Home > The Wreckage of Us(24)

The Wreckage of Us(24)
Author: Brittainy C. Cherry

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about it. You look beautiful.” She smiled so brightly I couldn’t help but smile too. I’d never seen such a genuine expression in all my life.

Holly was so beautiful in an effortless way. She had long silvery hair that was pulled back into a ponytail and eyes that matched Ian’s. Though she was much shorter than Big Paw, she held her head high. She was slender and stood up straighter than most people my age.

If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed she was in her late sixties—not eighties.

“If you’re looking for Ian, it seems he’s not here, or maybe not up yet,” I told her.

She shook her head. “Oh no. I know that. He’s the one who called me. He’s working at the ranch already and—”

My eyes widened in pure panic. “Oh my gosh, what time is it? I’m supposed to be at the ranch working!” I knew if Big Paw found out that I was late, I’d be out of a job in a heartbeat. “I’m sorry, Holly, I have to get going to—”

She placed a hand on my arm and shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Ian said you weren’t feeling well today, so he’s taking over your tasks.”

A ripple of relief and shock raced through my system. “Is he upset? That he has to take on those tasks?”

“Lord, no. He actually sent me over to check on you and make sure you had some food to eat and some coffee to drink.” She raised an eyebrow. “You do drink coffee, right?”

I smiled, feeling relief fall over me as my anxiety was replaced with comfort. “All the coffee.”

“Good.” Holly walked over to her basket, pulled out a few ibuprofen and a water bottle, and handed them my way. “Now take these and shower up, and by the time you’re done, I’ll have some breakfast ready for you.”

I thanked her for her kindness and headed off to hop in the shower.

I understood why people drank to forget. Last night, I’d felt free from the burden of Mama’s struggles for a split second. I needed that break to stop feeling everything so strongly. But unluckily, I wasn’t one of those humans who forgot everything that happened when they drank.

Nope. I remembered it all.

Especially the parts where I’d called Ian “H-A-W-T” and talked about the lady boner I had for him. Gosh. The next time I saw him, I was certain I’d be fifty shades of red from humiliation.

After my shower, I considered putting on makeup to cover my bruise, but since Holly had already noticed it, I didn’t see much reason to do it.

The house smelled heavenly, as if a Top Chef had come in all on their own to cook up a meal for me. As I walked into the dining room, I found Holly setting up two plates that were filled with bacon, eggs, and home-style potatoes. My coffee cup was filled to the brim, and my stomach started doing somersaults of excitement.

“This looks and smells amazing,” I commented as I took my seat.

She smiled as she slid into hers. “The best cure for a hangover is homemade cooking,” she exclaimed. “I’ve had to cook plenty of these meals for Ian and his best friends throughout the years.”

“He’s lucky to have you.”

“I’m lucky to have him. He and Harry are my two biggest headaches. Lord only knows how I’ve dealt with their grumpy exteriors, but deep down inside, those two are teddy bears. They build up walls to avoid getting hurt; that’s for sure. I’m one of the lucky few who they’ve let see their gentle sides.”

“So I shouldn’t take their grumpy sides personal?”

“Heavens, no. It’s just their wall of protection from getting hurt. After my daughter and son-in-law left, both Harry and Ian struggled. Having someone so important to them leave without a goodbye really damaged their hearts. My boys are sensitive. More than most people. They are terrified of being hurt, so they pretend that nothing stings them.”

“That has to be lonely.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I worry more about Ian. He’s so closed off and doesn’t let anyone in close enough to show him any kind of comfort—outside of his bandmates. But then he played me your song, and I saw a spark inside of him that I haven’t seen in a while.”

“What do you mean? What do you mean, he played you my song?”

“The one you helped him write. He came over and played it for Harry and me, and we were blown away. I hadn’t seen him that invested in his music in so long, and those lyrics . . .” She pressed her hands to her chest and shook her head in amazement. “I haven’t heard my grandson sing such beautiful words in all my life. So thank you for that.”

“For what?”

“Helping him find his voice. He’s been searching for years, and for the first time ever, it seems he’s on to something, and I think it has a lot to do with you. You’re truly gifted at the written word.”

I felt my face grow flushed, and I wiggled around in my chair. “He’s an amazing singer on his own,” I said.

“Yes.” She reached out and placed her hand on top of mine. “But what’s a singer without beautiful words to sing? All I’m saying is you’re good for him, even if he pretends that you’re not. Plus, I think he cares about you, too, just from what he said when he called to ask me to stop by.”

“What did he say?”

“To make sure you’re okay. That he needed you to be okay.”

And just like that, my heart skipped a beat from Ian Parker’s words.

Holly leaned forward and placed her hands against my bruised face. “Who hurt you, sweetheart?”

I closed my eyes and took in a sharp breath. “Charlie, my mother’s boyfriend.”

“Does it hurt?”

“The bruise? A little less than before.”

“No. Your soul. Does it hurt? Does it ache?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

She wiped away a fallen tear from my eye before smiling that kind smile my way. “My boyfriend before Harry used to use his hands against me. He’d bruise me in places where people couldn’t see for a long time. From the outside, we looked happy. On the inside, I was dying. It wasn’t until he left a big mark against my face that I knew I needed to stop the cycle of abuse. I felt humiliated. I wore so much makeup to try to hide the bruises; then I found a way to leave. Over time, the outer bruises healed, but the bruises on my soul took a lot longer. Then, when I found out my daughter’s husband was doing the same to her, it broke my heart. No real man would ever lay a hand on a woman, except to show her his love. I hate that someone did that to you. I hate that someone hurt you.”

“I worry so much about my mother,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “She has so many bruises, both inside and out, and I don’t see them ever healing with her so wrapped around Charlie’s finger. He’s so abusive toward her, and I hate it. I hate how he hurts her, and I hate how she stays. I hate how she falls into drugs to cover her pain. We’ve almost gotten away so many times, but she always finds her way back to his toxic ways. I hate that she’s so weak.”

“No, no, no. She’s lost, not weak. I’ve watched the drugs take over my Sarah; I watched how they changed her into someone that she wasn’t. Your mother’s mind is lost, and Charlie is using that fact to control her.”

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