Speechless (Pier 70 #3)

by Nicole Edwards

  Hudson didn’t even want to think about that. As it was, his heart was fractured from the pain he felt. The pain he knew Teague was feeling.

  Despite what anyone thought, Hudson fully believed that suicide was a last resort. He didn’t think his mother would’ve taken her own life if she hadn’t felt as though it was her only option.

  Hudson didn’t want that to be Teague’s only option.

  Thirty-Five

  Sunday, August 14th

  TEAGUE FELT LIKE dog shit.

  Not only had he almost died, but now he had the mother of all hangovers.

  Somehow he’d managed to sleep most of the night, likely the effects of the alcohol. They’d kept him in the hospital for observation from the near-drowning, as they called it. And now, the sun was up, and he’d been sitting in the hospital bed for the past few hours staring at the wall. Thankfully, most of the alcohol was flushed out of his system thanks to a hell of a lot of vomiting and the stupid IV in his arm. He was dehydrated, they’d said.

  He’d specifically told the nurse that he didn’t want anyone to visit, although he didn’t suspect anyone would. It made him feel better to think he was keeping them out, not them ignoring him altogether. Knowing Cam, he was probably super-pissed right about now. Teague didn’t need anyone telling him he was stupid or that he should’ve come to them. Blah, blah, fucking blah. He damn sure didn’t need a lecture.

  Why the fuck had Hudson pulled him out of the goddamn lake, anyway? If he had left him alone the way he wanted, Teague wouldn’t be dealing with this shit right now.

  He didn’t remember a hell of a lot about last night, but he remembered Hudson’s hands on his face when Teague had come to. He remembered vomiting his guts up while Hudson hovered over him. Teague had been so damn angry at the time. Hudson had ruined everything.

  A knock sounded on the glass door of the tiny room he was in a second before it slid open and a nurse walked in.

  “Can I get some aspirin?” he asked as soon as she cleared the doorway. His head was pounding.

  “I’m sure I can come up with something,” she replied kindly.

  “When can I leave?”

  The frown on her face told him he was not going to like the answer. “The doctor has opted to keep you for a little while.”

  “What’s a little while?” It was obvious she was being vague.

  “Seventy-two hours.”

  “Why?”

  “For observation.”

  Yeah, that was bullshit.

  The only thing that kept Teague from launching up out of the bed was Hudson appearing in the doorway.

  “I don’t want to talk to you,” Teague blurted, glaring at the big man who filled the entrance to the room.

  Hudson signed: Too bad. I need to talk to you.

  Teague hated that he was willing to give in, but he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of here if he was belligerent. He’d seen enough TV shows to know that. So when the nurse turned her attention on him, Teague nodded, staring down at the blanket covering his legs.

  The nurse left them alone, and Hudson closed the door behind her, then came to stand at the end of the bed. Teague hesitantly looked up.

  Where is your phone?

  “Probably on the bottom of the lake.” He had no idea where any of his stuff was. When he’d come to, he was wearing a stupid hospital gown and all of his shit was gone.

  Hudson typed something out on his phone, but Teague had no idea what.

  A minute later, that question was answered because Dare appeared at the door, then stepped into the room to join them.

  “Hey,” Dare greeted softly. “You doin’ all right?”

  Teague gave him a what do you think look. He had a blinding headache, and they were keeping him against his will, so no, he wasn’t fucking all right.

  Hudson signed again, but this time, Teague didn’t pay any attention. He leaned his head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling.

  “Hudson wants me to translate for him,” Dare announced.

  “Whatever.” Teague didn’t bother to look at either of them.

  “We want you to get some help. Psychiatric help, Teague.”

  “I don’t need help.”

  Dare huffed. “I think you and I both know that’s bullshit, and that’s not Hudson talking.” His voice lowered. “You tried to kill yourself.”

  Yeah, well. If he’d succeeded, he wouldn’t be here listening to this shit.

  “We care about you, Teague. We want you to get some help.”

  “Well, they’re keeping me for three days, so looks like you get your wish.”

  “That’s not the help we mean. Three days isn’t nearly enough.”

  Teague closed his eyes. “Are you going to fire me?”

  “Of course not,” Dare snapped.

  “Then I think I’ll be fine. I just need to get back to work.”

  “No.”

  Lifting his head, he glanced at Dare. The finality in that one word told him that it wouldn’t be that easy. “Why the hell not?”

  “Because we’re not willing to sit back and watch you hurt like this. We can’t go through this again.” Dare cleared his throat. “I got this. You might not believe this, but we care about you. You’re a hell of a lot more than a damn employee, Teague. You’re fucking family. And we’re not willing to lose you. You’re hurting and you don’t have to.”

  Teague realized Hudson was no longer signing and Dare wasn’t repeating what Hudson wanted him to. He was speaking what was on his mind. Looking at Dare once more, Teague said, “Can I borrow your phone? That way I can talk to Hudson and then he can be on his way.”

  Without question, Dare tossed his phone over, then stepped out of the room. He didn’t look happy, but he’d said what he’d needed to say. Teague didn’t need a lecture.

  A text came in immediately.

  I want you to get help, Teague. You don’t have to suffer like this.

  “Oh, so now you’re gonna tell me I’m mentally ill? Is that it?” He should’ve known Hudson would feed him that bullshit. “I’m fine. I lived, didn’t I?”

  This time.

  Teague didn’t bother responding. Hudson had a point.

  Have you ever attempted suicide before?

  Teague shook his head, staring down at his legs. Admittedly, he was embarrassed by what he’d done. He’d always thought he was stronger than that. He’d thought about taking his own life, sure, but it’d never gotten that far. He wanted to be better than his mother.

  The phone buzzed.

  Where are your parents?

  He glared up at Hudson after reading the text. “That’s none of your business.”

  Hudson signed: It is now.

  Teague’s teeth clamped together as anger surged inside him. “My mother killed herself, is that what you want to hear?” The words flew out of his mouth before he even thought about what he was saying. “I was three years old. I don’t remember her, but she killed herself and left me all alone. I don’t have any other family. None. So now you can tell me all about how mental illness made her kill herself while her three-year-old son was in the next room, right?”

  Hudson took a step closer, and Teague continued to glare at him.

  You have me.

  Okay, that’s not what he thought he’d say.

  Teague snorted. “Do I? Is that why you abandoned me? Is that why you ran off?”

  Hudson’s eyes narrowed. I was trying to give you space.

  “Yeah, right.”

  Hudson started in on his phone again.

  You said you didn’t want anyone to know. I thought by staying with my brother, you’d get some time to think things through.

  “What does that even mean?” Was he supposed to change his mind because Hudson had sent him that text? Or did Hudson want Teague to end this between them?

  I thought you would realize that what we have is more than sex. I don’t want this to only be about sex anymore, Teague. I want more. I want all
of you.

  Teague was floored. He stared open-mouthed at the phone, rereading the message over and over again. He was still staring when another text came through.

  Roan knows of a good psychiatric hospital that we can get you into. They can get you the treatment you need.

  “Get me into? What? Like you want me to stay there? No fucking way.”

  They have outpatient care, but you would have to do everything they say.

  Teague frowned. “And you trust me to do that?” That didn’t sound like Hudson. Or anyone he knew, for that matter.

  We’ll all be with you. So, yes, I trust you. We knew you wouldn’t want to be holed up in the hospital, so we checked into outpatient treatment. It involves intensive counseling and there will be medication. But I’ll be right there beside you. I’m not walking away from you. I’m all in at this point, Teague. All in.

  Was that Hudson’s way of saying … he loved him? Could that really be true?

  “And you think they can fix me?” For the first time in a long time, Teague felt hopeful. He’d been dealing with this for most of his life. He was smart enough to know something was wrong, but he didn’t know what. But if there was—

  Depression isn’t curable. But it is treatable. They’ll have to diagnose you, Teague. At that point, they can figure out a way to treat it. Medication will help.

  Well, that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Fuck.

  “Why do you even care?” Teague blurted. “That’s the one thing I really don’t get. Why the fuck do you care?”

  HUDSON HADN’T FIGURED Teague would be willing to be admitted to a hospital, but he was hopeful that Teague was going to agree to outpatient therapy. Or he had been right up until Teague had asked that question. He debated on how to answer it, but he opted to go for the truth.

  He wasn’t going to say it in text, though, so he put his phone down and signed: Because I care about you.

  Teague snorted. “Right. You care about fucking me.”

  Okay, enough of this shit.

  Hudson picked up his phone and shoved it in his pocket and moved closer to the bed. He sat on the edge of the thin mattress next to Teague. Cupping Teague’s face, he stared into Teague’s eyes. Emotion swamped him, consumed him from the inside out.

  He’d been a mess ever since he’d pulled Teague out of the lake. His hands still shook as he held Teague’s head. There was no way Teague didn’t feel that.

  While Teague was being treated, Hudson had been sitting alone in the waiting room, keeping his distance from the others because he needed time to pull himself together. After going home and showering off the lake water—he might’ve actually cried for a solid ten minutes on top of that—he had raced to the hospital only to find out that no one was being allowed to see Teague. The only thing he’d wanted was to be with him.

  That was hours ago. They’d all stayed in the waiting room overnight, waiting until they could get in to see him. He doubted Teague would believe him, but everyone, including Milly, AJ, Keith, Holly, and even Mr. Strickland, was still out there. He doubted they were going to leave until some decisions were made about what Teague would do when he left here.

  There were a lot of people who cared about Teague, even if the kid was too stubborn to believe it.

  However, Hudson loved him. Not only did he care about his well-being, he loved him. Heart, body, and soul. He wasn’t sure he could live without Teague, and he didn’t want to imagine a world without him in it.

  Admittedly, Hudson had never felt like this before. It was hard to breathe at times. The thought of losing Teague … it was more than he could bear. At first, when he had initially wondered whether or not he’d gone and fallen in love with the kid, he had talked himself out of that only to realize it was true.

  He loved Teague.

  Sometime during the last month and a half, he had fallen in love with Teague, and the idea of spending the rest of his life without him in this world was something Hudson couldn’t comprehend.

  Staring into Teague’s eyes, Hudson noticed a sheen of moisture there.

  He brushed his thumb over Teague’s cheek again.

  “I’m scared,” Teague whispered.

  That admission leveled him, and Hudson pulled Teague against him, cupping the back of his head while he fought the tears that formed. He couldn’t imagine the pain Teague was in. The ER doctor had called in a psychiatrist to evaluate Teague because of the attempted suicide. Cam and the others had shared what they could with the doctor, knowing Teague would likely keep it all bottled up. There was no doubt he suffered from depression, but the severity was unknown. Since no one knew about his past, there was no way for them to determine anything more than that. The fact that he’d attempted to take his own life said that he was suffering significantly. They had to get him help.

  Hudson kissed the side of Teague’s head, holding him there for another minute before pulling back enough that he could kiss Teague’s mouth. He didn’t linger, but he needed him to know that he wasn’t running from this and he wasn’t going to allow Teague to run, either.

  When he pulled back, he lowered his hands and signed: I really do care about you.

  Again, Teague didn’t look convinced, so Hudson decided to go for broke.

  I love you.

  Teague obviously understood what he’d said because his eyes widened as they darted up to meet Hudson’s. For the longest time, Teague didn’t say a word, he simply stared. Hudson wasn’t sure what he wanted the kid to say, but when he opened his mouth, his hope returned.

  “Will it help?” Teague asked, sounding so vulnerable, so lost. “The therapy? The medication?”

  Hudson nodded. He truly believed that it would. After his mother had taken her own life, he had devoured information on mental illness. There were entire organizations devoted to getting the information out there, making people aware, eliminating the stigma. It didn’t only affect a few people. It affected millions.

  And it had affected his mother. She’d been diagnosed with severe depression years before, and it had ended up killing her. Hudson would not sit back and allow that to happen to Teague.

  “Okay,” Teague muttered softly. “I’ll do it.”

  The relief was overwhelming. He signed: Sleep for a little while. I need to talk to the others. I’ll be back. I won’t let you do this alone.

  Teague nodded, then leaned back against the pillow, watching Hudson closely. He had no idea what was going through the kid’s head, but the fact that he was willing to get help was a good sign.

  Once he was out in the waiting room with the others, Hudson relayed his conversation with Teague. Well, most of it, anyway. He left out the admission of love, of course.

  He saw the relief on their faces when he told them that Teague was willing to get help.

  “Inpatient or outpatient?” Roan asked.

  Hudson signed: He says outpatient, but we’ll let him make that decision when he gets there.

  “Agreed. They have a partial inpatient program also,” Cam said. “I’ve already contacted them, and they’ll gladly take him as a patient, either way. He’ll need to be evaluated by their doctors.”

  Hudson nodded. He understood that.

  Now, the hardest part was going to be the transition.

  Then the waiting.

  But he knew, in the end, if it meant Teague could get some help to deal with his depression, it would be worth it.

  And he would be right by Teague’s side the entire time. No matter how hard things got.

  Thirty-Six

  Monday, August 22nd

  HUDSON SAT AT his desk, staring at his laptop before pulling up the search engine and typing in the name of the place he’d seen on the brochure.

  It’d been a little more than a week since Teague had admitted himself to the inpatient program at the hospital they’d suggested. Hudson had driven Teague there himself, sat with him while he talked to the administrator, and even waited while he was evaluated by one of their physicians. When
they were explaining Teague’s options, Hudson had sat beside him and nearly cried when Teague had reached over and taken his hand.

  Honestly, he’d never been prouder of Teague than he was that day.

  When the doctor had explained that his best chance for success was their inpatient program, followed by their extensive outpatient care, Teague had said he was interested. Hudson had been shocked but so fucking happy. Teague had said he was following Hudson’s lead. He was all in. Another shock to Hudson’s system came when Teague had requested that he get a therapist who knew sign language. When they mentioned family sessions, Teague said that he would want Hudson there and they would need to know ASL to communicate. Hudson had nearly sobbed.

  Admittedly, the marina wasn’t the same without Teague there, though. The workload was manageable, but Hudson spent most of his time thinking about Teague regardless of what he was doing. After Hudson had kissed Teague one last time and they had taken Teague back, Hudson had asked to talk to the doctor alone. Since the doctor didn’t know sign language, he had asked his questions via text. Mostly, Hudson wanted to know what he could do to help Teague. Was there counseling that he could attend to help him understand more about what Teague was dealing with? Or would he simply be expected to adapt to Teague’s mood swings and try to figure out how to help him on his own? He’d been serious when he told Teague he wasn’t going to have to do this alone. Hudson was going to do whatever he possibly could.

  The doctor had been happy to tell him all about how Hudson could encourage Teague to continue treatment, about giving positive reinforcement, helping to create a low-stress environment. All of the things Hudson had already read up on. When he specified about family therapy sessions, the doctor gave him some information on local organizations that would offer help to them both once Teague was back in the real world full time.

  And when Hudson got home, he did as he had always done. He looked into that information, then started searching on his own. He was willing to do whatever it took to be there for Teague, to help him to cope with what they were calling major depressive disorder. As far as he was concerned, it was no different than any other medical condition. He needed to know what to do in order to help Teague adapt to it.