between us.  He stops mere inches from me with his fists clenched at his sides.

A sob escapes me as my chin trembles followed by the rest of my body. 

“Yeah!  Saw the paper, cupcake,” he sarcastically announces.

I nod because that is all I can do at this point.  I have no excuses.  Plus, he looks beyond enraged and I don’t think that this is the right time to speak up about anything.

He leans forward, which makes me take a step back, and he yells, “I saw the fucking paper!  How could you keep something like this from me?  From my family?  You play me so that you could get into my family’s good graces and report back to your murdering sack-of-shit father?”

“No,” I push through the golf-ball-sized lump that is caught in my throat.

“I can’t believe that you of all people would be so devious.”

“Tristan, please,” I whisper.  I am still trembling, only now it is so bad that I can barely stand.  My knees are going to buckle under me.  I am so terrified that all I can do is watch him.

Tristan jerks back and rounds his desk.  When he gets to it, he slams his fists on the top of it.  “You worked your way into my life.  You made me feel shit that I’ve never felt
for anyone
.  I was falling for you, only for you to be a selfish, conniving daughter of a piece of scum.”

My feet move as I take three strides before the look on his face again brings me to a screeching halt. 

“Don’t you dare come near me, Holly.” 

On a shaky breath, I crack.  “Please.”

“Please what?” he growls.  “What could you possibly want from me now?  You fucking played me for a fool.  You were in my bed.  You wanted so badly to drive that knife into my back that you spread your legs for me and gave up that pussy so easily?”

His words hit me like a fatal blow to the heart.  “Tristan, I can—“

“Get the fuck out,” he finishes and jabs his finger at me.  “You didn’t spend two days trapped in a car that was flipped over in a ravine watching your mother’s life slip away with every ragged breath she took!  She died wheezing with every. Fucking. Breath.”  His voice cracks on the last word.

I freeze completely as Tristan continues to speak in a chilling, level voice.

“I watched her bleed all over the place.  The metallic scent stung my nose, and I can still smell it to this day.  It was leaking from a gash in her head, from her nose, her ears.”  He closes his eyes.

Oh God! 

“Tristan—” I exhale, but he cuts me off. 

“Do you know what that’s like?  To watch someone who means more to you than anything die right in front of you while you are in agony from your own pain?”  His eyes move to the ceiling as he takes in a deep breath.

My heart is hammering against my chest and the tears fall over sliding down my cheeks.  “I was in the car with my father.” 

Tristan’s startled eyes found mine.  “What?” he asks, his tone full of disbelief. 

I shake my head and go on.  “You didn’t make it that far in the article, did you?”

He says nothing.

“That’s how I got the scar on my arm and up here.”  I move back the hair that somewhat covers the scar.  “He asked me to lie.  Tell them that we hit a deer.  I was only nine years old and I didn’t know what to do.”

Tristan watches me as I tell him the details of that dreadful night.  “You hit a deer?” he asks as I see the light in his eyes completely extinguish.  My heart can’t take it as it skips a few more beats.  I put my hand to the wall to steady myself. 

Holy shit!  This is killing him.  I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but it just comes out.  No warning.

“I’m pregnant.”  As soon as the words leave my lips, I regret them.  I slap my hand over my mouth as the sudden silence fills the room.  I can see the rage vibrating off Tristan as his body stills and his jaw ticks.

“Lies,” he bites out as he closes the distance and grabs my arm, pulling me towards the door. 

I yank my arm free. “It’s not a lie, Tristan.  I’m pregnant with our baby.  I just found out this afternoon.” 

His body goes solid while my heart stops and my gut twists into a tight, little knot.  His head sags for a second before he releases the fury in his eyes on me. 

“That bastard you are carrying is not mine.”  He takes a step forward.  “I can’t trust anything that comes from your lips.  The only good thing that that mouth of yours is good for is sucking my cock, and darlin’…those days are over.”

“Oh my God,” I murmur, placing a hand over my midsection as if covering my unborn child’s ears.

He peers down at me, emotionless. 

“I haven’t been with anyone else.  It’s only been you, I swear it.”

“Get out!” he shouts so loud that it makes me jump. 

I don’t move.  My feet are planted where I stand.  Whether it is out of fear or shock, I don’t know.  I swallow past that nagging lump that has yet to subside in my throat.

“Get the fuck out,” he growls.

“This isn’t fair, Tristan.  You have to listen to me.”

“Life isn’t fair, cupcake,” he returns.

“Please,” I try once more.

“I was fucking falling for you,” he bellows as his fist slams into the wall next to me. 

I let out another sob.  He rubs his fist as the rage continues to flow through him.  I can’t think.  I can’t speak.  All I can do is watch as this man unravels right in front of me.  His eyes are cold and dead of any emotion that may have once been there.

When I finally do come back from the shock of watching this transformation, I say, “This baby is ours.  You and me.  Created out of love.  I don’t sleep around and you know that.  I understand that you are angry, but this baby is an innocent child who deserves two loving parents.”

Tristan snorts and shakes his head.  He stalks to the door of the office, gripping the knob and jerking it open.  “Your ass needs to be gone.  Now.”

My jaw goes slack.  He doesn’t believe me. 

I walk up to him and stare at his face, willing him to look back at me, which he doesn’t.  He turns his head to make damn sure I don’t get that satisfaction.  I nod, straighten my spine, and walk out the door, not exactly sure what happens next. 

The door shuts behind me with a slam followed by several crashes.  My feet pick up speed.  I make it to the front of the gym, push the door wide, and take off down the street to my car.  Before getting in, I race to the bush nearby and heave all of the contents from my stomach.

On Saturday evening, I am at Holts meeting up with Emma, who is working the bar with Braden and Juice.  Olivia, Jake, and Jake’s new girl Claire are here too.  Jim has called an emergency meeting and asked that I show up too. 

As soon as the news came out about my father, Emma got to me.  The Holt family had a hard time getting a grasp on their emotions at the very beginning. There were anger, tears, and looks of resentment the night I sat down and explained the situation.  I went as far as to tell them that I’d put two and two together when I’d seen Alexis’s photo on the wall.  I also told them all about the baby.

It didn’t take long for Jim to show me compassion.  It was almost immediate.  Olivia was next.  Not long after, Braden and Jake followed.  I haven’t spoken to Tristan in over three weeks.  He won’t answer my calls and refuses to see me.  I can’t eat or sleep.  That kind of stress can’t be good for the baby. 

I’ve already decided that I love this baby growing inside me.  Whether Tristan feels the same way or not doesn’t matter. I will raise him or her on my own if I have to.  It’s just that simple.

I make my way to the nearest barstool, which just so happens to be next to Jake.  The crowd is decent, not overwhelming but just enough to keep the staff on their feet. 

Olivia skips over, practically throwing herself at me, and kisses my cheek.  “Hey, baby doll,” she greets.

“Hey, sista,” I return. 

“What’s your poison tonight?”

“I’ll take a sweet tea.” This place has the best sweet tea in the South. 

Olivia looks at me quizzically. 

“The baby,” I remind her.  

“Oh yeah!”  She nods and retrieves a glass, dunking it in the ice bin and filling it with sweet tea.  After placing a cocktail napkin in front of me, she sets my drink down with a straw.  Then she wipes her hands down the front of her apron and pops them on her hips.

“Everything okay?”

Before I can respond, Olivia lifts her eyes and I feel my neck get tight.  I turn on my stool and see him.  Tristan is stumbling down the aisle as he makes his way to the bar with Shawna Mitchell wrapped around him.  I never did like her.  She is easy.  Not only is she the town slut, but she is the town bitch.

Tonight, she is wearing a red dress that fits like a glove and threatens to show off more than any of us want to see along with a pair of four-inch platforms, a choker chain, and her blond, frizzy hair teased out to there.  She dons way too much makeup and can’t keep her hands off
my
man.

Tristan looks like hell.  His hair is messier than his usual, his eyes have black circles under them, and his clothes look disheveled.  I wonder how long it’s been since he has slept. 

This is not good.

Olivia appears next to me, arms crossed and scowling at her brother.

Tristan and Shawna stop when they reach us, swaying and holding each other up. 

“Hi, Tristan,” I greet, standing from my stool and taking a step toward him. 

His gaze travels the length of me before looking me in the eye.  He clearly isn’t happy to see me.

“Can we talk for a minute?”  I ask in hopes that maybe he will give me a moment of his time. 

He is definitely off.  His eyes are glazed over and he can barely focus on me.  “I have nothing to say to you.”  He sniffs. 

Oh God.  He is high.

“Tristan, please.  I won’t take much of your time, I promise.”

His head tips back and he booms out a laugh.  “You promise?” Sniff. “You promise?” he replies with a disbelieving tone before looking over my shoulder to the bar.  “Bro!” he hollers.

“What the fuck are you doing?” is Jake’s response.  This surprises me.  Jake isn’t the type to make a scene. 

“I’m here for the family meeting that pop called to order.  I didn’t know
she
would be here,” Tristan hisses.

“Bullshit.” This came from Braden, who materializes next to Olivia.  “You knew Holly was coming up here tonight.  I told you this earlier.”

“Now, brother—“Tristan begins only to be interrupted by Braden.

“You want to fuck around?  Do this here where there are witnesses?  Fine. Let’s do this.”

“Tristan,” I interject, “I just want to know that you’re okay.  You aren’t answering your phone.”

“I am, just not when you’re calling.”

Damn.  I expected that response, but it still stings.  All I can do is hang my head in defeat.  To avoid any more humiliation, I decide that that’s my cue.  I walk over to Emma, who can’t tear her eyes from the scene unfolding.  I lean over the bar, kiss her cheek, and turn to make my grand escape when Jake’s hand grips my arm. 

“Don’t leave,” he orders with a hard voice I don’t recognize.  “You are welcome here as much as he is.”

“What?” I ask.

“You don’t deserve this shit, Holly.  Him making you uncomfortable for something that you had no hand in.  It is so unrealistic for him to push the blame off on you.”

“I’m thinking you two,” Braden pipes in to Tristan and Shawna, “need to leave.  Go sober up.”

They ignore him.  “Her father killed our mother.  Left me for dead too,” he spits.