Page 71 of Sticks & Serpents

Chapter21

Holly

Istood outside the tuxedo shop, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the pavement. The afternoon sun beat down, making the air thick and stifling. This was ridiculous.

The charity event loomed over us like a storm cloud, and both of us were required to be here—but here I was, alone.

I glanced at my phone again. No messages. No missed calls. Just silence, stretching out between us like an unbridgeable chasm.

Coward.

Damien was avoiding me. Running. Again. The familiar anger bubbled beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. I couldn't shake the feeling that he was hiding from something more than just our complicated history.

The scars…

I pushed off the wall, pacing back and forth in front of the shop's window, watching my reflection in the glass. My hair fell messily around my shoulders; my eyes burned with frustration. How could he do this? We had been through so much together, yet here he was—still playing games.

No more waiting.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the rising tide of emotions swirling inside me. I was done waiting for him to figure himself out; I wouldn’t let him dictate this any longer. The thrill of standing up to him—of confronting him head-on—was almost intoxicating.

With each passing second, my resolve hardened further. I’d spent too long caught in his whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and now it felt like he wanted to pull me back in without even giving me a choice.

I stumbled upon something I wasn’t supposed to see, and it gnawed at me like a festering wound. The scars. Had I been so consumed by what we had that I didn't notice? Could I really have been so negligent not to see? Or had it started after?

The thought made my stomach churn. I hated that I couldn’t remember when things had changed between us. One moment we were inseparable; the next, it felt like he’d vanished into thin air without a trace.

I hated it. Hated that I felt powerless, watching him run away while I remained tethered to the chaos he had left behind. The silence between us stretched endlessly; he wouldn’t talk to me, and I couldn't understand why he had to be this way.

Enough is enough.

Right then and there, I made a decision. I wouldn’t stand by any longer as a spectator in my own life, waiting for him to figure things out while I felt like an afterthought. Damien needed to hear me out whether he liked it or not.

I turned on my heel and marched away from the shop, determination pulsing through my veins. He could run all he wanted, but I was done playing his game of avoidance. No more lingering in the shadows of his decisions—I would find him and force him to confront what we both knew lay between us.

He was going to listen this time; no more hiding from me or himself. This would end today, one way or another.

I drovestraight to Damien’s place, summer rain misting over the streets, blurring the world around me. My hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles white as I navigated the familiar path.

He better be here.

The Sinclaire estate loomed ahead, dark and perfect against the stormy sky, an imposing structure that always felt more like a prison than a home. I’d been here before, but it never felt welcoming—not to me and certainly not to Damien.

Unless that was a lie too.

As I pulled into the driveway, my heart raced with each beat. I wanted to see him. I needed to confront him about everything—the chaos he brought into my life, his inability to face his demons head-on, and those scars that haunted my thoughts.

I barely got out of the car before spotting someone waiting for me on the steps. A woman, elegant and composed in a tailored suit that looked far too expensive for a rainy day like this. Her lips curled into an amused smirk as our eyes met.

Damien’s mother.

The air turned thick with tension as she stepped forward, her gaze piercing through me like an icy dagger. I felt a jolt of unease; she was everything I remembered—calculated and relentless in her pursuit of perfection.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension.

I swallowed hard, fighting back a rush of indignation that threatened to spill over. “Where’s Damien?”

Her smile widened slightly, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, he’s around somewhere.”

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