A tinge of guilt went through me. I never did contact them. If I called, Mum would talk for hours. All the small gossip that didn't interest me. Who'd gotten married, who'd had babies. I had zero interest in that kind of thing. I couldn't even remember half the people she talked about.
Oh. My. God. She had the radio on. They were playing that song. I reached over and switched it off.
"That was Holden King, you know. Did you know he's doing well with that band of his? I always said he wasn't like the rest of his no-good family."
I opened my mouth to remind her that she'd actually always said the exact opposite. Amazing how a bit of fame changed a person's history. Then I shut up. I didn't want to get into an argument within five minutes of arriving home and if Mum wanted to believe that, she could.
Mum chatted in the car all the way home, so I didn't need to think. Just an occasional "yeah" was enough. I could barely keep my eyes open.
Now that I was home, I had no idea what I'd do. I showered and crawled into bed, wanting the oblivion of sleep, but the image of Holden kept floating back to me. I had a wealth of anger to hold onto but, in my dreams, it was like we'd been at first. All wrapped up in each other and believing that nothing would ever come between us.
It didn't help that my room held the scent of those days. That cheap body spray I'd douse myself in, that smell would probably never leave. Added to that, Mum was cooking. Making a roast, to celebrate my homecoming. That was something I'd missed. I couldn't even remember the last time I’d had a proper meal. Lying in bed, trying to sleep, it really did feel like I'd slipped back into my teenage years.
On the shelf on the opposite wall, a row of stuffed toys watched over me. Mum must've got them out of storage and put them up there. The teddy with the chewed off ear and the blue dog that was missing an eye. Old tat but I was glad she hadn't thrown them out. Some of my old dresses still hung in the wardrobe too and a few boxes were stacked in the corner.
He'd said I'd been to blame too. That made me so angry. Sure, I'd not been the best girlfriend to him but I'd never looked at another man. Hell, we'd been so young, so naive. Running to the city, thinking Holden would get his big break and life would be roses. The stupid thing was, that it did happen. We went from living in a room with a shared bathroom and a broken bed, to him being signed to his label in the blink of an eye. At the time, it’d seemed like we'd be in that room forever but it'd barely been months. While it'd been squalid and freezing cold, we'd had each other. Holden had a part-time job handing out fliers for a night club and I did some bar work. He got together his band and started playing.
It didn't take long for them to build up a buzz and then the groupies started hanging around.
A lump formed in my throat even thinking about that.
Growing up, I'd been a freak. People laughed at me but I didn't give a shit. I knew I was about a hundred times cooler than anyone else. I'd much preferred being laughed at than looking like any of them. That wasn't hard when everyone else dressed like they were going to milk the cows. I had the Goth girl makeup and short punk plaid skirts, and I’d liked how I looked.
But all that changed when we hit the city.
Even before Holden noticed the girls around him, I did. I noticed the way they dressed and the way they moved. I compared myself to them and I always came up wanting.
It made me want to go back in time and find young Carlie and tell her to settle the fuck down. It was just hair and makeup and fancy clothes. That didn't make you any better or worse than anyone else. Back then, I'd felt like a country bumpkin. Nothing I owned looked right. I hacked off all my hair, thinking that would make me cooler, then instantly regretted it. I didn't have the money to spend on fancy hairdressers or new clothes or even a new lipstick.
All that insecurity, plus going out drinking far too much, turned me into a raging bitch. I'd go nuts any time Holden so much as looked at another woman. I'd strike out at him or at the woman. Then I'd go home and cry.
I'd been a bitch, that's for sure. It still didn't excuse what he'd done and I couldn’t forgive that. I'd never get to sleep with all the recriminations running through my head on repeat. I jumped out of bed and put that plastic ring back on my finger. I don’t know why I even did that but I felt better when I wore it.
Chapter 25
"SHOULD WE TELL HER?" I heard Mum say from the kitchen.
I'd been home three days and had barely come out of my room. I knew I should sort my life out but all I wanted to do was sleep. When I was asleep, I didn't have to think about anything.
"She's sure to find out if she goes anywhere in town, so it's probably best coming from us. It's not like she's had anything to do with the boy for years anyway," Dad answered.
That made me sit up. When he said "the boy", he obviously meant Holden. Had something happened to Holden? An icy finger of fear struck my heart. No, nothing could happen to Holden. It couldn't. Holden was my constant. Even if I never saw him again, I had to know that he was safe out there in the world somewhere.
I jumped out of bed, needing to know, even if it was the worst. My legs shook and my heart pounded.
"Hey, honey, you want some eggs? I was just making some for your dad. Good to see you up early."
Mum smiled at Dad in that way she had, like I didn't know she'd been bitching about me sleeping so much. Like I gave a damn about eggs or sleeping. I sat down in case the news was bad.
"What's happened to Holden?" I gasped the words out, not sure if I really did want to know.
Dad grew seri
ous for a moment. He grabbed my hand.
"There's been an accident —"
That was it. The thing I'd been dreading. That icy hand squeezed my heart tight. The pain in my chest became unbearable.