Page 75 of Pocketful of Shame

"Oh, holy fuck," Presley strangled out, eyes growing wide as saucers. "Is that her–"

"Father?" Sketch offered grimly. "Yeah, sounds about right."

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sketch

Storming through the bedroom, I unlocked the door, in no damn mood to deal with Cal fucking Dillon. Romi had, once again, turned my life on its axis and I needed answers, not a hysterical parent screaming at me.

Beyond confused and fresh out of patience, I willed my racing mind to calm the fuck down. I needed to have my wits about me when dealing with a shark like Romi's father. Otherwise, he would eat me alive.

Yanking the door inwards, I not only came face to face with Cal and my father, but mymotherwas standing there, too.

"Mama?" My brows creased in confusion at the sight of her. "What are you –"

Her palm connected with my cheek before I could finish. "How dare you take that girl out of hospital without permission!" she seethed, glaring up at me, her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun. "Have you any idea how worried her father has been?"

Andthereshe was. My mama; hard as steel and cold as concrete.

"We thought you'd beentaken," she continued to rant, her red-rimmed eyes the only sign she was shaken-up on her otherwise perfectly-plastic face. "You didn’t call your father for almost a week, Holden!"

I wouldn’t have called at all if I hadn't been drinking,I mentally replied. Instead, I turned my attention to my father. "Dad."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Holden." His gaze trailed over me. "You're in one piece."

"Are you disappointed?"

"Relieved," he surprised me by saying.

"So, how'd you find me?"

"Your father and Cal traced the Presley boy's phone," Mama answered for him. "Romi placed a call to Cal on it yesterday morning." Her eyes blazed with fury when she hissed, "I should've known that little freak would be mixed up in this. He was always sniffing around your brother – bringing nothing but trouble to the door."

I sighed heavily. "Presley ain't a freak, Mama. He's a good guy."

"Where is she?" Cal rudely interrupted, shoving past me to stalk into the room. "Ramona Priscilla Dillon, you better come out right this minute, young lady, before I tear this prick apart, limb from limb."

"Fucking try it," I sneered, folding my arms across my chest.

"No need to do that," Presley called out, skulking out of the bathroom with Romi in tow – Romi, who looked like she had seen a ghost.

"Jesus Christ!" Heaving out a huge sigh, Cal closed the space between them and wrapped her up in his arms. "You're okay."

Unlike every other time I'd seen them together, Romi flinched away from her father's touch, turning to stone in his arms.

With the alcohol still floating around in my system, I was having a hard time trying to figure out what the hell was happening with her, but I knew this wasn't good. "What's wrong?" I demanded, stepping around my parents who had strode into the room. "Ro –"

"Get the hell away from her," Cal seethed, keeping her tucked tightly under his arm. "You've done enough damage to her. My daughter is coming with me."

"Like hell she's going anywhere with you," I snarled, snagging Romi's hand and quickly yanking her away from him. She came willingly, burying her face in my chest. "Ya'll can back the fuck up, too," I growled, casting a warning glance at my parents who were edging closer to us.

"Holden!"

"Back off, Mama," I warned, keeping a protective arm wrapped around Romi. "I ain't playing around here."

"Run," Romi mumbled, fingernails digging into my sides. "Run now."

"Romi?" Pres whispered, hovering behind me. "What is it?"

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