Page 62 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

HUDSON

The shit went down when most people were trying to leave—droves of them walking home or heading towards their cars.

When everything went to hell, I was usually standing in the middle of it, but not then. The action had moved over to the parking lot, and it appeared they were starting without us. There must have been a dozen guys and some girls, possibly all from St Andrew’s, still getting loaded.

Once Molly and Harper were almost at my truck, I channelled my focus on the drama unfolding in front of me.

I couldn’t see where Nash was at; maybe he’d left, although it would be unusual for him to walk away from brewing trouble. The dude was a brawler.

Car engines were running, and music was blaring out into the night, all playing different tracks. It was just a headfuck of discordant noise. The other sounds were of people talking, screeching, laughing, and generally being way too loud.

My entire body was wired, the fuse begging to be lit.

I’d only had a couple of beers, but I was still stoked after the game.

It had never been my intention to get wasted, as I needed to be on my game for Molly.

I was also driving and never indulged overly when getting behind the wheel.

The fact that a drunk driver killed Molly’s mother had also been on my mind.

Nope. I had a good head on my shoulders. It was a shame you couldn’t say the same for the rest of my school. The whole area was screaming for police intervention. The place was a mess, with broken glass and litter strewn everywhere.

It was almost one in the morning, and my muscles were starting to ache. Flexing my shoulders, I scanned the area for Creed, wondering if he’d believed Micah about him not having his shit.

When I told my brothers that I had taken the drugs from his car, that wasn’t entirely true.

Tommo had taken the drugs at my behest. My reasoning: to fuck with Xander Creed and make a point.

If he wanted his stuff back, he had to agree to keep to his side of the city.

A few joints here and there were fine, but class A shit didn’t belong anywhere near my school.

Had I considered the possible fallout when I had hatched my plan?

No, I confess that I hadn’t. I’d seen Xander at the game, and his face hadn’t looked like it did tonight.

That meant someone had gotten rough with him, and I was responsible for that.

Did I feel guilty? Not really. You dabbled in that world, you got burned.

But if anything happened to my brothers or the girls, I would never forgive myself.

As my brothers and I threaded through the crowd, we got separated; Reed and Micah suddenly disappeared.

Luckily, Phoenix still flanked me as I walked over to where Josh was still arguing with Michael Dexter, Cole Smith, and Adam Summers—three key players who fought dirty on the field.

I’d headbutted Dexter last season. He was the linebacker who tripped me during a previous game at halftime.

A piss poor attempt to get me off the field.

I should have just left with Molly. I didn’t, and things got silly. As we made our way around the side of a parked Range Rover, I then spotted Nash, just as I thought. He was now right up in one of the St Andrew’s boys' faces.

“What’s going on?” I questioned, coming to stand beside my teammates.

It was all eyes on me. “This has nothing to do with you, Gage. So, fuck off,” Dexter grunted. He was big, but not as big as Phoenix. All three St Andrew’s boys’ side-eyed my brother with varying expressions.

“How’s the nose?” I replied with a smirk.

“Kiss my ass,” he shot back.

“That’s not very nice,” Nix said from my side, crossing his arms over his chest.

Nash shoved Smith by the shoulder. “Shannon and Ellie had their phones stolen tonight,” he told me, his eyes glued on the other school's kicker.

“I told you that has nothing to do with us, dick,” Smith snapped back. “And get your fucking hands off of me.”

“I saw you with Ellie’s phone when you were fucking around taking pictures of your cock with it.”

The three St Andrew’s players glanced at each other and sniggered; immature pricks.

With a smirk, Smith shrugged and bounced back. “I just wanted to remind her what she’s missing.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Nash belted, squaring his shoulders. Ellie Slater was Nash’s ex-girlfriend.

“What’s happening, boys?” another voice interrupted, as two more guys from St Andrew’s joined the group.

We were standing in an empty parking space between two cars, and it suddenly felt overcrowded. We were also outnumbered if it did kick off.

Over the hood of an old Chevy, I could see Reed and waved him over.

“Well?” number nine, from their team, repeated. His jersey identified him as Alex Jenkins, who played centre for St Andrew’s.

“Straker’s still pissed that his girl went down on me last season whilst they were still together.” Oh dear, not good.

Nash’s entire face turned red. “What the fuck did you say to me?” he spat, grabbing Smith by his jersey, bringing their foreheads together.

“Where’s Micah?” I rasped as Reed came to my side.

He shrugged. “Fuck knows, I thought he was with you.”

I didn’t hear what was said next, but fists went flying. I couldn’t even tell who threw the first punch. But that hell I mentioned broke loose.

It was push and pull and gnarly. Someone jumped on my back at one point, and Nix dragged him off before laying him out.

I almost hit Reed, but he ducked, and my fist shattered the driver's window of the car parked by my side.

“That’s my dad’s car!” A smaller dude who was trying to get past the drama cried.

“My bad,” I said with a lopsided smile before getting smacked in the face by Dexter.

The fight itself was pathetic in the scheme of things. Most of the time was spent rolling around on the floor, but it drew a crowd; some people sounded their car horns, and others cheered. And then in the distance, the sirens started, and everyone panicked.

If there was one way to break up a fight, it was the sound of the cops coming.

Car engines revved, as vehicles started to leave the lot whilst attempting not to mow people down. Everyone scattered.

Glancing around the area, I watched as Reed helped Smith to his feet. Josh and Nash both had bloodied noses and were standing with Dexter, discussing fighting techniques, like the best of friends, and Phoenix didn’t have a mark on him. He was leaning against a truck with a beer in his hands.

“Jump in at any point, Nix,” Reed barked with a glance at Smith. He then started to massage his jaw. “Fuck you got me good.”

Smith nodded his thanks, cradling one hand in the other. “I think I bent my finger back on your larynx,” he wheezed.

As I straightened, trying to get my breath back, I nodded at Phoenix. “Were you standing there the whole time?” I said to my biggest brother.

“Yep. I didn’t think it would have been fair to get involved. You guys fight like bitches.”

We all exchanged a look that fell between laughing out loud and disbelief.

The lot was almost clear of partygoers, and the sirens were getting louder.

“Honestly, we didn’t steal anything,” Adam Summers suddenly interjected. We all nodded, accepting him at his word.

“So, are we good?” Dexter added, holding out his hand.

“Yeah, man,” I took his palm in mine and shook it.

As we were about to head back to get our shit from the beach, there was a commotion in the top corner of the lot.

“What’s that?” Nix said from my side.

“Fuck knows,” I replied, trying to see past the parked cars.

A small group was gathered a few spaces down from where my truck was. And then one girl started screaming.

Blood rushed into my ears, drowning out what my brothers were saying as we started to move. My legs pumped from a jog to a run in seconds.

My phone went off, but I ignored it, sliding my body over the hood of a car, my brothers racing beside me. I say my brothers , but it wasn’t all of them, as Micah wasn’t there.

Where was Micah?

Then real panic kicked in, my entire body shaking as I saw Molly’s blonde hair. She was on her knees between two cars. Kids were gathered around, and I could hear several of them on their phones. The horror on the faces of those present would stay with me forever.

“Hudson!” Molly cried.

The realisation that she was cradling someone against her chest filtered slowly. Shock had created a barrier.

Harper was sobbing by her side, almost hysterically.

And then I saw the blood and my brother, Micah.

He had been stabbed.

*****

The mixture of emotions that churned through my stomach at the sight of my brother bleeding out in my girlfriend’s arms almost made me puke. Terror gripped my throat like an actual fist, squeezing , attempting to crack every bone in my neck.

I couldn’t fucking breathe, even though my heart was thumping so hard in my chest I was surprised it didn’t shatter something.

The siren we’d heard was an ambulance. Someone had called 911 after finding Micha on the ground, a bloodied flick knife beside him. The police also showed up.

Micah was barely conscious when we got to him.

I instantly fell next to where Molly was holding his head.

Assessing the situation, I took over from the guy who had a top pushed against Micah’s stomach, an attempt to stem the bleeding.

I didn’t recognize him, but he looked like he was about to pass out.

Why was there so much blood? It was everywhere.

“Molly, Harper? Are you hurt?” Fluid continued to soak the material I clutched. It was hard to see where it was coming from.

“No, we’re fine. We just found him like this,” Molly choked out with a sob.

“Has he been hit anywhere else?” I rasped. “Did anyone see anything?”

Everyone started talking over each other as Reed and Phoenix told everyone to make some space.

“The paramedics are here,” a guy yelled, waving his hands in the air.