Page 66 of The Sweetest Cruelty: Hudson (A Sawyer Brothers Story #1)

I had been shoved into the chair I was now sitting in.

There was a tall man behind me and another who stood behind Hudson’s friend, Thomas, or Tommo, as they had called him.

He was black and blue, and his mouth and nose were covered with congealed blood.

One of his eyes was swollen shut. I was thankful that I hadn’t witnessed him being beaten, or I probably would have thrown the contents of my stomach up.

The guy behind me had his long hair tied up in a bun. He was olive-skinned with black hair, a mean-looking face, and a hooked nose. The man with Tommo was called Sultan, and again, he had tanned skin and dark features .

Xander’s father was tall and thin with pale skin and black hair. He wore a suit and looked like a businessman, but filled it out like a regular scumbag.

The room we were in was large, the floor was wooden, and the walls were black.

It looked like it used to be a nightclub due to the spotlights in the roof, half of which weren’t working.

There was a stage in the corner and what would have been a DJ’s booth.

It now looked like an old room used to store things.

There were tables and chairs stacked around the sides.

I could see chewing gum stuck to the bottom of those that were upended.

There were no windows, just a fire escape in the corner, and there was very little air. I felt hot all over.

Tommo was on a chair with his hands zip-tied behind his back.

I fleetingly wondered if Storm would have gone to my father when I failed to turn up at practice. Or hopefully, the counsellor had raised the alarm when I failed to turn up for my appointment.

When I had gone to meet Xander, his car had been there, but Sulton had been in the driving seat.

Both he and man-bun had left the car and then bundled me into the back.

The windows were blacked out, so my yelling and banging on the window hadn’t helped during the journey.

Plus, man-bun had been sitting next to me.

I remember the acrid smell of his aftershave.

I had stopped crying. Telling myself that help was on the way and hoping that Hudson would bring the police with him.

I knew he wouldn’t. Hudson hated the cops.

So far, I hadn’t seen any weapons, well, apart from Anton’s Creed’s henchmen’s big fists. I’d heard that everyone in America had a gun, but they hadn’t flashed any weapons at me, yet. I suppose they wouldn’t need to. I was one little girl against four bad guys.

My eyes narrowed as Xander spoke with his father.

Their whispers became heated, and then Anton backhanded his son across the face.

The sound echoed around the space, but neither of his men flinched.

They must have been used to seeing that all the time.

Xander’s cheeks and jaw were still bruised from when he’d come to warn us at the beach.

And then I heard voices which drew my focus to the black door they had brought me in through. I pushed to my feet, recognising Hudson’s tone, but was shoved back down with a hand on my shoulder.

“Sit still, princess,” man-bun said, his garlic breath wafting though my hair.

I shrugged him off, my eyes scanning the door.

And then it opened, and Hudson came in. Alone.

My spirits dipped. His eyes met mine, relief pooling into their depths .

“Are you OK? Are you hurt?” he shouted over.

I shook my head so he would know I wasn’t harmed.

“You can have your sappy reunion when we’ve settled business,” Anton Creed sneered, pushing off the table and walking towards Hudson.

“Tommo?” Hudson questioned as he saw his friend.

The beaten man lifted his head. “Sorry, man.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hudson said.

“Enough!” Creed barked.

Hudson was standing in the middle of the wooden flooring, an old dancefloor I suspected. He looked tall and in complete control. He was wearing the jeans and tee he’d worn to school earlier that day. In his hand, he was holding a black gym bag.

The drugs. Thank Christ.

“You wanted your drugs, now let them go,” Hudson said, his head held high. He then threw the bag at the feet of Creed.

Anton then clicked his fingers towards Xander. “Check it’s all there. You can count, and so you shouldn’t fuck that one up,” he muttered in a cruel voice.

Holding his bleeding nose, Xander walked over to the bag. He exchanged a look with Hudson before squatting down and checking the contents.

“There’s only one brick here. There should be three,” he said, his expression horrified. His eyes met mine, and I swallowed.

“Get up, take it over there. Where’s the rest, sunshine?” Anton said, addressing Hudson.

“You get the other two when you let them go,” Hudson stated with a flick of his head. “Let’s call it a brick per person.”

“Quite the negotiator, aren’t you, kid? How about I put a bullet in your friend's first?” Shit, maybe he did have a gun.

“Then you’ll never get them back, and the real villain who the drugs belong to will come for you.”

A smile spread across Anton’s features, and he glanced towards his son. “You see this, boy? This is what a real man with balls looks like.” Again, taunting Xander for not measuring up.

I felt sick, and a wave of dizziness. Hudson made a move towards me, but man-bun shot around to stop him. “Alright, sweetheart. Stay back.”

Hudson held his hands up and moved away. I raised my fingers to say I was OK.

My hair had come out of its ponytail, and strands were falling across my face, and my uniform was a mess. He probably thought they’d roughed me up when they hadn’t. Not really. Sweat was running down my spine as I watched the two men participating in a staring contest.

“The drugs are mine. I’ve sold them, but I haven't yet received my money. Tell me where the rest is, or Rafe here may have to convince you the hard way.” So, man-bun was called Rafe.

Rafe started to circle Hudson, like a shark does its victim. “My old man used to know yours. He was a real cunt if I recall,” Rafe drawled nastily. I noticed his teeth were yellow.

Hudson stiffened, and I knew they were baiting him on purpose, trying to get him to lose control.

The topic of his father would no doubt be a trigger.

“As I said, let them go and I will tell you where the rest of the drugs are,” he said, in a firm voice. I could see his fists were clenched at his sides, and a muscle started to tick in his jaw.

And then something unexpected happened. Rafe stopped in front of Hudson, leaned towards him, and confessed, “I’m the one who stuck your little brother.”

“What?” Hudson snarled, his face switching between confusion and dread.

“Yeah, that black bastard. Cried like a pussy as he begged for his life, and I only stuck him once.”

And Hudson snapped . He lurched forward and head-butted Rafe in the face, the big guy's nose busted open, spraying blood onto the floor.

It was so vile that I dry heaved as I fell off the chair and scrambled back on my bottom away from the two men.

And then chaos erupted as the two guys started to throw punches, wrestling each other, kicking, elbows, and fists flying everywhere.

Chairs were knocked over, and I glanced at the others in the room.

Tommo was struggling against his restraints, and both Creed and Sulton just watched.

Xander was pressed against the wall, unsure of what to do.

At one point, Sulton made a move to join in, but Creed held his hand up to stop him.

“No. Let it play out. Callum’s boy has balls of steel,” he shouted over the noise of the fight, clapping his hands together. Callum? Was that Hudson’s father’s name, and how did Anton know that?

Eventually, Rafe had Hudson pinned on the floor. Both their faces were battered.

“Get him to his knees and you, boy, bring the girl over,” Creed said.

I rushed past Xander and threw myself at Hudson, and his arms came around me automatically .

“Please, Hudson, just give them what they want.”

“Molly, I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t care. I just want it to be over.” I was then dragged away as Anton Creed’s fingers snagged my upper arm and tugged me up. I was shoved roughly into Sulton’s arms.

Looking over my shoulder, his sneery face lit up as his beefy hands came around me. He grabbed the back of my neck, and the pressure forced my Tree of Life necklace into my skin.

“Get your fucking hands off her!” Hudson yelled, pushing to his feet.

“I will ask you once more, where are the rest of my drugs?”

“OK, OK,” Hudson said, his voice suggesting he was winded. He then held up a finger. “Just give me a minute.”

I struggled against the guy called Sulton and looked down at Tommo, who was still trying to get free of the zip ties.

And then, Hudson smiled sadistically. Fucking smiled? Even with a busted lip and bashed-up face.

He then raised a finger, and the other arm reached back towards his pocket, where he pulled out his phone.

Holding it to his ear, he said. “Bring the last two bricks up. Mr Creed wants all his drugs returned.”

Anton Creed walked up to Hudson, a frown on his crabby face. “Why the fuck wasn’t he searched?”

I hadn’t seen the other man by the door, he was bearded with a big belly and bald head, very bouncer-like. “He’s a punk ass kid. I didn’t think he’d have any weapons. So, I didn’t think I needed to.”

“He could have been wearing a wire, you fucking imbecile.”

Hudson’s face then became smug as he held the phone in the air, in front of Creed’s face. “Welcome to the twenty-first century. I don’t need to wear a wire. It’s called Apple, dickhead.”

Shock swept across Creed’s features, and then fury replaced it as he ripped the iPhone from Hudson’s hand.

Scanning the screen, relief drained away some of his anger as he lifted his head, darting Hudson a look. “It isn’t recording, you fool.”

“Nope. But if you look, I’m on call. ”

Creed tapped the top of the phone. “Say hello,” Hudson went on. “You see. I’m not recording, but the guy on the other end of that is.”