Alpha Billionaire Series
Coming Home Chapter 13

MAKENZIE

The shop was coming together slowly but surely. Another day, another case to unpack and populate the shelves. As the opening date of the shop loomed, it felt like very little progress was being made.

Ethan had finally finished putting together all of our furnishings. We were going with a bit of a different-than-expected look. This was not someone's grandmother's idea of an old quilt shop. We purposefully chose to not go with old country time style or even a more modern shabby chic style. We had taken a spin of mid-century modern crossed with heavy contemporary. Everything was stark white and chrome.

Personally, I thought it was perfect as it didn't distract from the kaleidoscope of fabrics on display. But half of our shelving units were still empty. We didn't have a cash register yet. Ethan still needed to assemble the long-arm quilting frame, and there were no sample quilts hanging on the walls. What was a quilt shop without quilts? Gloria had promised we would have plenty of sample quilts showing off the gorgeous fabrics we were going to sell and the fun quilt classes we were going to teach. Someone walked past the front window. I caught a glimpse of dark hair in my peripheral vision. With a startled gasp I turned to look. Adrenaline evaporated from my system as quickly as it had flooded it. My shoulders drooped as I saw that it wasn't Holden. "Get it together girl," I muttered.

It had been days since I had seen Holden. And I really wanted to see him again. Even if he hadn't seemed particularly happy to see me, I needed to see him. He looked good. There was obvious pain in his expression, but that was understandable since he was here to deal with his father's estate, plus recover from that horrible accident. He would always look good to me, even with a little extra wrinkling around his eyes or new furrows on his forehead.

As I unpacked a box of needles and other machine accessories, I twisted myself so that I could no longer see out the front window. If Holden walked by, he would have to step into the shop to get my attention. I needed to focus.

"The tablet came in!" Gloria announced as she walked in the door.

I turned to say something and knocked the box on the floor.

"That's fabulous." I followed the box down and began picking up the spilled packages of product.

We now had a way to create invoices and take credit cards. It was another step closer to being able to open the shop.

As I looked up to say something else, I caught sight of dark hair. This time it was Holden. A surge of excitement hit my nerves. I had to pretend to not be thrilled at the sight of him. I was so proud of myself that I didn't run out the door and grab him into a fierce hug. The last time I had seen him, I had been too shocked to know how to act. This time I had to consciously stop myself from acting like a fool.

As I watched him move, I noticed something wasn't right. I slowly stood and crossed the store, stopping at the door. I looked through the window as he continued down the sidewalk. He walked with a pronounced limp, and his shoulders lifted as if he were wincing with pain. As he walked, he tugged the sleeve on the left arm of his shirt down, as if he were trying to cover something.

What had happened to him?

All I knew was that he had been in an accident. His injuries weren't combat-related, but he had still gotten them on the job. I guessed accidents happened even in the military. I sighed. I didn't want him in pain or struggling.

I kept biting my lower lip. He seemed fine the other day. But it made sense for him not to be. He had to have been so badly injured to have been wrapped up the way he had been at his father's funeral. Both his arm and leg had been in thick casts that looked more like bandages.

"What's going on? Is something happening outside?" Gloria asked.

I shook my head. "No, I thought I saw something. Must have been a reflection of a car going by."

But I hovered at the door, watching. Holden moved with slow, precise actions. He didn't look particularly stable. Was he hurt?

A shout from behind had his head swiveling, and then his shoulders followed.

"Watch out man!" A bicyclist rode past, and suddenly Holden was down.

I ran.

"Fucking tourist!" he yelled.

I would have yelled the same. Locals knew better than to ride their bikes on the sidewalk.

I couldn't tell if he was hurt. He was on his hip, his legs under him.

"Holden, are you alright?"

I reached for him, too eager to help in my panic. I put my hand on his arm.

"Let me help you."

He brushed me away. "Get off me."

With a grunt, he pushed off the ground and got his knees under him. He took a long moment holding his position, hands and knees on the ground, panting.

"How can I help? Should I call an ambulance?"

He shook his head. "I fell, it's not an emergency. If you want to call someone, call the cops and report that idiot on the bike."

I got the distinct impression that my presence wasn't helping, even though that's all I wanted to do.

Holden hissed in and shifted so that he had one foot on the ground. His hands braced against that knee. He took several heavy deep breaths, and then held one and with effort and a groan, pushed himself upright. Once on his feet, he wobbled. He clamped a hand on my shoulder. I braced my knees to take his weight and put my hands on his waist to steady him.

He didn't use me as support for long. We stood there on the sidewalk holding onto each other for stability.

When he let go of me, I noticed his sleeve had gotten pushed up. I saw an angry red scar running down the length of exposed arm, stopping at his wrist. What other scars was he hiding? His face was red from exertion and sweat dotted his brow. His mouth was pinched tight as if he was holding something in. His khakis had a tear at the knee, and I was fairly certain I saw blood. He wasn't in good shape.

"Come inside Holden, you can sit and rest for a bit. Let me help you get cleaned up."

"I don't need to rest. I've got this." He bit the words out.

"But you're-"

"I'm fine," he cut me off. "I don't need your help, and I sure as hell don't need your pity."

I stepped back as if he had pointed a flamethrower at me. Blinking hard with confusion, I stared at him. "Holden?"

He glowered at me. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. Coming out here to help him had been the wrong choice.

"Where were you when I actually needed you? I don't need you running to my side, Makenzie. Not now, not ever."

"You are making no sense. You wanted me to wait and see if you were seriously hurt?"

"You didn't wait for me. So, I don't need your help now, okay? Maybe you should listen to your big brother and stay away from me."

I backed away from his verbal attack. I wanted to say something, but words lodged in my throat. I didn't understand what Travis had to do with any of it.

"Go away, Makenzie. Pretend you don't even know me if you see me again."

With stiff movements, he started walking away from me. I was stunned in place. What had just happened? I had run outside to help him up, but it felt like he was reacting to something else.

Was he angry that I had stopped writing him letters all those years ago? That didn't seem particularly fair since he had never bothered to write to me.

It was clear he was no longer the man I had been in love with, but I didn't see why after all this time we couldn't at least be civil to each other.

I threw my hands up. Fine, he didn't need me. I had made it this far without him, I could keep going on as we were.

I stormed back into the shop. He could fall down on the sidewalk again for all I cared. I wouldn't be there to scrape him up next time. I rushed to the bathroom in the back and slammed the door. I wasn't ready to tell Gloria what had happened, and I knew she would have questions. Hell, I had questions.