Page 13 of Mad for Madison (The Boys of Hudson Burrow #4)

CHAPTER 12

Without You

Madison

The studio felt smaller than ever, the walls closing in like they had decided to suffocate me along with everything else. I’d packed up the paintings the day after I left Bradley’s place, shoving them into the closet where I couldn’t see them. I thought it might help not to have his face staring at me from the canvas. But it didn’t matter. The image of him was burned into my mind, sharper and more vivid than any paint I could have mixed.

Bradley’s laugh, his warm eyes, the way his hand lingered just a second too long on mine—all of it haunted me. The way he’d looked at me that night, standing in the rain, his face twisted in pain and disbelief, was the worst of it. I’d done that to him.

I sat in the middle of the studio floor, the air heavy with the scent of old paint and turpentine. My phone buzzed on the table across the room, but I didn’t move to check it. I already knew who it would be. Oakley, Tristan, Roman—they’d been calling nonstop since I disappeared. I hadn’t answered a single one. I couldn’t. What would I even say?

I hadn’t left the apartment in ten days. Food delivery bags piled up in the corner, and I barely had the energy to clear them away. The silence pressed in like a second skin. I didn’t want distractions. I didn’t want noise.

I wanted Bradley.

The thought hit me like a slap. I clenched my fists, trying to hold on to the anger that had carried me through the first few days. I’d told myself it was his fault, that he wanted too much from me, that he couldn’t understand what it cost to stay. But the truth was hard to face and harder to ignore.

I wanted too much from him.

I wanted his forgiveness without earning it, his love without deserving it. I wanted him to be the one to break down the walls I’d spent years building. And when he couldn’t, I’d blamed him for it.

My chest ached as the memory of Lily’s voice surfaced, bright and innocent. “Madison loves me, too!” she’d said, like it was the most obvious truth in the world.

I buried my face in my hands, the weight of everything crushing me. I didn’t deserve her trust, her love, or her father’s. I didn’t deserve the life they’d offered me, messy and beautiful as it was.

And yet, I couldn’t stop wanting it.

The painting of Bradley, the one hidden behind the closet door, came to me again. I saw it every time I closed my eyes—him lying on the bedsheet, his gaze soft and wandering, his hand resting over his beautiful body. He was mine. Or he had been.

I groaned, pushing myself to my feet. My legs were stiff from sitting too long, but I didn’t care. I crossed the room to the closet, pulling the door open with more force than necessary.

The painting wasn’t on top, but I knew where it was, buried beneath layers of canvas. My hands trembled as I pulled it out, setting it upright against the wall. And there he was, staring back at me with all the warmth and hope I’d walked away from.

My throat tightened, and I sank to my knees in front of it, my fingers brushing the edge of the frame. I’d painted him too perfectly. Every detail was a dagger.

“Damn it,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Damn it, Bradley.”

The tears came then, hot and blinding, and for the first time in days, I let them fall. I let myself feel the weight of what I’d thrown away. And what I could never get back.

The tears didn’t stop, even as I tried to pull myself together. My hands clenched into fists on my thighs, the cold edge of the floor pressing into my knees as I knelt before the painting like it held some kind of answer. It didn’t, of course. Bradley wouldn’t appear like magic just because I wanted him to.

But the thoughts started anyway, unbidden and relentless.

Maybe if I went back. If I showed up on his doorstep, admitted I’d been a coward, that I’d let my fear ruin everything. Maybe he’d listen. Maybe he’d forgive me.

I could see it so clearly—Lily running to the door, her bright eyes lighting up when she saw me. Bradley standing behind her, his arms crossed, guarded but not unkind. If I told him I wanted to stay, that I didn’t care about the mess or the fear anymore, maybe he’d give me one more chance.

But even as I imagined it, I knew it was a lie.

The reality wasn’t some heartwarming scene out of a movie. The reality was that I’d hurt him and that I had been the same old self-interested me all along. I’d left, knowing exactly how much it would break him. I’d walked away from the only people who had ever seen the real me and loved me anyway.

I sat back on my heels, my breath shuddering. I was tainted, too broken to be fixed. Bradley deserved better, and no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise, I wasn’t it.

“I can’t fix this,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. “I’ll just make it worse.”

The painting stared back at me, silent and damning.

When the doorbell rang, I realized I had been kneeling there for far longer than I had noticed. The tears had dried up a time ago. My knees burned as I stood up, stumbling toward the door. I caught a reflection of myself in the window, wondering who that haggard person was. My hair had curled messily, and an uneven beard had begun covering my face.

I walked to the door quietly and looked through the peephole. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed or relieved to see it wasn’t Bradley. I opened the door, and Austin James strolled in.

I barely had the energy to shut the door behind Austin, but I did. He stood there, looking entirely too polished for the wreck of a studio he’d just stepped into. His coat alone probably cost more than my last paycheck—and the paychecks in my industry were eye-watering at my level—and his sharp eyes scanned the mess like he was already calculating how to fix it.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing I didn’t deserve,” I muttered, dragging myself back toward the couch.

Austin followed, his boots clicking against the floor. He shrugged off his coat, draping it neatly over the back of a chair before sitting down across from me. His expression softened, but his voice carried a weight I wasn’t ready for.

“You look like hell,” he said plainly.

“Thanks,” I muttered. “That’s the goal.”

Austin leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, and studied me like I was one of his puzzles to solve. “You’re not the first to run yourself into the ground over love, you know. Believe it or not, I’ve been here too.”

I laughed, but it came out bitter. “Yeah, sure. Except you got the happy ending.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You think it was easy? You think Luca just fell into my lap without me fighting for it?”

I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to.

“You admire my journey, right?” Austin said, leaning forward. “You’ve said as much before. But do you even know what it cost me to walk away from that life? To let myself believe I deserved more?”

My throat tightened. I looked away, focusing on the pile of empty food containers in the corner.

“Madison,” Austin said, his voice sharp enough to pull my attention back to him. “Loving someone doesn’t mean you’re perfect. It doesn’t mean you won’t screw up. It means you choose them anyway, every single day. It means you fight for them when it’s hard, especially when it’s hard.”

“I already failed,” I said, my voice cracking. “I walked away.”

“So? Walk back,” Austin snapped, his tone cutting through my self-pity. “You think you’re the only one who’s ever made a mess of things? News flash, sweetheart: we all do. The difference is in what you do next.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words pressing against the walls I’d built around myself.

“I can’t?—”

“Stop saying that,” he interrupted. “You can’t undo the past, but you can choose what comes next. Sitting here in this cave of self-loathing isn’t fixing anything. Get up, clean yourself up, and go to him. Or don’t. But don’t you dare sit here and pretend you’re beyond saving. You’re not.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

“Come with me,” Austin said suddenly, standing up and grabbing his coat.

“What?”

“Come with me,” he repeated, his tone firm. “We’re getting you out of here. No arguments.”

I hesitated, but something in his eyes—steady and unrelenting—told me I didn’t have much choice.

The car was already waiting for us in front of the building. Austin didn’t let me shave and shower, but he did allow me to comb my hair a little bit—it didn’t help much; I was a mess—and he packed me into his elegant limo, told the chauffeur to go, and we moved on. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see where I was being taken. “Is there a point to this kidnapping?” I asked.

“There is,” Austin said and went quiet.

I didn’t dare ask. I feared he would take me to his friends and to Luca in order to cheer me up and shower me with compliments. I didn’t want to hear how passionate my work was. The person who had driven that passion was gone.

The car slowed down as it turned a corner many minutes later, and Austin sighed. “I lied,” he said.

“What?”

He chuckled. “I pretended I didn’t know what happened.”

That made his little speech about love make more sense. I narrowed my eyes. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere,” Austin said. The car came to a halt. “We’re here.” A small smile touched his lips. “Sorry. I always had a thing for drama.”

As Austin opened his door, so did I, only to step out before the warm, vibrant windows of Neon Nights. The door of the bar swung open, and Mama Viv stepped out. “There you are,” she said in her deep voice. “I almost started to worry, Madison.”

“What is going on?” I asked, standing my ground against the oncoming torrent. These people and their meddling. They thought they could just take you someplace against your will and make you happy, even if they had to force that happiness down your throat.

“We’re having a party, darling. Do keep up.” Mama Viv turned away from me and walked into the bar. Austin nudged me, and I grunted before taking a step forward. Damn it.

The bar was alive with noise and light, a kaleidoscope of neon hues landing on rustic surfaces. The bass from the speakers pulsed in time with the crowd’s movements, and for a moment, I stood frozen in the doorway, overwhelmed. Neon Nights wasn’t unfamiliar, but tonight, it felt transformed—bigger, brighter, fuller.

Austin nudged me again, and I let him guide me inside. As we stepped further in, I started to make sense of the chaos. My friends—my chosen family—were scattered across the room, laughing and mingling with faces from every corner of my fractured life.

Tristan was at the bar, deep in conversation with Jett, who, in his leather jacket and easy grin, looked like he belonged anywhere and everywhere. Ricardo leaned against the counter beside them, his arm draped casually over Oakley’s shoulders as Oakley animatedly described something with wild hand gestures. Cedric and Roman stood near the stage, sharing a private joke that had Roman throwing his head back in laughter.

And then there were the others—Luca, Parrish, and Levi—art-world contacts who somehow looked at home amidst the glitter and noise. Parrish raised a glass in my direction when he spotted me, his ever-brooding look in place.

Mama Viv held court in the center of the room, her presence larger than life as she drew people into her orbit. Everett was by her side, looking as polished and perfect as always, while Lane hovered nearby, clearly starstruck.

It was chaos, and it was perfect.

The worlds I’d kept separate for so long had collided here in this bar, blending seamlessly in a way I’d never dared to imagine. The weight I’d carried for years—of hiding, compartmentalizing, pretending—eased just a little as I stood there, taking it all in.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t feel like I had to choose. I didn’t have to be a runaway kid lost in the big city, or the artist, or the porn star. I could just be me.

A hand clapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to find Tristan grinning at me. “Took you long enough,” he said, his voice barely audible over the music. “Get in here.”

I let him pull me into the crowd, into the warmth and noise and laughter. And for a moment, just a moment, I forgot about everything that had brought me here.

Until I saw him.

It was like the entire world slipped from under my feet. Bradley stood in the far back of the bar and looked through the crowd straight at me. Passing bodies didn’t distract him or pull his gaze away. He looked at me and nobody else.

Tristan’s arm slipped away from my shoulders, and his hand touched my upper back, pushing me forward as I glided through the crowd. Nobody stopped me. Nobody bumped into me. They parted to let me pass, clearly being in on the plan, and I closed the distance between me and the person I wanted the most in this world.

Guilt roiled in me as I neared him. What had I done? What had my selfish nature caused? I’d hurt him. I’d abandoned him after he had let me into his home and his life. I’d turned away from his family because I was so little and so scared.

“Did you do this?” I asked quietly as I stepped in front of Bradley. I should have fallen on my knees and begged him to forgive me. “For me?” I asked.

Bradley gazed at me. There was some apprehension in that gaze. It wasn’t all welcoming. He looked at me like he wanted to believe in me, but he still feared I might decide to rip his heart apart. And that hurt the most. That I had done this to him.

But the disbelief in my tone made him soften. “Of course, Madison.”

“Why?” I whispered, still desperate to know why anyone would think of me twice, let alone put such a thing together.

“Because I need you to see,” Bradley said and swallowed, his eyes glimmering with welling tears. “You act like such a loner, Madison, but you are loved by so many people that we can hardly all fit. Look at them. Gran would have come if she wasn’t watching Lily tonight.” Bradley laughed. “You pretend that you’re cursed, but that never stopped anyone here from loving you, Madison.”

“Anyone?” I asked, not daring to hope.

“Anyone,” Bradley said softly. “Least of all me. Because I love you. I do.”

I mouthed the words, not yet fully understanding their meaning, their weight.

“Yeah,” Bradley said, smiling and taking a step closer. “And I don’t intend to let you go.”

A frown creased my brow as I fought against the oncoming tears. “After all I did and said, why would you…? All this?” I choked.

“You think you’re unforgivable,” Bradley said simply. “But I already forgave you for leaving me. And telling you that doesn’t get through, so I had to show you.”

I blinked, tears rolling down my cheeks furiously, and I stepped closer to him. He was inches apart from me. “I don’t deserve you.”

“We don’t get what we deserve,” Bradley said. “We get what we need. And I need you in my life, Madison.”

“I need you, too,” I blurted, then a breath hitched in my throat when I realized I hadn’t said the words yet. The magic words. The words that were so simple, so mundane, but that carried a promise that could last a lifetime if honored correctly. “And Bradley,” I said, putting my hands on his chest. To touch him again after thinking I would never be near him for as long as I lived felt like a miracle. “I love you, too. I love you more than I can say with words.”

His eyes lit up. They looked like sunrise. Like the first sunrise when the Earth was born. Was it possible that he hadn’t known this already? That he had been hoping to hear these words when I had felt it all along?

The moment the words left my lips, the world shifted. It was as if the air between us grew lighter, charged with something tender and electric yet impossibly fragile. Bradley’s gaze softened, and I could see it—the hope, the vulnerability, the deep well of love he’d kept for me even when I’d done everything to drive him away. How had I ever thought I could live without this?

His hands came up to cradle my face, his touch warm and grounding, and I leaned into it like a parched man finding water. The weight of my guilt pressed harder now, sharp and aching, but it didn’t stop me from holding his eyes, from soaking in the truth I saw reflected there. He loved me. Despite everything, he still loved me.

“I thought I’d ruined it,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Ruined us.”

Bradley’s thumb brushed the edge of my cheekbone, catching a stray tear. “You can’t ruin something that’s as real as this, Madison. You can dent it, sure. Scratch it up. But it doesn’t break. Not when it matters.”

I bit my lip, trying to hold back another wave of emotion, but it was futile. The tears came anyway, not from sadness but from relief. A raw, aching relief that made my knees weak and my chest ache with how full it suddenly felt. “I don’t know how to fix it. How to fix me. But I want to try. For you. For Lily. For us.”

“You don’t have to fix anything,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “You just have to let me love you. And you have to believe you deserve it.”

I closed my eyes, his words cutting through all the noise in my head, quieting the doubts that had shouted at me for so long. Could it really be that simple? Could I let myself be loved, flaws and all, without the fear of being left behind?

When I opened my eyes again, Bradley was still there, watching me with the patience and kindness I didn’t think I deserved. “I’ll try,” I whispered. “I’ll try every day.”

He smiled then, that beautiful, devastating smile that had first stolen my breath and now threatened to steal my heart entirely. “That’s all I need.”

And when he kissed me—soft and slow, like he was pouring every unsaid word and unbroken promise into me—I knew I was exactly where I had to be.

The party shifted the tone. It was almost like they all collectively released a sigh of relief after Bradley had kissed me and finally began to enjoy themselves. It lasted long into the night, according to the stories I heard the following day, but we didn’t stay. We mingled, we greeted people, and we rode the wave of elation that had filled the room. But when the clock struck nine, I took Bradley’s hand, and I told him where I wanted to be.

The car dropped us off in front of the building, and we climbed the stairs together. On the landing, I took his hand, kissed the back of it, then lifted my head and kissed him as deeply and passionately as if it would be the last kiss I had ever received. Or the first, the most promising one.

Bradley unlocked the door, and the thunder of tiny feet storming across the hallway greeted us before I saw them. Bradley entered the apartment. Dorothy wore a small smile on her face, waiting at the other end of the hallway, and Lily jumped happily in the middle, hugging Bradley’s leg and looking at me.

“Welcome home,” Bradley said, facing me.

The words hit me like a warm tide, washing over the jagged edges of my soul and smoothing them out. Welcome home . It wasn’t just a place—it was this, them, us. My chest felt tight, full to bursting with a joy so profound I thought I might float away from it.

Lily’s giggles were the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and Dorothy’s knowing smile wrapped around me like a protective embrace. But it was Bradley’s eyes, soft and steady on mine, that anchored me. This was love, unshakable and whole, and I was standing right in the middle of it.

I didn’t deserve this. But I wanted to. I wanted to be worthy of everything in this moment, and for the first time, I believed I could be.

Taking a breath of air, I stepped across the threshold.