Page 65 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

HUDSON

Reed and I left the hospital feeling a huge sense of relief.

Micah must have been feeling better, considering he had bounced back into giant dick mode.

The dude didn’t like hospitals, who did?

He was acting up with the doctors and nurses like a huge douchebag.

Not taking his pills, fucking with all the buttons on his bed, demanding to be allowed outside to smoke, the list was endless.

We spoke about what had happened. He told us the same thing he told the police: that he had no idea who attacked him.

I grilled him repeatedly, desperate to know the punk's identity so I could ensure he had a slow, painful death. My suspicions were still stacked towards a kid from St Andrew’s.

I was intending to visit Fletcher Lewis.

I still had his jersey, and it was only right to return it.

And yes, returning part of his fucking football uniform wasn’t the only thing I’d be doing there.

I knew there was a chance that it wasn’t him. That’s why I would tread carefully.

The thought that the attack on Micah could have been related to the drugs had always been on my mind, but accepting that hurt like fuck.

When Micah explained that the cops had told him that no prints were found on the knife, that again pointed to Creed’s family.

A disgruntled student wouldn’t have thought to wear gloves when lashing out in the spur of the moment.

But I couldn’t process that right now, I had a job to do.

I thought back to Molly’s dad’s address to the school that morning. I’d only gone so I could check Molly was OK and collect the coke bricks. They were now covered by a tarp in the back of my truck.

After dropping Reed off at the house, I decided to dispose of the powder in the water at Narragansett Bayso that the shit dissolved. The thought of being pulled over with three kilos of narcotics in my car didn’t sit well with me, and so I drove slowly, taking the back roads to the coastline.

As I was stuck in traffic, my cell went off. It was on the passenger seat, and I swiped the screen and put it on speaker. Driving with your cell phone in your hand was also illegal in Rhode Island. And again, I didn’t need the cops crawling up my ass and adding to the bust of the century.

It was Storm. “Sup?”

She sounded like she’d been running. “Molly didn’t show for lunchtime practice. Tate’s having kittens, is she with you?”

My brow furrowed. “When was she due at practice?”

“Dur, lunchtime,” she snarked .

“Maybe she’s talking to one of the headshrinkers?” I suggested. “Have you called her cell?”

“Yes, dumbass. I’m not stupid. It goes straight to voicemail.” That was odd when Molly told me specifically to keep mine on.

Shit. Now I was worried.

“I need to pull over. I’ll call you back.”

I was passing through a town and saw a space by the sidewalk. Pulling up to the curb, I undid my belt and grabbed my cell.

As soon as I did, it started ringing. I never answered calls from unknown numbers, as it was usually someone selling shit, and I didn’t have the patience. For some reason, a sixth sense told me I needed to answer.

“Gage,” I said as I swiped to accept it.

And then fear tore through my guts. My anxiety levels tripled so fast and so much that I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

“Hudson, it’s Xander. Please don’t hang up. Just listen. They’ve taken Molly.”

I’m having a fucking heart attack.

“What the fuck?” I yelled, my hand gripping my phone so tight I heard it crack.

Panic was swirling through me.

What have you done, Hudson?

“Who has her. What the hell are you saying?”

My thoughts shifted to the drugs in the back of the truck.

“Listen to me. Focus. Do you still have them? The drugs?” Xander whisper-shouted.

I toyed with lying. Maybe he was bluffing. I needed to speak to Molly. She was probably just at school, and her phone died. Then Storm’s call came flooding back. Fuck!

“Tell me where she is!” I roared. If anyone touched a hair on her head, they would pay.

He just kept repeating the same thing. “The drugs Hudson. Do you still have them?”

And then I realized I was screwed. For the first time in my life, I had bitten off more than I could chew.

Creed wasn’t asking if I had them; he wanted to know if I still had them.

“Yes. I have them.”

I heard Xander’s sigh of relief. “Thank fuck. You need to bring them to my father’s club. Tell no one. No cops, or your brothers, just you. If you don’t come alone, they could hurt her.”

Hurt my Molly? I would kill every last one of those motherfuckers if they even breathed on her.

“Why should I believe you?”

“You’re not the only one who had a monster as a father. You’ve seen what my dad did to my face.”

Fuck. I had no idea that Creed’s face was fucked up by his old man. I’d assumed a disgruntled buyer had done that.

“Which club?”

He gave me the details. Creed then told me that his father had messaged Molly from a burner phone pretending to be him. The message said that I was in danger and that he needed her to meet him. And she’d agreed. That angered me. So, she had been snatched from school.

The thought of how terrified she must have been was like a knife to the heart, and I wanted to smash something.

I was screwed and so far out of my depth. You fucked up was like a continuous chant in the back of my head.

I need to get a grip. I’d lost my mother; I wouldn’t lose Molly.

Knowing where Chicago’s was, I agreed to return the drugs there, but only if they let me speak with Molly.

I listened as Xander rattled around. It sounded like he was walking. I heard him say something about me wanting to speak with her.

And then her sweet voice bled through the speaker of my cell. “Hudson?”

“Yes, baby. I’m here.” I touched the screen, wanting to reach for her, even though I knew that was impossible.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything,” she cried, clearly distressed. I rammed my fist into the dashboard. I hated that she thought I would assume she’d grassed me up.

“I know, baby, it’s OK. It doesn’t matter. I’m coming to get you.”

“No, don’t come,” she cried. “They have your friend too. Thomas, he’s…” The phone was then ripped away, and I roared, the sound echoing around the cab, making a woman on the sidewalk stare in as she trotted past.

So, they also had Tommo. Another jet of guilt shot through me. I’d also dragged my friend into this shit.

Thoughts of how I would ever make amends for my fuck ups had to be shelved. I needed to get to my girl.

And, for once in my life. I had doubts about my ability to deal with shit on my own. I wouldn’t call the cops, but I needed to speak to someone I could trust, an adult.

This is your shit, Hudson. Clean it the fuck up! My mother’s voice haunted my thoughts.

I would more than clean it the fuck up. I would make it right if I had to die doing it; so be it.

After listening to the instructions from the guy who had taken the phone away from Molly, I catalogued everything in my head as he rang off.

I then pulled out into the traffic and made my way back towards Newport.

The entire journey, I thought about Molly and what she was going through.

Tommo was also on my mind. They must have beaten him for the information, and badly, as he was no snitch.

Fuck, I hoped he was alive. I couldn’t be dealing with another death on my conscience.

He was only eighteen and had his entire life ahead of him. Shit, we all did. What a mess.

I couldn’t be thinking about my failings at that point, and I needed a plan, and fast. It took most of the drive to cement my ideas.

First stop. Backup. I just hoped he’d fucking listen.

When I got to my destination, there weren’t many people around, just cleaning staff and a few students here and there.

I walked purposefully towards his office and opened the door without knocking.

He was at his desk, bent over some paperwork. His head shot up when I entered, surprise lining his features. He looked tired, and I needed him to wake the hell up.

The man then pushed to his feet. He was tall and broad and knew how to handle himself, so I’d been told. Considering my ask, I fucking hoped so.

“Hudson?”

I took a deep breath, stared him straight in the eye, and said, “Sir. I need your help. But you’re going to have to trust me. ”

MOLLY

I had never given much thought to how I would die in the past. But if I had, I couldn’t imagine I would have believed that my game over would be in the back of a dodgy nightclub surrounded by criminals.

All the shitty crime dramas I’d binged on Netflix suddenly felt more believable.

Crazy stuff like that did happen in real life, at least it did in America.

I knew it was ridiculously na?ve to think that it didn’t happen anywhere else.

The world was a cruel place, I had been taught that when my mother was taken from me.

I wondered what she would think about my current situation.

Suddenly, Xander’s voice broke into my thoughts. I felt sorry for him. I knew he was just his father’s puppet. “I’m so sorry, Molly.”

His father, who had introduced himself as Anton, snarled. “Stop whining like a bitch. It’s your screw up that led us here, boy.”

We both ignored him as I asked. “Is he going to kill us?”

Xander’s bruised face screwed up. “He just needs the drugs back.”

“Stop fucking whispering and get over here,” his father boomed.

“If he gets the drugs back, it should be OK.”

“It should?” I said with a weak smile.

“Xander!”

Pushing away, Xander moved to stand by the awful man who had sired him. “Yes, father.”