Page 6 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

In case she hadn’t deciphered my code, I nodded and added, “Absolutely. Where in England are you from, little butterfly?”

She cleared her throat. Even that was sweet. This girl probably farted a melody and shit unicorn dust, “Butterfly?”

“Yeah, you’ve got that exotic look about you,” I explained, taking a lock of her hair before tugging it gently.

She didn’t stop me or move away, and I knew I was in, “I’m from Albury, in Surrey.”

Pursing my lips, I nodded again, “Oh yeah, right,” I said, pointing a finger with an expression that I was in the know.

She looked surprised. “You’ve heard of it?”

Had I fuck. I hoped my smile was charming, “Nope. Not even a little bit. Sounds nice, though.” I didn’t think it was possible, but her lips got wider. She liked being teased.

The delight on her face also highlighted how incredibly young she was.

Although not of her making, that look, but do not touch message pulsated between us.

I wondered how old she was. My conscience wouldn’t let me screw a girl younger than sixteen. I took a step back and rubbed the nape of my neck.

She's too good for the likes of you, the beast on my shoulder cruelly mocked me .

"Anyway, how’s your head feeling now?" she suddenly blurted, uncertainty flickering across her soft features, no doubt since neither of us had spoken for the last minute.

"I'll live. I think," I replied with a weak grin, my voice much deeper than normal.

The angel took another step towards me and raised her hand to my brow. Drawing a deep breath, I waited, excited at the thought of her touching me.

And there it was, an immediate spark as her fingers swept over my head. She had to push onto her tiptoes and into my personal space to get close, being so tiny.

I was about to lose my shit, as the scent of her hair wafted over me, like coconut and something else sweet, strawberries?

The feel of her palm as it pushed my hair back so she could inspect the space there was like the sweetest torture.

Swallowing, I lifted my hand to catch her gently by the wrist, conscious of how battered my skin was compared to her flawlessness.

If I allowed her to continue to caress me, there was a chance I'd end up embarrassing myself.

An all-consuming need was rushing through my body towards my crotch.

Get your head out of the gutter, Gage. You’re a man, nearly eighteen years old. Not a twelve-year-old boy who gets a hard-on to the opening of a fucking pencil case. And no, that had never happened to me. I was stereotyping.

The girl's bones were delicate in my large, scarred hand—another example of how different we were. The angel allowed me to move her arm towards her side, one fine eyebrow arched. I didn't let her go straight away, and she glanced at our now-threaded fingers.

“I can’t see or feel any bumps,” she said, lifting her chin.

Yeah? Don’t look down again, sweetheart.

"As I said. Don’t worry, I'm good,” I responded. I couldn’t control the way my voice cracked.

She didn’t appear convinced, “Well, if there’s anything I can do...”

“Maybe you should kiss it better," I teased with a suggestive look, my thumb brushing over the pulse point of her wrist as I held her hand.

I saw she was affected by my touch as her breath hitched. The fact that she wasn’t indifferent made me want to victory punch the air.

"Do you always ask strangers to kiss you?"The girl said with a coy look. Delightful.

At those words, my breath snagged in my lungs. My angel's eyes were full of playfulness as she angled her head, and I replied, "Only the ones that look like you. "

“And the hand holding?” she said with a sparkle in her eyes. I knew she was joshing, but I still felt like a clingy motherfucker.

I released her wrist and jammed my hands into the pockets of my pants. I needed to do something with my fingers before I traced her lips with my thumb; then my mouth, then my fucking tongue… You get the idea.

“Sorry. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a pretty face.”

Her expression lifted, and she looked at me with such glee it made me think she wasn’t used to compliments. How could that be when she looked the way she did?

Looking beyond her smile, I could sense this girl had a backstory. Maybe not as messed up as mine, but something was lurking behind that faultless exterior. A sadness?

Fuck. I suddenly wanted the entire world to disappear, or at least my past and present.

The only thing that was important to me just then was my future and the feeling that this girl belonged as part of it.

I had never felt such an intense reaction to another human being, not even my brothers or Ma when I first met them.

The connection between me and this female was instantaneous, and the funny thing was, I knew she felt it too.

She was the light to my dark, the good to my bad. My silver- fucking -lining.

“Have we met before?” she said with a head tilt, squinting at me.

“No. I would have remembered,” I responded, cracking my neck from side to side, my eyes drilling into her. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

The words meant to be crashed inside my head like a tidal wave. But at the back of my mind, in that place, the zone I locked in the dark for good reasons, I knew it was wishful thinking.

No one had the power to fix me, aka the unfixable , though many had tried. This girl would turn out to be no different.

Walk away, Hudson. Get real, you fucking loser.

I told my alter ego to take a hike. If that moment was only supposed to be short-lived, so be it. I would spend a lifetime in the dark, even if that meant only an hour in the light of this girl.

She made me feel alive. Fucked up and ridiculously rash I know, but I couldn’t fight it. And I didn’t even know who she was.

“What’s your name, sweetheart? I bet it’s also mysterious.”

“Mysterious?” she echoed with a puzzled look .

“Yes, like you,” I husked, rocking back on my heels. I noticed she’d dropped her backpack on the floor by her feet. It was pink and girly; sweet, just like her.

And nothing like you. My monster chanted in my ear.

As I clarified what I meant, her expression shifted, like a mask suddenly sliding into place. She glanced down, fiddling with the cuff of her white shirt.

Interesting.

She was like a puzzle; one I wanted to play with on all levels.

Taking a deep breath, she raised her chin.

“It’s just Molly,” she replied like her name meant nothing .

Just Molly? There was nothing ‘just’ about this girl.

“And you are?” she questioned, gesturing toward me.

I noted her nails were short and clean and again, natural.

Although against the rules, most girls in school wore false nails like fucking talons.

The type that did not feel good as they gouged into your back during rough, angry sex. Something I excelled at.

Shaking off those thoughts, I inhaled before replying, “Hudson.”

That sparkle reappeared in her eyes. “Like the river.”

She shook her head back, hair sailing like a silk curtain over her slight shoulders.

My eyes creased at her cute comment. “That’s right. So, you’re not from the States, but you know your geography?” I praised her with an impressed look.

She shrugged and stared up at me through thick lashes, natural, I might add, “Not really. I’m into films. I remember it from that Tom Hanks movie where he lands the plane on it.”

I nodded, leaning back against the shelving, “Ah, Sully,” I replied, naming the movie.

Her brow furrowed like she’d misheard me, “Sorry?”

“No, Sully,” I corrected her with a huge grin.

It was so wide it hurt my face. Realisation kicked in and we both chuckled.

Fuck me that felt good. I couldn’t remember the last time I had truly laughed.

Well, at something that felt worthwhile, unlike listening to my brother Micah belch the alphabet on cue.

Molly moved to lean her shoulder against the shelving so we mirrored each other's stance. It felt so relaxed and carefree.

I glanced around my feet. The books she’d knocked off the shelf from the other side of the stacks were piled all around us.

“So, I'm guessing you were after an encyclopedia?”

Molly grinned, “Yes. ”

Squatting down, I ran my fingers over the black leatherbound series that were now out of order, “Well, it looks like I can accommodate you. They're split between letters. Which one do you need?” I said, flicking her a glance.

Her face lit up, “The letter A, please.” Fuck me, she even looked good from the bottom end up.

Finding A, I grabbed the book with one hand and then stood, handing it to her, “Here you go. Knock yourself out.”

Molly placed a hand across her chest; it was such a feminine thing to do, “What?” she said with a feigned aghast expression.

I breathed and rocked backwards and forwards, gazing down into her eyes, “Oh, sorry, that wasn't a dig. That's just a saying, an expression,” I explained, making a strange gesture with my arms. Shit, I was suddenly nervous. I’d never met a girl who made me edgy; it was refreshing.

Her smile grew, “I know, I was kidding. We say that in England, too, you know.”

She was fucking with me, how charming was that? “Ah, I see. Fuck. OK, of course. So, why the encyclopedia?”

As I watched her, cataloguing everything I could, I leaned against the stacks and folded my arms. Molly looked down at the book I’d given her.

“It's for a personal project. I thought I’d get used to the differences between British English and American English. You have the encyclopedia, we have the encyclopaedia. It sounds the same but is spelt differently. I’m just trying to get my head around the differences.

You know, fries, chips, trunk, boot and all that stuff. ”

Now she had my attention. If she needed someone to tutor her in all things American, look no fucking further.

So, I didn’t look too desperate, I said, “OK. Why?”