by Stacey Lynn
My engine was running, keeping me warm. After we ate dinner, I dropped Lilly off at the church where I waited for her to skip up the cement stairs. Once she gave me one last glance before disappearing inside, I pulled away from the sidewalk, drove around the block, and parked again in the same spot where I stayed and waited for her.
Sure, she could take the bus. But it was either go home and watch television and play games on my phone or, do the same things in the truck while making sure she got home okay.
Easy choice for me.
An hour later, when people started coming out of the church, I plugged my phone into the charger and ditched my last round of Animal Farm.
She stepped out a few moments later, the scarf she’d removed at dinner draped around her throat and a fuzzy black coat buttoned up and hugged to her chest. She glanced at the piece of paper in her hand and looked toward the bus stop before she did a double-take and saw my truck.
Shaking her head, I caught the exasperated smile she wore like some women wore diamonds and hurried down the steps straight toward me.
I returned her smile. It was a toss-up whether she’d be annoyed or happy to see me waiting for her. And I was damn glad it was the latter.
I unrolled the window as she got closer and leaned over my console. “Need a lift?”
“I’m not even surprised you’re still here,” she said, grinning up at me with an adorable smile, still shaking her head.
I shrugged. So she was learning just how overprotective I really was. I counted it as a win she climbed right up and buckled without trying to argue about taking the bus.
“Everything go okay?” I pulled out into the street and cringed.
What a stupid question. How did you ask about AA meetings? I had no clue the first thing that went on in them. Did she have to speak? Tell her story?
She rubbed her hands down the thighs of her jeans and set her head against the headrest turning to me. “They take a lot out of me. Some of the people who come, they’ve had it bad, and I just… I feel their pain in a way.” She rolled her head toward the front and sighed. “It’s been a really great day, but a long one. I’m exhausted.”
“Then I’ll get you home.” With a hundred questions on the tip of my tongue and the guts to ask none of them.
28
Lilly
I wanted Hudson to know.
I wanted him to know everything about me. When we were together, I no longer felt like a charity project. I felt like a woman who was desired. A woman worthy of being cared for.
I fisted my hands in my coat pocket, thought of the meeting tonight I was forced to attend even though I’d never had an alcohol problem. Hell, when I was in high school I never had more than three drinks. I enjoyed being tipsy and silly with my friends, but thanks to my brother and my mom, I’d spent years living with the repercussions of overindulgence and addiction.
That didn’t mean I didn’t learn things in my parole-required meetings. Tonight, they spoke about honesty. Being truthful with yourself when you recognized you had a problem. Being truthful when you knew you were struggling, at risk of relapsing. No one wanted to appear weak, and I’d spent six years behind walls where weakness could literally get you killed.
It took strength to be honest with your demons, with the evil thoughts in your mind that told you you weren’t good enough, that told me I’d killed my brother… one of the last things my father had ever said to me.
I stopped outside my door, keys still tucked in my purse. Inhaling a heavy breath that chilled my lungs, the words fell out of me in a rushed exhale. “I wasn’t driving the car the night Josh died. He was.”
A ball lodged in my throat and I finally found the strength to face Hudson, to have him see my truth, the one I’d hidden for so long. The one that ate away at me in my dreams and in nightmares.
He knew I was in prison. I didn’t know how much he knew of the details, but by the flash in his eyes, he was either surprised I was talking about it at all or by learning that small fact.
I didn’t know what to expect from him, but my body heated as he lifted his hand and cupped my cheek. Tilting his head to the side, he asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I did. I nodded, already feeling the burn of tears. The rush of relief in finally speaking my truth. I really wanted him to know the person he’d been so kind to. “Yeah. I would like to.”
I sniffed away the tears forming.
His hand slid to the back of my neck and tilted my head up so I had to look at him direct in the eyes. “You can tell me anything. Always. Or nothing at all.”
And somehow, I knew that. I could trust this man. I could trust him with everything.
I curled my hand around his wrist. “I want you to know.”
“Then I’ll listen.” He bent down, kissed me briefly, softly, but powerfully enough my body warmed. “Get your keys.”
I unlocked the door and once we were inside, relocked it behind us. Dropping my purse to the kitchen counter, I unbuttoned my coat and tossed it over my purse.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“No, thank you.”
“Funny.” I laughed, awkward and stilted. “I can’t remember the last time I had a drink, but I could really use one right now.” Too bad I couldn’t.
Hudson took a seat on the couch, back to the corner, one arm on the armrest and the other flung over the back of the couch. He bent one leg up, one foot planted flat to the floor. He looked sprawled out and relaxed, but the tension in his eyes belied his manner.
“Come here, Lilly.”
If he was trying to make me feel relaxed, it wasn’t working. There would be no relaxing for me. Not through this.
I went to him and once I was close, he reached out, pulled me to him so I was curled in his arm, pressed against his side, ensconced in his heat and safety of his strength. And that boulder of guilt I’d become so accustomed to carrying in my gut shrank. I could give all my truths to him and I knew, at the end, he would still hold me like he was doing now.
And while that sent a flutter of hope through me, it didn’t make telling the story easier.
I focused on the thread of his dark blue jeans he’d thrown on after work and the small, frayed area on his muscled thigh.
Clearing my throat, words escaped me. Everything had been so convoluted and dark and twisted for so long, finding the beginning was difficult.
Hudson’s hands curled around the back of my neck and he dragged his hand through my hair, massaged my neck and scalp while I gathered myself.
“Take all the time you need.”
“I don’t know where to start.”
Eventually, with our reflection shining in the open windows and flickers of city lights coming from beyond them, I found the starting point.
“Josh always had a big problem with alcohol. He went to rehab at least three times while he was still in high school, once in college. My dad did everything he could to hide it because Josh was so well known for football.”
It’d been so long since I’d talked about him, years since I’d ever told this story, just saying his name sent a pang of grief to my chest.
That hand of his continued running through my hair, soothing me, calming my racing heart and my jagged nerves.
“Dad beat us. Well, not me, but he used to beat Mom.” My voice was dry and scratchy. My throat burned as I spoke truths I’d always been so afraid to share. “I think the first time Dad hit Josh was when he was ten. Dad had slapped Mom in the living room after we were supposed to be in bed, but we’d snuck down for some water. Josh ran to Mom to block her and Dad punched him in the stomach.”
I squeezed my eyes closed to stave off the memory, the cry of Josh’s pain that had sliced through the home, making me tremble on the stairs where I’d stayed out of sight. A choked cry escaped me, and I dug my fingers into Hudson’s thigh as I relived that moment. Almost twenty years and I would never forget the sound of my older brother crying and screaming out in pain.<
br />
“Did he—?”
“No.” I burrowed deeper into Hudson’s hold and he dropped his arm, pulling me even tighter against him. His weight was a warm blanket as I said, “Dad never hit me, he just didn’t ever like me all that much. But Josh—Josh was special. Did you know he went to college on a full-ride?”
He hesitated and then said, “Tell me.”
“Top ten. He was the best, one of the best in the entire country. Anyway, we protected each other, Josh and me. He protected me, promised he’d come get me if I needed him to. That was why he went to college in Chicago when he could have gone to Alabama or Clemson. He stayed close to home for me. Even if he never said it, I knew it was why.” A football-sized lump grew in my throat. It was always Josh and me.
“It wasn’t the first time he’d come to get me from a party, but that night I called Josh because there’d been this guy there. He was a dick and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Kendra and I kept trying to avoid him, but he kept following us. I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, he was waiting for me…”
A shiver rolled down my spine. There were many nights after I was sentenced I remembered that moment. That paralyzing fear when I realized Billy had me caged in right outside the bathroom.
“Did he hurt you?” Hudson’s hand stalled in my hair and then curled around my shoulder. “Lilly.”
“No.” I shook my head and for the first time since I’d started talking, glanced at Hudson.
His square jaw was hard. Eyes narrowed. Anger pulsed off him and I shook my head again. “No. He didn’t hurt me. He tried, started to, but a couple came out of the bedroom across from us, bumped into him, and he fell down. I ran back to the kitchen and texted Josh.”
“And Josh came.”
A large ball of emotions lodge in my throat. And he came. Hudson made it sound so simple, but I’d had other options that night. Kendra and I could have left. We could have talked to our friends. I didn’t have to call Josh, it was just my instinct when I needed help.
Guilt and regret and remorse pummeled my veins, making my skin feel tight.
“Yeah, but I didn’t know he’d been drinking, partying with his own football buddies on campus and it took him an hour to get to me. When he did, he went on same crazy rage, beat the guy I told him about until he was a bloody mess. And then he said he needed a drink to calm down. I had one with him—it’d been my only drink in hours, and I didn’t know—”
Tears fell down my cheeks faster than I could shove them away.
“Stay here,” Hudson murmured and uncurled himself from his spot on the couch. I watched him go, wondering if he was going to leave me and escape while he could, but he went to the bathroom and returned with a box of tissues.
He sat back down on the couch and before I could curl into him, he pulled me onto his lap. I collapsed against him like I’d done it a thousand times. God. He was so damn good.
“Here.” He placed the box of tissues on my lap and I hugged them to my stomach while I blotted my eyes and blew my nose.
“Sorry.” I laughed. How gross.
Hudson just took the tissue and tossed it to the table before he handed me a fresh one.
I’d come this far. I needed to finish this. I needed someone other than a girl I’d probably never see again to know everything.
“It was April, but we’d had a late spring snowstorm. The roads were icy and slushy. I woke up, after the crash and I was alone in his truck. The last thing I remember is climbing into the driver’s seat and seeing Josh. He rarely wore his seat belt, and he wasn’t in the car when I came to the first time. But the glass was shattered and he was there—lying in snow and leaves and all that blood. So much blood.”
Hudson wrapped his arms around me, pulled me tight against his chest and held me while I cried. I cried for the first time in years, I cried tears of pain I’d long since thought were gone and tears of shame for what I allowed to happen.
“Dad was right. The last thing he said to me was that I killed Josh. That it was my fault, and he’s right.”
Hands at my scalp dug in. “No. Your dad is an asshole and he’s absolutely wrong, Lilly. It was an accident. And Josh should have been able to get the help he needed. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s your dad’s.”
He was wrong. He still didn’t get it. Had I not promised Josh. Had I not called him… I could have found another ride. I could have gone to a friend and stayed with someone that night. I could have done a hundred things that didn’t involve Josh knowing how protective he was of me.
Still, I clung to Hudson’s strength and his warmth and I cried until I collected myself, using more tissues than I’d ever used in one sitting and when I pulled back, my eyes were dry and probably bloodshot. But inside, relief was flickering and growing. Baring all of that to him was draining, so exhausting, and yet, I already felt different.
Lighter somehow.
I sniffed and crumpled my mess of tissues in my fist.
“I woke up again in the hospital and Dad was there. He was pissed. At me. I tried to tell him what happened, but he told me if I didn’t say it was my fault, that he’d kick me out with nothing. He said if I took the fall, I’d get community service, a slap on the wrist, but if Josh did, it’d ruin everything for him. And he’d saved me—”
“He always saved you.”
“It was my turn to help him.”
“Lilly—”
“So I did. And then two days later Josh died and because Dad might be able to get his daughter off with a drunk driving charge, once Josh died there was no way he could reduce the vehicular manslaughter, or reckless homicide. The fact I had alcohol in me and killed a family member made it an immediate Class 2 felony. I mean, Dad could have done something to help at that point. I’m sure he could have done something. But he was a judge and ran on being tough on crime.”
“And so he threw you to the wolves.”
“Hired the attorney for me and forced me to plead guilty. Said I’d still probably get a slap on the wrist.”
“He lied.”
“I know. I wasn’t driving that night. I didn’t… I called Josh and I should have known he’d be partying. It was the weekend and he always was, but I didn’t think.”
“You were scared and you leaned on the one person who was always there for you, Lilly. That’s all you did. You went to who you trusted.”
“And now he’s dead. And I’m still alone.”
I lost my hold again, sobbed and cried until my bones ached and I had no tears left.
Only then did I fall asleep, with Hudson’s arms wrapped around me, his hands cupping my head and holding me to him.
“Oh, God.” I groaned and peeled my eyes open. They were stuck together. I might as well have rubbed them with sandpaper and then doused them with bleach for as much as they burned.
Memories of the night before returned to me, flickered in pieces and then scrolled like a nightmare.
Oh God. I’d told Hudson everything. And he’d held me. I’d fallen asleep right before the movie ended in my memory banks and the last thing I remembered was him kissing the top of my head, telling me it was okay to cry. I vaguely recollected Hudson waking me at some point. He’d carried me to my room, handed me a shirt and then kissed the top of my head in such a tender way I’d fallen against him, hugged him until he told me to change.
I rolled, searched for the alarm I kept on the other side of my bed so I couldn’t hit snooze easily and rolled right into the man who comforted me.
Hudson.
He stayed. Despite the burn in my eyes, a grin broke out on my face as I took him in. In my bed. The sheets were shoved down, giving me a view of the curves of his chest, the delineation between his abs. He had one hand shoved under the pillow, arm cocked toward me.
His eyes flickered and then opened. Lips turned into a smile. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Like crap,” I admitted. My throat was rubbed raw. My chest hurt. I wouldn’t be surprised if I bruised ri
bs from the force of my sobs. But also… “I feel better too, though. Thanks for listening.”
He rolled to his side and tucked me into him, draping an arm over my waist and my head to his throat. “Anytime. I get the sense you needed to unload that.” He kissed the top of my head like he did last night while I cried and a warm, pleasant shiver of comfort rolled down my body.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He hummed in response and held me tight.
I stretched against him and groaned. The clock behind him said it was six-thirty. My first class was at eight. “I need to get moving. Get ready for school.”
“You should stay home and rest.”
“No. The last thing I want to do today is be alone with memories.”
“You’re not alone. Not anymore.”
I was beginning to realize that. The rest would take time.
“Come on.” Hudson groaned and rolled and lifted us in a move so liquid and quick, I was sitting on the edge of the bed, him next to me, before I could blink. “Let me at least get your coffee ready while you shower then.”
“Are you telling me I stink?”
“No. I’m saying you’ll feel better once you’re clean and refreshed.” He bumped his shoulder into mine. All of him was droolworthy. Firm and toned, but not overly so. He had a smattering of hair over his chest that ran down the center of his stomach, thickening right before it disappeared beneath the sheet. The photos of him I’d seen on the internet in swimsuits were nothing compared to the reality in front of me.
“You’re killing me with the way you’re looking at me right now,” he said.
My cheeks burned crimson and I glanced up at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. And while I would love to know what you’re thinking with that sexy little look on your face, today isn’t the day for that, not after last night, so get moving before I stop being a gentleman.”