Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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Whispers ignite and eyes bounce back and forth between Holden and I. We've yet to look away from each other. He continues staring at me thoughtfully and I still don't know what he's doing but hopefully these are all good signs. No more hiding. Does that mean we're going to be okay?
Still holding my gaze, he begins to speak. "When I was twenty-three, I suffered a massive injury to my shoulder that never healed."
Holy crap.
My heart stalls in my chest and I'm not the only one. Pin-drop silence follows his words as the room goes into shock. Anyone who knows Holden, who even knows of him, knows he never talks about his injury. Ever. He acknowledges everything that came after it but never where it all started. I don't know why he's choosing now to talk about it but I desperately hang onto his words as he continues.
"I had a good agent at the time. He kept the media away from me for the most part. They got the occasional update about my recovery process but no one got a first hand look at what happened to me. It was pure luck that I wasn't taken advantage of that way. Unfortunately, not everyone gets to say that."
Oh. Now I think I know where he's going with this. The stares on me are back so I'm not the only one who just put two and two together. I swallow back the emotion clogging my throat.
"I'd like to even the scales," He straightens out his neatly-placed tie. To anyone else there's nothing unusual about that but I know better. His compulsions get worse the more nervous he is. "By showing you what I really went through at the time. By showing you what was probably the most vulnerable moment in my life."
Oh, God. Why would he do that? He doesn't have to tear himself up like that. That's not helping anyone.
I try to stand but Harper grabs my arm and gently pulls me down again. I plead her with my eyes, desperate. "Let me stop him."
"You're not allowed to." She smiles sadly. "Boss-man's orders."
There's a whirring sound as a large projector screen comes down. The lights dim and the image of a paused video comes into view. Holden nods to someone on the side and a video starts to play.
"One more." A man urges a much younger Holden. I remember when he looked like that—young but so wise. His face is clenched in pain and the man claps his hands. "Give me one more, Rey."
"I can't," Holden sobs. Tears are streaking down his face and he sets his forehead on the wall in front of him. "Stop. I want to stop."
"You have to give me one more, son. Just one more wall push-up and you're done for the day."
"I can't! Can't you see it fucking hurts!" His fingers tighten into fists and another shudder wracks through him. "Call my parents. I can't do this alone."
The guy, who I'm assuming is his trainer, looks at whoever is working the camera. The pity couldn't be more obvious and he sets a hand on Holden's back.
