Page 50 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

Shoving my phone into my pocket, I tugged on a black hoodie, opened my window, and climbed down the old oak tree at the side of our house.

In the early days during my first week there, I’d attempted to run away twice using this route.

Ma had the branches taken off, but new ones had grown.

So, I used this route when I needed to jog, another method of calming myself down.

Anxiety pumped through my veins as I thought about visiting the prison where my father had been incarcerated for so many years. I needed to up my meds before I went, anything to allow me to keep calm during what would be a triggering experience.

As I ran towards Molly’s house, I glanced into the distance. The light in her bedroom was on. I quickly checked my phone. It was almost midnight. I had expected nice girls like her to be asleep by now. The fact that she wasn’t made my blood pump.

I spied the side of her house. It wasn’t so different to Ma’s, but there was no convenient tree to give me access to her room.

As I got to the driveway, I kicked into stealth mode and crept down the side of her house. If her father saw me, I’d be toast.

Shaking my head and dashing a hand across my face, I tried to sober the fuck up.

And then I did something stupid.

I took a deep breath, placed my sneakered foot onto the lattice against the side of the house, and started to climb (mindful of the roses attached to it).

It wasn’t until I got to the roof that I realized there was no turning back. Molly’s window was a large dormer set against the tiles. The rose bush, unfortunately, was also curling partway up the roof.

And with a determination fuelled by tequila and balls of steel, I powered through .

MOLLY

THUNK!

“Goddamnit!” A muffled voice erupted from who knew where. Turning the water off, I glanced across at Roger. He was sitting between the bathroom and bedroom door. I knew he’d heard the noise. Our cat was on high alert. His back was arched, and his tail wagged, a sure sign he was agitated.

Another crash followed. “Motherfucker!”

I dashed over with my toothbrush hanging out of my mouth as I went to see what the ruckus was.

As I listened, I heard a scraping noise. It was coming from outside my window. My bedroom window.

Slowly approaching the glass, I strained to see outside. The light from my room made it difficult to see into the cloaked night air, and I saw more of my reflection than anything else.

Knuckles knocked on my window, making me hedge back, and Roger jumped onto my dressing table, upending the desk tidy with all my pens in it.

Shit.

My heart thumped against my ribcage. “What the hell?” I whispered-shouted as I saw Hudson’s half-shadowed face. He wore a pained expression, and fear of him being injured or falling off our roof forced me to act.

Pulling my toothbrush from my mouth, I threw it next to the mess the cat had caused and lunged forward to unlatch the window.

And sure enough, Hudson half slid, half fell through it and into my room in a large, muscled heap. He was a mass of tangled limbs. There was little finesse to his entry. He caught his leg on my dressing table before lifting it over

I felt giddy with relief that he was inside and safe.

“Hudson?” I squeaked, staring at him with my mouth wide open. My heart yoyoed between excitement and this is not a good idea .

The first thing I noticed was the joggers he wore. They had dipped low on his hips, and I could see part of his backside. Fuck that was firm. I didn’t digest the fact that he clearly had no underwear on. His top had also ridden up, showing what looked like bruising on his ribs.

And then I saw his face. He’d been fighting, and my heart squeezed as I closed the window and leaned down to help him to his feet.

“Sorry,” he huffed. I could smell spirits on his breath. It was zesty and sweet. Not unpleasant like I would have expected for second-hand alcohol.

Hudson’s hard body was warm, and I did little to help as he started to stand. The hoodie he wore made him look twice as large as usual.

He eventually righted himself, rearranged his sweats before yanking his top down. As he swayed on his feet, I grasped his arm. The muscles of his biceps flexed against my fingers. If he fell over, there would be nothing I could do to stop him. He was huge and stole all the air in my room.

“What are you doing here?” I hissed, glancing towards my closed bedroom door. I wasn’t surprised my father hadn’t heard anything. The man slept like the dead, and it was after midnight, but who knew right? Maybe Dad had a radar for people breaking into his house.

OMG! I had a boy in my bedroom.

I noticed Hudson’s arms were scratched up, no doubt from the rosebushes down the side of the house. I wondered what other injuries he was hiding. There was a cut above one eyebrow, and his face was bright red.

Hudson was bulky, but I managed to direct him to my bed, moving his arm over my shoulder and then pushing him down onto the mattress. Roger meowed his disapproval. I shoved some of my teddy bears to the side.

I gave Roger a pointed look. “Some good you are as a guard dog.”

As Hudson’s backside hit my mattress, this brought him level with my chest. I could see his eyes were glued to my breasts, so I grabbed his chin to divert his attention.

“When you’ve done checking out my chest, you can tell me what you’re doing here?”

Once I had his attention, I dropped my hand. “I needed to see you,” he husked, struggling to breathe after his climb. I watched him glance around my room, taking in his surroundings. I imagined this wasn’t his first time in a girl’s bedroom.

“So, you decide to ascend the side of our house?”

“Is that a posh word for climb?” he said with a lazy grin, resting back on his arms .

“Yes, I suppose so,” I replied with a sigh of exasperation, folding my arms across my chest.

“Then yeah. That’s what I've done. Or should I say, did?”

“You’re drunk?” I said sharply.

He gave me a toothy look. “Little bit.”

I dropped my arms with a huff. “Stay there and for goodness' sake, don’t make any noise,” I said firmly before going to my bathroom to get him a drink.

As I returned with a glass in my hand, Hudson was lying fully on my bed, pushed up against the pillows, with his hands under his head. He looked very much at home. I noticed he’d removed his shoes.

I felt a flare of lust at the sight of such a fine male specimen in my bed. The floral purple covers didn’t do him justice. He belonged in a bed with black satin sheets.

“Here,” I said, holding the glass out. He didn’t take it as he was too busy undressing me with his eyes, so I placed it next to him on the bedside table.

“You look nice,” he mumbled.

Rolling my eyes, I asked. “Who were you fighting with?” I half expected him to say Xander’s name, but he didn’t.

“Micah. He’s an asshole.”

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. “Your brother, Micah?” Goodness. I wondered what shape he was in. “Is he OK? Still breathing?”

Hudson huffed moodily. “Yeah. He’ll live. Although I should have pounded his ass into the ground after what he’s done.”

“What did he do?”

He then explained with a slur here and there that Micah had been buying drugs and had gotten in debt to the sum of around three thousand dollars.

My heart squeezed. I could see from the look on his face how worried he was.

I remembered Xander saying Micah owed him money, but I hadn’t remembered it being quite as much as that.

Maybe they’d be able to work out a repayment plan?

And then again, after Hudson had almost choked him in front of half the school.

Maybe not. I wondered if there was any way I could help them before Hudson distracted me.

He was looking at me with such longing. “Is that what you wear to bed?”

I was wearing sleep shorts and a camisole with dog paws on them. They were very tight, and I wore no bra.

I folded my arms over my chest again and quirked him a look. “Yes. So? ”

“Your PJs have dog paws on them. I thought you’d be a cat girl?” Hudson said with a sexy smirk.

“I am. Roger, meet Hudson, Hudson, meet Roger,” I said, picking our cat up off the floor where he was nuzzling against my legs. “My mom bought me these.”

“Roger? Funny name for a cat.”

I placed the cat back on the floor before moving to the bed to assess the damage. I took in the entirety of his injuries before heading back to the bathroom.

“Stay put,” I ordered.

“Yes, ma'am.” His reply made me smile. Ma’am?

Running my baby pink washcloth under the warm water, I took a deep breath.

Calm down. Hudson Gage is in your bedroom. If dad found out I was screwed.

As I walked back into my room, Hudson had pushed himself into a sitting position and had removed his hoodie.

Fucking hell! His body was ripped and bruised to fuck.

I knew he was well muscled after seeing him in the pool, but the lamp in my room highlighted every carved contour.

He was so beautiful with tanned skin and a smattering of fine hair surrounding his dark nipples.

His abs were slightly creased from how he was sitting, and I wanted to run my hands over his stomach, trail my fingers down that ladder of hair that disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants.

They left little to the imagination, and my mouth parted as I wondered what he would look like down there.

I’d felt it against my stomach that day he had kissed me against the lockers.

“Molly Miller. Are you checking out my junk?” Hudson chuckled.

My entire face ignited, and I drew my gaze away. “You don’t have to look away. I like it. You can touch it if you want?” He said, squeezing himself through his joggers with his hand.

I rolled my eyes. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

Hudson then moved his hand and patted the bed, enticing me to sit close to him. I knew I had to, as it was the only way I could treat his wounds.

“Behave,” I cautioned.