Alessa was like the sun after a bad storm. I knew she carried her demons. They all did, but she kept mine at bay. The nightmares would still creep up when I least expected them, but they got further and farther between until I could finally sleep all night long without waking up in cold sweats and screaming. I tried not to think about what happened when I was with those guys, but sometimes my mind would conjure up a memory that almost made me run for the fucking hills.
These guys took me in like it wasn’t even a question. They accepted that I needed help and did just that. I would never be able to repay them for what they’ve done for me, so I work my ass off on whatever they need.
Les’ security measures were outdated whenever I moved in, so I spent the first few months making sure they were locked up tighter than Fort Knox. Nothing was getting by them without me knowing. After that, she started giving me jobs, but nothing to overwhelm me or make me uncomfortable.
Knowing I’m stalling, I make my way slowly to the garage. I can’t help the fear that settles into my stomach that I have done something wrong, and she is about to take me out of this world.
Chapter 9
Alessa
Idon’t know what possessed me to ask Holden to go with me today, but it just felt right after what Gage said to me. I need something to break him out of his shell and make him more comfortable around me. Not the guy who is currently as close to the passenger side door of my BMW as he can get.
I’m taking him to one of my favorite places with a motive.
Pulling out of the garage, I take the back exit from the estate we use so paparazzi don’t spot us. Micah talked my dad into installing it when people started noticing us and would sit at the end of the driveway waiting for us to leave.
It’s about a forty-five-minute drive to where we’re going and on a rural road on the outskirts of Abbs Valley, where we live, so it gives me time to think. Holden doesn’t require constant conversation; he doesn’t require any at all. He is content to stare out the window.
My conversation with Gage is a constant buzz in my head. He made me admit what I wanted, even if it was just to myself. Now that Ryder and I have swerved past the line of friendship, he acts differently. Jealous. I feel like our friendship is crumbling at its very foundation. I knew he had girls throughout his life, and he knew I had guys, but he never acted jealous of them until Leo.
Leo is a different problem within itself. I still haven’t worked upthe nerve to talk to him, just a few words in passing. I know I need to clear the air, at least for my own sake, but I’ve never been in this situation before. I sleep with guys. I don’t date them. Now I have Leo, Ryder, and Gage vying for my attention, although Gage is the easiest of the three. It was easy as breathing when he kissed me in my office. I didn’t feel like we were risking our friendship as I did with Ryder. Not because I’m not as close to Gage but because Gage is easier to read than Ryder. Ryder hides his emotions the same way I do, with a carefully placed mask. I’m finding it harder and harder to hide mine. I feel like I’m losing control.
Growing up with Ryder, he was everything to me, and I was everything to him. He was my protector, my date for dances, my shoulder to cry on, my video game buddy, and the one who used to scare the guys away in school. I was his cheerleader at football games, his voice of reason, the one who didn’t take his shit, and the one girls were intimidated by because of my relationship with him. Now I feel like we are losing everything we built. People end up dating their best friends all the time. Could Ryder and I pull that off? I don’t think we can when I’m still entertaining the idea of dating the other guys. Am I thinking about dating them? At this point, I have no fucking idea.
I take a right off the main road onto a long dirt road, and Holden finally looks up, staring out of the windshield. We travel the two miles before the wrought-iron gate finally comes into view, with my name hanging from the top. I enter the code, and the gate swings open, allowing us to enter. No sooner than I pull up in front of the cute ranch house, the woman who runs the ranch walks out, a huge smile on her weathered face.
“Alessa!” she crows as I step out of the car in her thick Italian accent, clasping my cheeks in her hands and kissing both sides.
“Hey, Marcella,” I greet with a smile. It’s been too long since I came out here.
Dad bought this farm from Marcella when her husband died, and she was about to lose it. Then he told her she could stay there and run it. When he died, I never changed much; this one was one of them.
“It’s been too long,” she chastises and then casts a glance at Holden, standing beside the car. “Who is this lovely young man?”
“Marcella, this is Holden.” She raises an eyebrow as if asking if he is my boyfriend, and I shake my head.
“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Holden mumbles with a polite nod.
She prances over to him. “None of this ma’am nonsense. Call me Marcella.” She kisses him the same way she kissed me. He returns the gesture with a shy smile, making my heart melt.
“I’ll get Vincenzo to take you up,” she offers, referring to my secret place.
“That’s fine. We can walk it.”
“It is such a lovely day. Come in when you get back. I made cupcakes.” She spins on her heel, her loose colorful skirt swishing behind her, and heads back into the house.
Marcella is sixty years old and still looks like she’s in her forties. The only things that give her away are the laugh lines that line her eyes and around her mouth, and her long black hair is streaked in grey. She lives here with her two sons, Vincenzo and Giovanni, with other ranch hands milling around. Marcella knows who we are but treats us like long-lost family.
“Come on,” I beckon Holden with a smile and head to the back of the house.
We head through the back gate and down the little trail leading to where I want to go. We are silent on the walk, with it only being about a two-mile hike, and it still takes my breath away when we finally break through the trees.
It’s a meadow that overlooks the field below, where you can watch the horses, goats, and cows graze. The bench my dad had built still stands in the little gazebo. The meadow is in full bloom with flowers I can’t name, some wild, some Marcella planted and tended to.
“This reminds me of home,” Holden says with wonder.
I lead him over to the bench, both of us breathing in the fresh air. “Texas?” I ask.
