Page 26 of Sticks & Serpents

“You should be,” I countered softly, watching as the corners of her mouth twitched downward.

The truth simmered between us; the magnetic pull tugged at something deep within me—a primal instinct that craved more than just this tense standoff. The fight within her lit a fire that reminded me of our past: reckless nights filled with laughter and whispered secrets.

The part of Holly that liked when things got out of control hadn’t vanished entirely; it was still there, buried beneath layers of self-protection and fear. And maybe—just maybe—I would coax it back out into the open again.

“This is work. You’ll behave, or we’re done.” Holly snapped back, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

I chuckled, a low sound that filled the small space between us. Her confidence was adorable, and I leaned into it, reveling in how she tried to assert control.

“That’s not how this works,” I replied, letting the smirk linger on my lips. “You don’t get to be done with me.”

I stood then, rising from my chair and towering over her. The way her posture shifted told me everything I needed to know; she felt it too—the pull of our history wrapping around us like a vine, suffocating yet familiar.

I stepped closer, invading her space deliberately. I could see the flicker of defiance in her eyes battling against something else—something deeper that had always drawn us together.

“You’re stuck with me, Holly.” My voice dropped lower as I leaned in just enough for her to feel the weight of my presence pressing against her resolve. “You know why? Because your daddy made a deal with the devil. And now you’re paying the price.”

The spark in her eyes dulled momentarily as my words sank in. For all her strength, she knew exactly what kind of game we were playing—how easily things could spiral out of control. She was tangled up in this mess just as much as I was.

“I won’t let you ruin this for me,” she shot back, but there was an edge of uncertainty threading through her tone.

“Ruin what?” I asked softly, a mocking lilt creeping into my voice. “This charity game? Your little plans? You should know by now that chaos is my specialty.”

Her breath caught slightly; she was torn between anger and something more vulnerable—the fear that perhaps I wouldn’t let go again. And why would I? The thrill of seeing her so riled up made it hard to think straight.

I relished every second of this standoff. It was intoxicating—the tension building like a storm on the horizon—and deep down; I knew it wasn’t just about power anymore; it was about getting back what had been lost between us all those years ago.

Holly’s breath caught, and for a brief moment, I saw the crack in her armor. It was enough to send a thrill coursing through me. But she quickly masked it, her gaze turning steely as she squared her shoulders, trying to regain control.

“Then let’s get through this and never speak again,” she declared, her voice firm despite the tremor that lingered beneath the surface.

I couldn’t help but grin. I knew better. Holly could pretend all she wanted, but we both understood that this wasn’t just about the charity game. It never had been. There was a fire between us that couldn’t be snuffed out so easily.

“Sure, little lamb,” I replied smoothly, leaning in closer until our faces were mere inches apart. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Her eyes flared with defiance, but there was something deeper lurking beneath—an undeniable pull that seemed to tug at both of us. She wanted to fight it; I could see that in the way her lips pressed into a thin line. But part of her still craved the chaos we’d shared.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, though the way her breath quickened told me my words had hit their mark.

“Why not? It suits you,” I teased back, watching as her cheeks flushed with anger—or was it something else? Either way, it was delightful to provoke her like this.

“I’m not some naive girl who needs protecting,” she shot back fiercely.

“Never said you were.” My voice dropped low again as I held her gaze steady. “But we both know you can’t resist a good story.”

A flicker of uncertainty crossed her features before she masked it with stubborn resolve again. The tension between us crackled like electricity; every second felt charged with unsaid words and unfulfilled desires.

She took a deep breath, preparing for what felt like another battle of wills. She might think she could shut me out entirely—maybe even convince herself she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore—but deep down? We both knew the truth.

As we stood there locked in this silent war of defiance and vulnerability, an undeniable connection hummed just beneath our skin. And even if she tried to walk away from it all once more, I would make sure she'd remember why she couldn’t.

I leanedback in my chair, watching Holly as she walked out of the meeting room after we finished. The tension in my chest tightened like a vice, squeezing the breath from my lungs. Each step she took felt like a deliberate challenge, a reminder that she was still fighting me, still trying to maintain some semblance of control.

Part of me wanted to leap up, grab her wrist, and pull her into the corner where I could remind her—physically—who she belonged to. The way she held herself, that stubborn set of her jaw, made my blood simmer. She could act all tough, play the part of someone unbothered by me, but deep down? I knew better. She felt it too; the pull between us was as undeniable as gravity.

But I stayed still, rooted to my chair. This was a longer game than before. I wasn’t the boy she had walked away from three years ago. That kid had been naïve and wounded—lost in his own chaos.

Now?

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