Page 39 of His Secret Santa

“Don’t know,” Troy said. “He ran off like a little queer chicken.” The group snorted and laughed.

Oh, God.

“Come on,” Jamie mumbled and ushered Abby through the door. “We have to find him.”

Outside, Jamie called Holden’s cell. No answer.

“Dammit.” He hurried to his car, Abby by his side. “If those assholes did something to him…” Jamie’s fury mixed with his fear. Inside the car, he tried calling again. Still nothing. “We’ll go by his house first, see if his car is there.”

It was a long shot. If Holden were upset, he wouldn’t go home. There was no comfort to be found in his house.

As expected, his car wasn’t parked in his driveway. Jamie didn’t bother going inside and asking his parents if they’d heard from him. They hadn’t.

“Where to now?” Abby asked with concern.

“The park, maybe.” Jamie drove around the block. “He goes there a lot when he doesn’t want to go home.”

Abby murmured, “Why didn’t he tell you if he was going to the party? Why would he go alone?”

“I don’t know,” Jamie whispered. “I can’t even wrap my mind around why he would even be there. Not after Lincoln himself told him not to come. It doesn’t make any sense.”

Abby sighed, deep worry pinching her brow. “Why wouldn’t he call you… afterward? I mean, if they did something to him… why didn’t he call you?”

Jamie didn’t know the answer to that one, either. Unless…

They humiliated him.

If that was the case—and of course, that was the case with those assholes—Holden wouldn’t want to see anyone. He would go off alone, feeling ashamed for what someone else did to him. How fucked up was that? Holden had nothing to be ashamed of. Those fuckers should be feeling shame.

God, Holden… why the hell did you go to that party?

Chapter 11

Holden sat on the picnic table in the middle of the park, unmindful of the bitter chill pressing through his clothes and into his skin. So, what if he froze to death? Who would notice or give a damn? Other than Jamie.

His head sank into his hands, and he closed his eyes as warm tears continued to slip from beneath his lashes and trickle down his cold cheeks. Since he fled the party, he’d been struggling to make sense of everything. But nothing fit. How could Lincoln…

The sound of a car interrupted his thoughts. He didn’t look up. He didn’t need to. Holden knew the sound of Jamie’s car. If he was cruising the park, then he was looking for Holden. But why? How would he know something was wrong? Because you didn’t answer his calls. Of course, Jamie would come looking for him because Holden always answered his calls.

His friend would press him to share, but Holden didn’t want to talk… not about this. He wanted to run away before Jamie spotted him, but it was too late as his friend parked at the curb behind Holden’s car. Jamie and Abby climbed out. He’d forgotten Jamie was with Abby tonight.

I can’t talk to them. Holden stepped off the table and started walking in the opposite direction, chilled hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Holden!” Jamie called. “Wait!” His footsteps crunched the frozen grass as he broke into a jog.

Holden didn’t slow down but rather walked faster.

“Hey.” Jamie caught up and fell in beside him. “Talk to me.” When Holden kept walking, Jamie grabbed his arm, halting him. “Come on, it’s me. You know you can talk to me.”

Holden stared at the ground and shook his head, fresh tears welling.

Jamie shifted and his voice softened. “I know you went to the party,” he murmured. “McKenna and her group came into the pizza parlor. They told us.”

Holden slowly raised watery eyes. “Told you what?” he rasped.

“That you were at Lincoln’s house and…” He faltered. “… and that you ruined the birthday party.”

Holden’s throat worked, eyes filling. “I ruined it.” He sniffed, chin trembling. “Yeah,” he whispered bitterly. “That’s what happened.”

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