The Oath We Give (Hollow Boys, #5)

by Monty Jay

It’s the little things I’ve lost along the way in healing. Dropping pieces of her laugh, leaving them behind. Forgetting the smell of her perfume, losing the sound of her voice in my ear. It doesn’t hurt, and sometimes I wish it did. With pain comes remembrance. The throb and ache of loss is a constant reminder of the person who no longer exists. When you hurt, you remember everything so clearly because the pain forces you to.

When Rosie and I were in middle school, we’d sit back-to-back and look up. I’d listen while she made up stories about all the bunnies in the clouds. It’s often forgotten that we weren’t just in a relationship. When she died, I lost my friend.

Rose and I, we experienced a life-altering trauma that no one but us believed. We had faith in each other’s words because we’d gone through it together. That event had bonded us. So here, when I come to visit now, I tell her about the good. I talk about Alistair getting married, knowing it would send her over the fucking moon to know the angry man she’d called the “big brother” had finally let someone love him. Even though he’d hate it, I tell her about Thatcher, about Lyra, who I think she would be best friends with. I make sure she knows I’m looking out for Sage, even though Rook is doing a pretty good job all on his own. I let her know we are okay, that regardless of the blackmail hanging over our heads, the possibility of us going to jail if it’s released, we are alright. That we did okay without her.

I spill out my guts to a tombstone that has no choice but to listen, and I hope the girl I once knew hears me.

Coraline is what? Stubborn. Strong-willed. Too fucking hardheaded. A girl I have a strong desire to kiss every time she’s in the room? In the silence of this graveyard, I let myself smirk as I shake my head a little. “Coraline is…Coraline. I don’t know a lot about her other than she’s an artist, and Rook likes her, which isn’t surprising—he’s a fan of anyone who gives Thatcher shit.” Did I want to shoot Thatch in the foot for how he talked to her? I had the urge, yes. Did I also enjoy watching her chew him up and spit him out all on her own? Absolutely. She puts on a brave face, but she’s one moment away from shattering to pieces. When we are alone, I see it. I feel it.

Coraline makes me want to talk. Break myself open just so I can have her. Tug on the strings that she has wound so tightly around herself so I can see what’s underneath as she unravels for me. There is something in the way she moves, how she talks so brazenly with an underlying fierceness in every word, the way her eyes catch the light and melt like honey when she looks at me.

We’re about to be bound for at least two years, and she can’t resist me that long. Especially if I apply a little pressure. I’ve barely tried. She’s going to break for me. I’m not afraid of a curse, especially when they look like Coraline Whittaker.

OH MY GODDDD

I hope to fucking God Silas doesn’t want to have an actual wedding because I don’t want these people seeing that. Maybe that should have been something I mentioned when I was laying out my rules. I blame it on the fact I got distracted by his arms in that shirt. Sex brain ruins everything.

😭

For years, I had been told the Hollow Boys were villains. That their reign of terror had tainted this well-respected town known to house the nation’s most prestigious university. But you can’t corrupt something that is already rotten to begin with. They were just scapegoats.

“Regina, I put up with you for Lilac’s sake.” I step closer to her, hands tightening into small fists. “I play nice. I listen to your never-ending bitching and whining.” I watch her shrink a little into my father’s arms, but that doesn’t stop her mouth from trying to run. “How dare you speak to me⁠—” “But if you say another word about Silas, if you think a negative thought about him, I’ll make sure you’re out on your ass with nothing but your sparkling personality when I take my piece of Elite.” I sneer down at her as I lean forward. “Poor has a smell, and you won’t like when I leave you covered in it.”

“Do I look like I’m for sale?” I arch an eyebrow, crossing my arms in front of my chest to create some distance between us. He scoffs, air puffing his lips. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a soft laugh, but I do, in fact, know better. Silas slowly lifts his pointer finger and slides a strand of white hair from the front of my face, his golden ring glinting in the light. “You can’t put a price on you,” he whispers huskily, leaning closer, his chest touching my arms. “Men would still pay millions, but that has nothing to do with your looks.” My stomach flips, heat rushing to my cheeks, but I scoff to cover up the effect his words have on me.

“Speaking of your fiancée,” Rook says. “What’s up with that?” I turn toward him a little, arching an eyebrow. He moves his feet from the desk, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “Does she know about your schizophrenia?” Do you? I want to ask. This guy has been my best friend for years. He forced me to eat when all I wanted to do was wither away. Stood by me while I was bitter, celebrated when I healed. There’s never been a moment, good or bad, without Rook Van Doren in it. Yet, he still doesn’t know me. Not entirely, not fully, not the way I know him.

All we found out was that Wayne Caldwell is, in fact, footing the bill for his mistress and her only son. I know Alistair says it doesn’t bother him, schools his features and moves forward. But I know him. I know the young boy in him who never got the childhood he deserves from his father is hurt. Which is exactly why when I went to pick him up today, Briar was in a foul mood, and he was beating up a punching bag. The wounds a parent leaves on their child never go away. They only grow with them into adulthood.

Rook snorts, a smirk adorning his lips. “I’m sure that has nothing to do with your primal/prey kink the two of you are into.” “Fuck off, Van Doren. You branded Sage’s ass. With a lighter.” Alistair lifts his middle finger in his direction, but Rook’s response is simply to stick out his tongue and wink like a child. “Plus, it wasn’t Briar’s idea. It was Lyra’s.” Thatcher chuckles under his breath, a rare sound that only comes out when his girlfriend is around or mentioned. He presses his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, shaking his head. Lyra is sneaky, going to the girls knowing Thatch would say no. Not because he doesn’t want to play but because with everything going on, his main priority is protecting Ponderosa Springs’s favorite bug queen.

We are creatures of the night always, bleeding chaos and untamable. No matter where we went or how far apart we drifted, we would remain forever at the mercy of the darkness.

Getting stuck in that elevator with her was only further confirmation of something I already knew in the marrow of my bones. A thought I’d tamped down and tried to deny since the moment I walked out of her hospital room two years ago. I want Coraline Whittaker. That ominous and painful thing inside of her that scratches and bites? The one that scares her? I want it to leave marks on me. It screams for me when she lets me in close, begging me to run my tongue along every square inch of her taut skin. Her futile attempts to put distance between us only feed my hunger. Coraline wants me to fear her, as if that lovely, dark thing inside of her is something to run from. She’s the only one who can’t see that it’s a siren’s call. It’s not her looks that pull men to the depths of her sea, drowning themselves for a chance to touch her. It’s the aura of mystery that shrouds around her every move. That untouchable, intangible force buried in her bones. She can fight it if she likes. It won’t change anything. Whatever she dishes out, I’ll swallow whole.

Getting used to seeing Sage Donahue was one of my hardest challenges after I got out of the ward. She’s the twin of my dead ex-girlfriend. For the longest time, all I ever saw when I looked at her was Rosemary, but time had been a secret blessing. I no longer flinch when she comes around or avoid looking at her. All of their differences in appearance started to become more clear, like the color of their eyes and hair, the shape of their noses. She’s snarky and sometimes overdramatic, while Rose was more relaxed.. She slowly became just Sage, no longer a mirror image of the love I’d lost. It brought me peace that a part of Rose, no matter how small, got to live on in her happiness. I know it would make her sister happy to see her becoming the person she’d always thought her twin could be.

This town tells me I’m dead. For a while, a part of me was. Coraline Whittaker has awoken something in me. Desire, longing, need. An ache I’ve never felt for anyone before. I don’t need her to love me. It isn’t about love. I need her to be mine.

“You guys have thirty minutes to find us,” Briar says, continuing the rules, “and you can’t help each other. You gotta hunt all alone, boys.”

I let my hand skim my stomach, legs outstretched as my eyes close. In the dark of this classroom, I let my mind wander, let it think about Silas peering down at me, watching me. How his eyes would drink me in, like they did when I got out of my car tonight. “Do you taste sweet, Coraline? If I was a betting man, I’d say yes,” he whispers, a wicked promise in the back of his throat. “You’re going to drip like honey on my tongue, aren’t you?”

“Tell me where you are, pretty thing.”

OHMYGODSILASHAWTHORNE

“I wish you could see yourself the way I do. The way others see you. You’re not this cold bitch, Coraline. No matter what the world tries to tell you.” Her fingers push the pin into the top of my bun, effectively keeping the strands in place. “You’re kind, and your heart was made to give. You’re fiercely protective, more afraid of hurting others than you ever are of wounding yourself. You are allowed to let love in, Cora. I’m not telling you to fall for him. I’m just asking if the opportunity presents itself, remain open to the possibility. I’m asking you to take a chance at being happy. Seeing you so sad is killing me.”

The silk sweeps down, a pool of fabric that flows around her feet when she finally reaches me. There’s a tight smile on her lips as she picks up the dress at her waist, waving it around. “Too much?” Her eyes glimmer in the sunlight, like molten gold. Melted honey in coffee. My fucking favorite. They have warmth that could melt away worry and a sharpness that could cut through bullshit. The eyes never lie. She is both gentle and fierce. Honey and chestnut. Cold and hot. A little enigma. “Perfect.”

I want her to see me so she can hear these words and know they’ve never been spoken aloud to anyone but her. That these parts of me? No one else has. No one knows. “I’m moments from letting the guilt of what I’ve done eat me alive. I can’t sleep at night because I know the reason Stephen is trying to destroy my friends is because of me. All I think about, all I dream about, is sending a bullet through his skull and ending this forever.” I let her see me, unmoving. I let her know that I’m not running away from this, from her. I’m in this with her. I’m putting my trust in her, too. “I’m seconds away from kissing your fucking mouth because you look this beautiful and still feel the need to ask me if I’m sure about marrying you.” My voice is a whisper in the back of my throat. Coraline’s features soften as my thumb traces her bottom lip. The world had scared her beyond recognition, wounded and beaten her soul. Yet, she stands here, scared she’ll hurt me. Despite everything we’ve both been through, I need her to know I’m in this. Whatever comes next, regardless of what I mean to her, she will always have someone she can count on. More than a voice. More than a phone number. She will always have me.

“Silas, I promise to be your peace when the world provides only war. To be your secret keeper and safe haven. Today, I vow to be the one person who accepts you for who you are and who you will become.” She glances up at me, holding my gaze as she speaks the last line. “Till death do us part.”

“On this day, I vow to make your rage my own, to weather the storm of your revenge and keep you forever safe. I promise to stand by you. No matter what comes, you will never be alone. Till death do us part.”

“Do you have rings to exchange?” Panic flares across Coraline’s face, but the corner of my mouth pulls up. I may not have planned for vows, but I did for this. I reach into my pocket, retrieving both rings. I hand her mine, a simple gold band with an engraving along the inside that says #dd4a3d. My little secret, considering she doesn’t notice it as she slips it onto my finger. Slowly, I return the favor, sliding the round solitaire diamond with a matching gold band down her finger. It’s not flashy or obnoxiously big; it’s a thing of stealthy beauty, mirroring the woman wearing it.

“Nothing I can ever give you will resemble love, Silas.” “Then I’ll pretend.”

I dip in and steal my first taste of the Witch of Ponderosa Springs. The Cursed One. For once, this town might’ve gotten something close to right. Her mouth is a spell.

“You ever get scared, Si?” “All the time,” I tell him honestly. “Me too.” He swallows tightly. “I’m always scared. Just waiting for the phone call that he’s gone. Every time my phone rings, I fucking panic. What are we going to do when he’s not here?” Tears line the corners of his eyes, and I wish I could take his pain away. Wish there was a way to make this better, but nothing I say can do that. “We’ll live, we’ll remember him, and we’ll be happy because that’s what he wants for us. All he’s ever wanted. It won’t be easy, and there will be days you struggle more than others, but learning to love the memory of someone you’ve lost helps. It just takes time.” It’s what helped me mourn Rosemary, what will help me mourn my father when he passes. Learning to love the memory, who they were on this Earth instead of focusing on them not being here. Grief is not an uphill battle. It’s a process that has dips and turns.

Coraline has to bite down on her lower lip to keep from grinning, and I find myself unreasonably angry at her teeth for gatekeeping it, hiding away one of the rare and beautiful things she does. I like her smile. I like her laugh. I like her.

“You don’t care I’m schizophrenic?” “I care that you get the support and medical care you need.” She shakes her head, reaching down and tearing off a piece of Levi’s half-eaten muffin, speaking around the treat. “I am not completely heartless. But no, I don’t care. It’s a mental illness, not the plague.” Her voice is like a breeze of honesty blowing away all the fake sympathy and advice I’d heard over the years. I feel her eyes on me, studying me like I’ve been doing with her. “Thanks.” “Don’t.” Coraline lets out a scoff, frowning. “Don’t thank me. It’s the bare minimum. It irritates me that you feel the need to thank someone for treating you like a human being.” How this woman thinks she’s cruel is beyond me.

I peer down at Coraline, wrapping a protective arm around her waist, silently letting her know she can fall into me if she needs it. Hesitantly, she places a hand on my bare chest, blinking up at me. “Ready, wife?” “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You’re stubborn. You don’t want to hear it, but I know what you’re doing. I can see it in your eyes, all that pain just festering beneath the surface. You cannot keep it in forever, Coraline. It’ll kill you.” “You don’t know shit about my pain, Hawthorne.” My words are laced with poison, with intent to wound, to force him the fuck out of this room. I don’t care if it hurt his feelings. I don’t care if he hates me. I just want him far away from my path of destruction before I take all the good in Silas and swallow it whole. I point my finger at him, eyes burning with rage. “Your girlfriend died. Cry about it. My orbital socket was shattered because I didn’t open my mouth for his dick fast enough. Our stories are not the same.” I want to be alone with my fury, hidden away so I can ache in peace. I don’t want someone here to watch me fall apart. The entire world watched me lose my mind on national television. I was the story of the century, millions of eyes seeing me erupt into shards of tiny glass only to make it worse by feeling sorry for me. So, I cut them. I let them step all over me with their bare feet, and I burrowed myself into their heels like tiny razor blades. I want to break. I want to cry and throw things all on my own with no eyes on me, in a silence where the only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat. “My best friend spent his entire life swallowing his pain like rusty nails just to turn it into a weapon. I watched it eat him alive, and now I’m watching him in...

I wonder if Stephen Sinclair warned him who he’d face when he got caught. The fate he would meet at the end of my gun if I found out he was the one who fucked with my friends. My wife. He was brave, at first. They all are. It’s why breaking them is so much fucking fun.

I want to be patient and save all of my rage for the man who truly deserves it. When I finally got my hands on Stephen Sinclair, I would make him beg me to kill him, choking on his own blood. I’d make him beg me for the mercy of death. He would regret every ounce of pain he inflicted on Coraline Whittaker.

“Use your words, pretty girl. Talk to me.”

This is my Garden of Eden, and I’ll sin every time if it looks like her.

im actually going insane

“You’re my wife, Coraline Hawthorne. If I want to cover myself in the blood of a thousand more men to protect you, I will,” I tell her. “They cannot hurt you without having to answer to me.”

Silas Hawthorne has a slutty fucking waist.

There is nothing she loves more than people listening to her current theories and fixations. It’s her love language.

me fr

“Are you doing this because I’m married to your boyfriend’s best friend?” I ask, looking at each of their faces, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “If we are just civil by association, that’s fine. Or is it pity? Because of what happened to me? I just, I need to know why you’re trying so hard to be nice to me.” Briar tilts her head. “Why are you so skeptical?” I admire the bluntness of her question, even though I’m sure she wanted to say, why are you such a bitch. It’s not like I want to be this way. Guarded and mistrusting. But it’s hard when person after person lets you down. I want to believe their intentions are good, but I can’t help but feel suspicious.

“You’re a part of the Loner Society now,” Lyra says. “The forgotten ones. Those who never fit into the hierarchy of Ponderosa Springs. You can still be alone; we’ll just be alone together.”

“This place looks great.” “The girls were a big help. Thank you for calling them. You didn’t have to come, though. Work must be busy.” I shift beneath his hard gaze, unwavering from my face like he doesn’t want to look anywhere else but at me. The attention from someone so intense is overwhelming. “This—” He motions to the space around us. “—Light, helping these girls, it’s important to you, yeah?” I nod quietly, unsure how to answer with words, so afraid to show anyone, especially him, how much I care. “Then I’ll be here.” He lifts a hand, pushing a piece of hair behind my ear. “If it’s important to you, I can skip a budget meeting for it.”

Silas takes her hand, shaking it to be polite. One thing I’ve come to really like about this man is how he never forces a smile. I mean, he doesn’t really show any emotion on his face, but I like that he doesn’t change himself around different people. Silas is Silas. What you see is what you get. But with me, it’s different. Like that statement doesn’t apply when we are alone. Sometimes Silas is anything but Silas. He’s something else entirely. He’s the kind of man who buys an entire collection of your artwork because he doesn’t want anyone to have the secret parts of you that you do give to people willingly. He wants them all to himself.

“Silas.” My father clears his throat. “We’d love to have you for dinner one night. Our chef makes prime rib that pairs flawlessly with a bottle of scotch. Are you a single-malt man?” “I drink bourbon.” The muscles in his jaw twitch, voice smooth like liquid night. “And I don’t eat meat.” I try to hide the shock on my face but find it difficult as I look up at him. The bourbon, I knew about. He’s got a cart in his office, stocked with ice nightly, but the meat? “Since when?” I ask. Silas looks down, the harshness in his eyes softening, and like it’s no big deal, like it’s the simplest thing in the world, he says, “Since you told me you don’t like the smell.” He almost looks offended that I’d think differently. Like it was self-explanatory that if I didn’t like something, he wouldn’t like it either. I melt a little into those dark brown eyes, my heart tightening in my chest. It’s such a small gesture, but it’s the kindest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

“What do you need?” Silas asks. “Huh?” “What do you need?” he asks again. “You frown when you’re upset. Tell me how to fix it.” This is exactly what I’m talking about. This observant person who has seen right through me from that very first phone call. No one has ever cared about me the way he does. Paid attention to the way I move and how I feel the way he has. My entire life, I have been made to believe I am unlovable. That I am a cursed, hard-to-love creature undeserving of kindness, and Silas just…he makes it look so easy. “I tell you what I need to feel better, and you just fix it? A snap of your fingers? What if I said stabbing Regina with a fork would make me feel better, Hawthorne?” He steps closer to me, rubbing his thumb across the lines on my forehead. “You’re in control of a monster, Hex. Whatever you need, it’s already yours.” The scary part isn’t that he views himself as a monster. It’s that I believe him.

“It’s lavender tea.” I clear my throat. “Lilac mentioned it’s the only thing that helps you sleep. Fresh lavender, not the fake shit. Her words, not mine.” She blinks her bleary eyes, and my fingers have to fight not to reach out and wipe the tears away. The only way I want to comfort her is the last thing she needs. I want to hold her, touch her, physically make her feel safe, but touch is a trigger for Coraline. It’s a hard line to walk when all I want to do is touch her. “I thought I was out.” She tentatively reaches out, taking the mug from me and tucking it against her chest. My hand reaches behind my neck, scratching lightly. “I bought a plant.” “You bought a fucking lavender plant? Why?” I refrain from laughing, because that’s what Rook said when I first told him. My head bobs up and down, a slow nod, confirming her words. “Because you like it.” When is she going to realize there is nothing I won’t do for her? That if it’s what she desires or it benefits her well-being, I’ll do it. I’ll get whatever it is. She wants a garden of lavender? I’ll get her two. She deserves that.

“I made her a promise that I’d never tell anyone, and she promised to believe me when I told her there weren’t voices, that I wasn’t losing my mind.” I lived my entire life with a misdiagnosis of schizophrenia to keep her secret. To keep her safe. Because she was the only person I had, and I didn’t want to lose her.

this is so heartbreaking oh my god

“The guys,” she mutters. “They don’t know?” I shake my head. “Telling them back then would’ve meant betraying Rosie. I couldn’t do that to her.” Even though I’d wanted to. Even though I’d begged her to let me tell them, just so my closest friends would know me for who I really was and not who this town told them I was. But she refused, and it was my secret to give them. I couldn’t make them believe Rosemary’s truth. So, I swallowed it, chewed it down like nails, and lived with them stabbing my throat every time I opened my mouth. Until I just stopped talking because it hurt too fucking much to lie to them.