Page 10 of Nail Me Down

“Come on, Holly. Let me explain.”

“How am I being an asshole, Holl—”

“Don’t.” She stands strong against him. I can see what it takes in her to have finally found her courage again. But she’s there, holding her own. “Don’t touch me, Damon. Don’t even take one step toward me. Imagine my surprise when I called you last night—”

“You didn’t call me.”

“My phone is still broken. I used Ford’s phone.”

The color drains from Damon’s face, but he’s just enough of a dickhead to not appear remorseful. “I hope she was worth our friendship, Ford. Good for you.” He starts to clap. “You get my sloppy—”

WHAM!

There’s no thought. Just a fist plowed into his motherfucking face.

Holding his bleeding nose, Damon stumbles back. Before he can say anything more, I say, “You better hope your girlfriend doesn’t live in Lit Creek because I don’t want to see you around here anymore.”

“What are you going to do, Ford? Kill me?” He scoffs.

“I don’t actually know, Damon. But I don’t think either of us wants to find that out. I do know that my family owns a construction company and we pour a lot of concrete. Makes a great hiding place. So this better be the last time I see you. Ever.”

“Fuck you,” Damon mutters, now holding his shirt to his nose. But thankfully he leaves.

I turn to Holly, scared shitless of what I’m about to face. “Holly, I’m so sorry—”

“You should go, Ford.” Her arms are crossed over her chest but not in a cold gesture. It’s more like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I can’t leave you like this.”

“I want you to. I don’t…want to see you.”

“Right now?”

“I don’t know,” she says, dropping her chin. “Just go. Please.”

“Holly,” I’m about to drop to my knees, “please don’t make me go. Not like this. Let me explain.”

“Please go.”

She turns her back to me, and I know I’ve lost her.

Chapter 7

Holly

“It’s been a week, Holly.”

“I don’t need the reminder that seven days has passed since my life fell apart, Dakota.” We’re at Pie in the Sky bakery and Sierra is serving us her famous snickerdoodles. I wish I could enjoy them, but my tongue has lost all appreciation of taste. My nose, too. Thankfully my eyes are still functional, but even they didn’t fully appreciate the pink potted plant Ford left on my doorstep the day after our argument. They also didn’t appreciate the following six days of personalized gifts that included my favorite snacks, some romcom movies, and other cute things.

“I’m just sayin—”

“Just saying, what?” I turn on her, mouth full of snickerdoodle.

“Ford’s a good guy, Holly. All the Briggs boys are good. Well—most of them.”

“He threatened to—” I lower my voice “—kill the guy, Dakota.”

She just waves it off. “First of all, that’s hot. He was going to do it for you. Second of all, it’s Ford. He wouldn’t—I don’t think—go that far. And third, he’s obviously in love with you. Haven’t you been kind of into him too?”