Breaker's Point Bad Boy Billionaires Boxset (24 page)

S
itting in the living room
, Holly stared down at her hands as Paris continued to blather on blithely about the auction. It was a struggle to keep from screaming at her to shut up. She couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that someone could be so completely blind to what was going on around her.

Holly remained silent, and smiled at intervals, in the hopes that Paris wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t heard a single word that had been said to her.

There was only one real thought in her mind and that was how she could stop her mother from falling into Marcus’ clutches. He was a violent and unpredictable man, and Holly knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t wait for her to do something wrong before taking his temper out on the woman who had given her life.

“Holly, are you listening to me?” Paris said, dragging Holly from the thoughts swirling within her mind.

“Of course, the auction was a great success,” she said, widening her fake smile.

“Not that. I asked you what was going on with
you know who
?” Paris’ emphasis of her words left Holly in no doubt as to whom she was actually talking about.

Her stomach flipped as her chest constricted, cutting off the supply of air to her lungs, making it almost impossible for her brain to function properly.

“I— I’m not sure I know what you mean?” She stammered over the words and pushed up onto her feet. Her brain swirled and part of her wondered if she could run away from the conversation, but that wouldn’t change anything.

There was nowhere she could run that would help her escape the pain she felt over Riley Reynolds. She’d been so certain that all of her feelings for him had been buried long ago, pushed deep down inside, never to surface again.

But the ache in her heart said otherwise.

“Of course you do. Everyone was talking about it… I mean, I know you and Riley used to date but that ended a long time ago and you’re with Marcus now. He can’t have been too happy about that last night?” The glee in Paris’ voice over the outcome of the auction bids left Holly feeling sick.

If she felt that way, it meant the rest of the town did too and Marcus wouldn’t take kindly to being made to look like a fool.

“It was nothing, really. Riley just wanted to do something nice for the charity.”

The look Paris shot her told Holly she wasn’t buying a word of her excuses.

“You do know if there was something going on, you could tell me.”

For a moment Holly felt the urge to spill everything to the woman sitting on the couch. It’d be so easy to just start speaking and not stop until she knew the full story. Of course, she knew if she did that as soon as Paris walked out through the front door it’d be all over town and everyone would know.

Would that be such a bad idea?

The thought popped into her mind unbidden. If everyone knew the truth, then what could Marcus do? He’d have no hold over her anymore and she’d finally be free.

The urge to spill her secret was so overwhelming that Holly clamped her hand over her mouth and fled from the room.

She was so focused on keeping her fear inside that she didn’t realise Marcus was watching until he grabbed her arms and swung her in against the wall.

“You want to tell her, don’t you? You want to spill your little sob story and you think that’ll be enough to get rid of me?” His breath was hot against her cheek as he leaned in against her body and held her in place.

“I don’t want to tell her, I…”

“If you utter one word of any of this to her, then your mother, your father, Riley—they’re all dead. Do you hear me?” As though to emphasise his point, he shook her, rattling her against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs.

She nodded, unable to form the words. Holly knew he was telling the truth, she could see it in his eyes, as though he was daring her to cross him.

“Good girl, now dry your eyes and get back in there and tell Paris we’re moving the date for the wedding forward.”

He released her slowly and Holly scrubbed her hands against her eyes. She hadn’t realised she’d been crying until he pointed it out to her.

“Why bring the wedding forward?” she said, holding onto the anger that was beginning to swell within her once more.

“Because I can’t trust you to do as I ask and the sooner we’re married the sooner I can legally lay claim to your father’s business.”

“He doesn’t have a business, he gambled it all away,” Holly said, confusion creating a pressure headache that descended over her eyes.

“Yeah, to me. I’ve kept the business alive, but once we’re married your father will sign it over to me legally and I’ll step into his place officially. To the rest of the world it’ll look as though he’s simply handing the reins over to his son-in-law—the son he never had.”

“What are you going to do with an import business? It’s not as though you need it.”

Marcus grinned but it only left Holly feeling cold.

“I’m afraid that’s above your pay grade. Now get back in there.”

He spun her around to face the door and Holly flinched as she felt his hand pat against the curve of her ass.

“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me,” she said, shooting a hostile look at him over her shoulder.

“I’ll do whatever I want with my property, sweetheart. You’d do well to remember that if you want to stay on my good side.”

Holly stalked away from him. There was no point in continuing to argue with him, since it wouldn’t achieve anything aside from riling him even further and his unpredictable nature made him too dangerous to keep poking him like that.

Stepping back into the room, Paris shot her a confused look, her eyes widening a little and Holly knew she’d noticed her tearstained cheeks.

“Are you alright, Holly? You’ve been acting a little strange lately and I’m concerned.”

In all the years that Holly had known Paris she’d never heard genuine concern from her about anything… Until now.

“I’m fine, you don’t need to worry. I’m just a little overwhelmed with everything, the planning for the wedding and…” She trailed off, the words
we’ve brought the date forward,
sticking in the back of her throat.

“And I can’t imagine Riley’s little stunt last night made it any easier?”

“We’ve brought the date forward.” Holly blurted the words out. It was the only real way to get Paris off the trail of her obsession with Riley and Marcus.

Surprise crossed her face, and Holly had to smother a smile down inside as she watched Paris’ mouth form a perfect tiny O of shock.

“You’re not…” She trailed off and gestured in Holly’s direction.

“What?”

Holly watched as Paris continued to gesture towards her, her confusion only deepening.

“You know…” She gestured to her stomach, a sly smile crossing her face.

“Pregnant?” Holly said, shaking her head vehemently.

The thought alone was enough to turn her stomach upside down. Marcus’ threat popped into her head and it left her feeling cold.

“Oh, well then what’s the rush? Planning a wedding is hard enough but to bring the date forward with so much left to finalise, well, it makes no sense. There has to be a reason.”

Holly shook her head and plastered a fake smile on her face.

“We just really can’t wait.”

The words left her through gritted teeth but she had to say something, anything to throw Paris off.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, Paris, I really need to get back to planning. Marcus is having some business associates over tonight and there’s a lot to get done.”

Paris stood and quickly gathered up her Versace purse from the couch.

“Of course, I’ll see you at the next charity meeting, won’t I?”

Holly gave a thin-lipped smile and fought to push some positivity into her voice.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss it.”

However, the fact was she had no idea if she’d be at the meeting or not. Marcus’ sudden interest in the charity the night before had caught her off guard. What if he insisted on attending the meeting alongside her? He was already worming his way into every other aspect of her life. It didn’t seem completely outside the bounds of reality.

Paris smiled a wide happy smile and dragged Holly into a tight hug.

She felt wooden, almost robotic, as she returned the hug.

And yet as she released Paris and watched her walk out the door, the urge to chase after her and scream how it was all a lie was difficult to quell.

The sound of Paris’ murmured voice and Marcus’ slimy laughter drifted back to her from the hall and Holly froze.

A moment later the front door shut and Marcus appeared in the living room doorway.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” He smiled and turned on his heel.

Heat flooded Holly’s cheeks and she clenched her hands into tight fists. If she was ever given the opportunity to end him she would take it without hesitation. It was a thought that should have frightened her—she was, after all, planning the death of another human being. But she just couldn’t muster the will within herself to care anymore and that frightened her far more.

T
aking
the steps two at a time up to the front door, Riley made his way into the house. The silence that greeted him unnerved him.

He’d been so certain Griffin would be here. If he was in town it was normally one of the first places he turned up.

Heading in the direction of the office, the sound of a glass hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud made him pick up his pace.

Pushing the door to the office open, he scanned the room, his gaze coming to rest on the body slumped against the wall behind the desk.

“Shit,” Riley muttered to himself as he crossed the floor and crouched down next to the slumped form of his younger brother.

His eyes were closed, his pasty pallor only emphasising the purple bruising across his cheek. He was a mess and from the smell of sweat and alcohol rising from him, Riley could only assume he hadn’t seen the inside of a shower in a number of days.

“Griffin, what the hell have you done?” Riley said, using his thumb to lift one of his brother’s heavy eyelids up. His eyes were unfocused and bloodshot but he shifted his head out of Riley’s reach and groaned.

“You used to keep the best stuff in your office,” he paused and blinked, sliding farther to the left as he lifted a bottle of brandy from where he was cradling it against his chest, “but I could only find this cheap crap in the back of the cabinet…” He slurred his words and his eyes became unfocused once more as they rolled up into the back of his head.

“Grif, I don’t have time for babysitting you. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on tour.”

“No tour, I just need to sleep.”

Riley groaned while Griffin fought against him as he tried to pick him up from the floor.

In all the years since their parents had died and Griffin had become the lead guitarist for Black Special, he’d never once seen him as drunk as he was now.

“Yeah, well you’re not sleeping on the floor of my office,” Riley said, gritting his teeth as he hoisted the dead weight of his brother up from the floor and pushed him up onto his shoulder.

The brandy bottle hit the floor with a thump that had Riley cringing. He swung around and was relieved to find it unbroken.

Carrying Griffin from the room, he took the stairs one at a time, slow and steady, as his brother began to snore.

“What happened?” Isla’s voice carried up from the bottom of the stairs.

“Griffin’s home,” Riley said, struggling to keep the edge from his voice.

His brother was a wild card but when he’d decided to come home and find out what he was up to, this wasn’t what he’d had in mind.

Reaching the first floor, Riley carried him down the hall to one of the guest rooms and kicked the door open. Taking him to the king-size bed, he dumped Griffin unceremoniously onto the soft mattress.

“I think I’m going to be sick…” Griffin announced, his face puckering up as he started to heave.

Isla bustled into the room, tutting beneath her breath as she grabbed Griffin by the collar of the black sweatshirt he wore and dragged him to the edge of the bed.

Riley watched on in wonderment as she produced a basin, seemingly from nowhere, and held it to Griffin’s face as he began to vomit.

“You’re a godsend, Isla. You know that, don’t you?” Riley said, his voice filled with admiration and affection.

“No, I’m just doing what needs to be done, Riley. You boys are like my own and I don’t like to see any of you hurting.”

She brushed her hand back through Griffin’s hair as she spoke. It was a tender gesture, one a mother might do, and yet Riley knew his own mother would never have done it.

“You need to get ready, don’t you?” she said, glancing back at Riley over her shoulder.

“Ready?” Riley asked.

“Yes, ready, Riley Reynolds. Is there an echo in here? Your friend Anderson was on the phone just before you got in and he said he’d pick you up at seven, that way you can be sure to both arrive together.”

Riley smiled but it died on his lips as he watched Griffin roll back onto the bed.

“I can’t just leave him here like this. The idiot is too drunk to be trusted on his own. I don’t want him getting sick again and choking on it.” Riley sighed and started to shrug out of his jacket.

The thought of not being there for Holly left him with a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. Only Griffin could pick the worst possible time to return home in such a dramatic fashion.

“I’ll look after him and once he wakes up, I’ll be sure to give him an ear full. I don’t exactly consider sitting on the side of the bed, holding a bucket of sick, to be fun.”

“Isla, no, I can’t ask that of you. You already do far too much around here. You should go home and relax, you deserve it.”

A sad look crossed her face. It passed as quickly as it had arrived but Riley didn’t miss it. She shook her head and the smile she looked up at him with was forced.

“The night is long enough to be alone. At least this way I won’t be spending the evening on my own.”

“Isn’t your daughter coming in for a visit?”

Isla smiled up at him again but it was an expression tinged with sadness around the edges.

“She can’t make it… Now that’s enough about me,” she said, her voice changing and becoming firmer. “I’m not moving, so unless you plan to sit around and watch me nurse Griffin, you need to go and get ready.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Riley said, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. Her skin was soft and papery, her familiar perfume enveloping him.

“Go on, go.” Her voice was hoarse as Riley left her in the room and headed down the hall to his own room.

An odd mingling of relief and guilt washed over him. It wasn’t right to leave Isla here with Griffin, but at the same time he knew just how stubborn she was and no amount of insisting she go home would work on her.

But she had given him the chance to continue on with his plans and for that he was more grateful than she could ever know. Heading to the wardrobe, he pulled out a fresh suit, still in its wrapper from the dry cleaners, and began to change.