Page 77 of Sticks & Serpents

I gritted my teeth, focusing on the road ahead but struggling against the suffocating weight of doubt clawing at my sanity. The last thing I wanted was to push her away, but I couldn't fathom letting her in. Because then she'd see me for what I was: weak. Pathetic. A monster. If she knew what my mother did to me…

I couldn't fucking breathe at the thought.

And yet here I was—driving into oblivion while all I really wanted was her by my side.

My phone vibrated against the console, a jarring reminder that I wasn't as alone as I felt. I glanced down, and my heart lurched at the name lighting up the screen: Holly. Again.

Fingers hovered over the screen, a battle raging inside me. I could answer. I could go to her, wrap her up in my arms and tell her everything would be fine. I could let her in like I had before—the way she deserved.

But then my mother’s words echoed through my mind, cold and cutting:She doesn’t belong in your world anymore.

The heat of anger surged through me, clashing with the tightness coiling around my chest. My jaw locked as the truth clawed at me. How many times had I tried to escape this cage? How many times had I been pulled back into its grasp?

I stared at the screen, watching the call ring on. Each vibration felt like a push and pull between desire and fear. She wanted to talk—needed to talk—but what could I say? What good would it do for me to drag her deeper into my chaos?

I took a deep breath, feeling suffocated by memories that wrapped around me like chains. The moments we shared haunted me—the laughter, the tenderness, all twisted together with shadows of pain that threatened to consume us both.

Finally, I let it ring out until silence fell like a shroud around me. The call went to voicemail, leaving only my racing thoughts behind.

A part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind, dial her back immediately, and remind her of everything we had fought for together. But another part—the part fueled by self-loathing and resentment—whispered that maybe she was right not to want me anymore.

You’re broken.

The thought lingered longer than it should have, gnawing at my insides like an insatiable beast demanding attention.

I turned away from the road ahead, driving aimlessly into nothingness while wrestling with demons that wouldn’t let go.

Chapter23

Holly

Iforced a polite smile as I sat across from the two sponsors for the charity event. The sleek conference table glimmered under the fluorescent lights, reflecting the tension in my chest.

It’s just business, I reminded myself, my fingers drumming lightly on the notepad in front of me.Just planning. Everything is fine.

“Now, Ms. Walker,” one of them said, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and an overly enthusiastic demeanor, “we need to finalize the player assignments. The spotlight needs to shine on our star players, especially Damien Sinclaire. I mean, his father is a legend, and Hades Sinclaire is looking to be the new bad boy of the NHL.”

I nodded, jotting down notes that felt more like empty gestures than anything meaningful. My mind kept drifting back to last night—the rain, Damien’s lips against mine, and how quickly he’d left me standing there in confusion. It was like being thrown into a storm without an umbrella.

“Do you think we can get him to agree to a press photo?” The woman beside him asked, her tone all business as she leaned forward slightly.

“Yes,” I replied automatically, though the thought of Damien made my stomach twist. He wouldn’t want anything to do with this; he never did. Yet here I was, caught between wanting him near and wishing I could escape his pull altogether.

Their voices blurred into the background as I maintained my posture straight, forcing myself to appear composed. I was supposed to be focused on them—on this event—but all I could think about was how little sleep I'd gotten since he’d walked out of my life again.

They continued discussing logistics, but their words faded away as I fought against the memories flooding my mind—his touch igniting something deep within me and then vanishing like smoke in the wind when reality set back in.

The sponsors didn’t need to know that behind my polite smile was a storm of emotions—a whirlwind of confusion and desire battling against guilt and uncertainty.

“Holly?” The woman’s voice cut through my thoughts sharply.

I blinked back into focus, catching her gaze with forced enthusiasm. “Absolutely,” I replied with another nod that felt robotic. “I’ll reach out to Damien right away.”

I forced another smile, though it felt like a mask slipping further down my face. Mrs. Talbot leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with excitement that only made me feel more trapped in this moment.

“We’ll need all the committee members present for the donor’s dinner coming up this weekend,” she said, tapping a pen against her notebook. “It’s crucial for our sponsorships.”

I nodded again, even as my heart sank. I had known this was coming, but I had hoped to avoid thinking about it just yet. My mind raced through all the details: the location, the donors, and most importantly—Damien.

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