Page 63 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

“Micah, can you hear me. Micah!” I cried, pressing firmly down on the area I assumed the wound to be.

I was too terrified to lift that piece of clothing I held and risk making things worse.

Regret for not listening all those times we’d been given first aid training at school shot into me like a bullet.

Just keep pressure on the wound.

My eyes met Molly’s. Her sweet face was sheet white. She was stroking Micah’s head, comforting my brother as his life was slowly bleeding out of his body.

No! This couldn’t be happening. Tears started to run down my face, stinging every wound I had received from that stupid fight.

Guilt seared through me like a hot poker.

This is your fault. Someone got to Micah when you were involved in your playground brawl.

Reaching out, I grabbed Molly’s hand and squeezed.

Who did this? St Andrew’s? If I found out that was the case, I would paint the fucking field with their blood.

Everything became a blur after that. The paramedics arrived, as did the police. They took Micah into the back of the ambulance, and Reed went with him. He was in bits as he held his brother’s hand, sobbing and broken.

Phoenix’s face was hard to read as he held a weeping Harper against his chest.

I had Molly tucked into my side as the police took everyone’s names. The smell of blood was in the air, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at the red-stained ground where my brother had fallen.

With one hand, I held Molly and with the other, the top used to stem Micah’s wound.

You couldn’t see the color as it was stained red, but it was a football jersey. The number on there was seven, and the surname on the back said LEWIS. On the front was the school’s name. St Andrew’s.

MOLLY

What had started as an amazing night ended in a nightmare. Micah was taken away in the ambulance with Reed. Once the police had our information, our parents were called. Phoenix had already taken Harper home.

My dad arrived, and then so did Bethany Sawyer. To my dismay, Hudson and I then got separated. I hated that. I didn’t want to leave his side.

We were told that the police would come to the house to take statements later that day. I was so tired, I could hardly keep my eyes open.

My father didn’t tell me off about the party. I told him that Harper and I would go for an hour. So, in theory, I hadn’t lied to him. I also hadn’t been drinking, and Hudson only had one or two. But I knew my dad was upset when he saw me with Hudson.

When we arrived at the house, I broke down in tears again, and my father pulled me against his strong chest. He whispered into my hair and told me that it would be OK.

But it wouldn’t, would it? What if Micah died?

His blood still stained Hudson’s top, and my arms were also encrusted.

My father told me to take a shower and then get into bed.

After around half an hour, he then came upstairs. He’d been on the phone with the police. It was almost three in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep.

Hudson had messaged to ask if I was OK, and I responded yes, even though I wasn’t.

I felt my father pulling the covers over me at one point as I lay there, thinking about how pale Micah’s dark skin had looked.

I hadn’t been the one to find him. The boys took so long to get to the car that Harper left the backseat to find somewhere to pee. On her way back, she saw two guys bending over Micah and then ran to fetch me. The girl had been terrified.

Micah’s eyes had been open, and he was awake at first, but what he said was garbled, and I couldn’t make it out.

On autopilot, I had fallen to my knees and put his head on my lap, telling him help was coming.

One of the boys who found him, Fletcher something, was already trying to stop the bleeding.

I was so relieved when I saw Hudson. He and his brothers took charge of the crowd, telling them to give us space. He’d taken my hand, squeezed it, and then had fallen apart himself. It felt like forever for the emergency services to arrive.

As we’d exchanged looks, it was apparent that we were helpless. None of us knew what to do.

We were kids, that’s what happened when you found yourself in a situation far beyond your comprehension.

A boy had been stabbed. And that boy was now in the hospital fighting for his life.

*****

I was grounded for the rest of the weekend, and my dad took my phone from me. He explained that the incident had gone viral on social media, and he didn’t want me to be upset.

I hoped Hudson would come and see me, and I left my window open. I so wanted him to climb up the side of our house like he had that one time, but he didn’t. I felt some reassurance that at least his other brothers and mother were there to support him.

My father was in contact with the principal of St Andrew’s, trying to establish if the stabbing had been connected. Maybe a hate crime due to Harbor Heights’ big win.

I gave the police my statement and asked if they had heard anything from the hospital. They explained that the patient had been stabilised but had lost a lot of blood. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

Dad had also spoken to Ma Sawyer and the hospital.

Late on Sunday, my father gave me my phone back, stating that I wasn’t to post anything on social media. I called Hudson immediately.

He had been worried about me, but explained he had stuff to deal with. They had all been to see Micah, but he wasn’t awake. The Doctors had given him a good prognosis, and I felt a huge whoosh of relief.

We spoke about the drugs he had taken, and he said he was going to get rid of them.

I suggested he turn them into the police, but he explained that he was worried about any repercussions.

Although misguided and breaking the law, Xander was just a pawn in his father’s business.

He explained that he had made a mistake and that he hadn’t realized the drugs were class A.

His friend Tommo had been the one to take them.

I asked where the drugs were, and Hudson confirmed they were hidden in the storage cupboard in the guy’s locker room at school, but he would get them moved.

A full school assembly was arranged for Monday morning so my father could address the students about what had happened.

Social media was suggesting that someone from St Andrew’s had something to do with the stabbing, and there appeared to be an appetite to hit back at them. You could tell from the messages that it was mostly hot air.

I knew in my gut that it was something to do with the drugs.

I didn’t say anything about my suspicions to Hudson, as I knew he would then blame himself.

Hudson thought someone from St Andrew’s was responsible, and I thought it was better for him to continue to believe that until we had more information.

The boy who had helped Micah was also from St Andrew’s. Through Facebook, I found out his full name was Fletcher Lewis.

When we got to school, my father left for his office and said he’d see me in assembly. I was dressed in my school uniform with my hair in a ponytail and felt fresher than I had over the last two days .

Waiting for Hudson to arrive outside the entrance, I fired off a few replies to Storm and Harper. They had both been messaging me over the weekend.

As Hudson pulled into the car park, butterflies fluttered in my stomach. He looked tired, and I noticed he wasn’t in uniform.

His expression lifted when he saw me, and I raced over and threw my arms around him.

“Any news?” I said as he squeezed me against his chest.

As he released me, he washed a hand across his face. “Yeah. He’s awake.”

The pent-up worry, confusion, and despair drained out of my system, and I exhaled noisily. “Oh, thank God. So, he’s going to be OK?”

Hudson was chewing the inside of his cheek. He stopped and then swallowed before replying. “Yeah. They say he’s going to be fine. But they are keeping him in for a few days.”

“You don’t look very relieved,” I said, running my hand down his cheek. His face was still clouded, and his mouth pulled into a thin line.

“I just feel so fucking guilty, Molly.” His voice cracked in the middle of that sentence.

From his comment, I assumed he’d changed his opinion as to who the perpetrator could be.

To me, it was more plausible that the stabbing would be connected to the drugs, especially considering Micah was the victim.

I questioned him anyway. “Why?”

“Because I wasn’t there for him,” he explained, clenching his fists by his sides. So, his guilt was due to not being there. Not because he’d taken the drugs. Hudson still suspected St Andrew’s, and I wondered why.

“It isn’t your fault. You can’t be there all the time.”

“If he’d died, that would have been on me. I wasn’t there for him, just like I wasn’t there for my mother,” Hudson growled and started pacing. He looked like a caged tiger, and I could see his temper bubbling beneath the surface.

“No, Hudson. We’ve talked about this. You are not to blame yourself,” I stated in a firm tone as I placed a hand against his chest.

I watched as he started to calm down before he laced his fingers through mine.

“Thank you for being there for Micah, Molly,” he rasped. “Your beautiful face was the last thing he remembered before passing out, and it gave him some comfort.”

The bell went, breaking into that moment.

I smiled. “He’s the brother of my boyfriend, what else would I have done?”

Hudson drew me towards him and kissed me. It was gentle and sweet, full of affection, and I sank into it.

As he drew back, he looked into my eyes and whispered. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Molly.”

His admission of that swept through me like a tsunami of joy .

Before I could reply, Coach Rutherford shouted from the main doors into the campus. “Gage, Miller, get your asses in the gym now!”