Beautiful Collide (Saints Of Redville #3)

Chapter 80

80

Molly

Tonight is the perfect night to sit outside.

It’s breezy out, but the stars are in full effect.

I sit on the blanket in the middle of the field with Hudson, my knees tucked into my chest.

It’s peaceful. So peaceful that I can’t believe a place like this exists in this world.

This must be what heaven is like.

Then why does my mind refuse to settle?

Maybe it’s the company? And what being with him means.

Hudson is beside me, leaning back on his elbows, his face tilted up to the night sky.

Normally, being near him calms me.

But not tonight.

Tonight is different.

It’s time.

I feel his attention even when he’s not looking at me, and the weight of what I need to say presses harder with each passing second.

“Hey,” he says softly, breaking the silence. “You okay? What’s going on?”

I stare out at the horizon, tightening my grip on the edge of the blanket. “I’ve been thinking.” My voice is barely above a whisper. “About . . . everything.”

He turns his head, and even though I can’t see him, I feel his eyes on me. “That sounds heavy.”

“It is.” I force a small, weak smile. “But it’s not bad heavy. It’s just . . . time.”

Hudson shifts to sit upright, his arms resting on his knees, his focus fully on me now. “Time for what?”

“To tell you.” The words catch in my throat, and I take a moment to steady myself. “About my childhood. About why I . . . struggle with certain things.”

He nods. “You don’t have to, Hex.”

“I know.” I tilt my head up to the sky and inhale deeply. “But I want to.” Hudson stays quiet, so I continue. “When I was thirteen, my parents died in a car accident. I was in the car—me, my mom, my dad. My dad was driving to pick up Dane . . . and he was drunk.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt. He just listens.

“I survived with just a few scrapes and bruises,” I continue, my voice cracking slightly, “but they didn’t make it. The worst part is that I remember it. The screaming, the sound of the car crashing . . . everything.”

Hudson’s hand finds mine, his warmth grounding me. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push—just holds on.

I swallow hard, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. “After the accident, my uncle became my legal guardian. He moved into our house with Dane and me, but . . . Dane didn’t stay long. Dane and him—” I pause, the words lodging in my throat. “They didn’t get along. Dane was eighteen but still in high school. He was barely old enough to take care of himself, let alone me. But when my uncle kicked him out . . .”

“Wait.” Hudson cuts in gently, his brow furrowing. “Kicked him out? What the hell? I never knew you lived with anyone but Dane.”

I nod, pressing my lips into a thin line. “Yeah. He didn’t like Dane challenging him or telling him how to take care of me. So he kicked him out, and I was left alone with him.”

Hudson’s hand tightens around mine, and I feel the anger radiating from him beneath his calm exterior.

“Dane fought for custody,” I say quickly, rushing to the next part before I lose my nerve. I can’t tell him all Dane had to do to get me, but I tell him what I can. “He worked multiple jobs, hired a lawyer—he did everything he could. But for months, while he was fighting, I had to stay with my uncle. And he . . . he didn’t want to take care of me.”

Hudson exhales sharply, his jaw clenching. “What did he do?”

I close my eyes briefly, forcing myself to say it. “To keep me out of his way, he used to lock me in the closet. Sometimes for hours. I don’t know if it was because he didn’t want to deal with me or if it was just easier for him. All I know is that I was alone. In the dark. And I couldn’t do anything about it.”

“Did he ever . . . um, hurt you?”

“He did. But mainly, he would just leave me in the closet.”

Hudson straightens, his eyes blazing with fury. “Molly . . . Jesus Christ.”

“It’s why I freak out in tight spaces,” I say quickly, needing to explain before his anger consumes the moment. “Why closets, small rooms . . . why it’s hard for me. Why I need to have control. But this week . . .” My voice softens as I look at him. “This week has been different.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve helped me more than you know,” I say, my words trembling but honest.

“How?”

“You didn’t push me,” I say. “You didn’t force me to confront it. You just . . . made me feel safe. Sitting in the barn, riding Gracie. Skating . . . I didn’t feel trapped. I felt like I could breathe.”

Hudson’s eyes soften, his hand still firmly holding mine. “Molly, I didn’t do anything special. You did that yourself.”

I shake my head, tears brimming in my eyes. “No. I didn’t. I couldn’t have. Not without you.”

He stays silent for a moment. Finally, he sighs, his voice low and raw. “I hate that you went through that,” he says quietly. “I hate that someone could do that to you. Whatever happened to your uncle?”

“He’s gone . . . Out of our lives. Most likely drunk somewhere.” Hudson narrows his eyes at my words. “Let’s just say he won’t be bothering me anymore.”

It’s not my story to tell. It’s Dane’s, and I need to respect that.

“I’m glad you told me.”

I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, forcing a shaky laugh. “You’re not going to use this as leverage to win a game of charades, are you?”

He laughs softly, the sound easing the tension. “Oh, absolutely. Next time you hesitate, I’m pulling the ‘you trusted me with your trauma’ card.”

I roll my eyes, laughing despite myself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yet you’re still sitting here with me,” he teases.

I glance at him, my heart pounding. “Yeah,” I say softly. “I am.”

He shifts closer, his hand never leaving mine. “You’re stronger than you think, you know that?”

“I don’t feel strong,” I admit.

“Maybe not yet,” he says. “But I see it. You’re not just surviving anymore, Molly. You’re living.”

My throat tightens, and I can’t bring myself to speak. Instead, I lean into him, letting my head rest against his shoulder. Hudson’s arm slips around me, holding me close as the stars shimmer above us.

For the first time in years, I feel safe.

Hudson turns to face me instead of the sky.

“You’re staring,” I murmur, breaking the quiet, though I can’t bring myself to look away.

“Yeah,” he says shamelessly. “I am.”

I turn my head to face him, and the edges of my lips tug up despite myself. “The stars are up there, you know.”

“So?” he says, his voice lower now, soft and teasing. “I’m looking at something better.”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “That’s so cheesy.”

“True, though,” he says, leaning a little closer.

The space between us shifts, the air thickening. His hand moves, brushing against mine, where it rests on the blanket. It’s the lightest touch, but it sends a ripple through me, my breath catching before I can stop it.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I nod, even though my heart is racing. “Yeah. Just . . . you make me nervous sometimes.”

His brow furrows slightly, though his eyes stay soft. “Why?”

“Because you make me feel things I’m not used to feeling,” I admit, my voice trembling slightly, the vulnerability of the words hitting me as I say them.

His lips curve into a small, reassuring smile, and his fingers lace with mine. His hand is warm, grounding, steadying me in a way I didn’t realize I needed. “You don’t need to feel that way with me, Hex.”

The silence returns, but it’s not empty.

It feels full.

Things are changing.

I can feel it in the air, and by the way he reaches his free hand and brushes it against my cheek, I think he feels it too.

“You’re . . . special.” His blue eyes lock on mine.

“Special?” What does that mean? “How so?”

Hudson laughs. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

“No. Just curious.”

“Beautiful. Caring. Amazing. Is that enough for you? Or would you like me to keep going?” he jokes.

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “I’m going to need you to create a PowerPoint presentation.”

“I’ll get right on it. But in all seriousness, you’re all those things and more.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re biased.”

“No,” he says, his voice steady and very serious. “I’m saying it because it’s true.”

His thumb traces along my jawline.

The feeling is sublime.

My pulse hammers in my ears, and my body buzzes with anticipation.

He leans in.

The world seems to still as I wait for his lips to brush against mine.

Then they do, and everything in my life feels complete.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, like he’s giving me the chance to pull away.

But I don’t.

Instead, I press closer, my hands sliding up to his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

He deepens the kiss until it becomes more urgent, more consuming.

His hands move to my waist, pulling me closer, and the warmth of his touch seeps through every layer of my being.

“I want you.” His forehead rests against mine.

“I want you, too.”

He pulls his mouth away from mine before he trails his lips down my neck, lingering at my collarbone.

It’s all too much.

The way he kisses me. The way he trails his fingers down my skin.

It feels like I’m hovering over my body, and he’s the only thing that tethers me to reality.

“Hudson.” My fingers tangling in his hair.

Hudson’s hands slide under my shirt, caressing my skin. Shivers run across my skin.

I lift my arms, allowing him to gently remove my top. Now, the cool night air allows the goose bumps to rise on my skin.

“You’re so beautiful.” His hands move to my back, unclasping my bra with surprising deftness. As it falls away, he gazes at me with awe.

“This is everything I ever wanted,” Hudson tells me, and I shake my head in confusion. “Us being together on the farm.” The words are supposed to make me understand, but instead, they confuse me more. How long has he dreamed of us together?

Has it been as long as I’ve dreamed of him? Since the very beginning, even when I wouldn’t allow myself to.

I gasp as his mouth finds my breast, arching into his touch. “Hudson,” I moan softly.

He lavishes attention on me, alternating between gentle kisses and playful nips that leave me breathless.

When he’s at my belly, he pauses. Looking up at me, he stops. Then he dazzles me with his heart-stopping smile as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my shorts.

I lift my hips, allowing him to slide them off along with my underwear.

Hudson kisses the inside of my thigh. “You’re perfect,” he murmurs against my skin.

Despite knowing what he’s about to do, I’m not at all prepared for the feeling when he latches his mouth around my clit.

For some reason, it feels different tonight under the stars.

I’ve laid myself bare tonight. That’s why. He sees the real me.

He licks and sucks me into his mouth.

Drawing gasps and moans from my mouth.

He never breaks his stare.

He watches me through every quiver, every moan. He watches me as I fall apart and then puts me back together.

Afterward, he gathers me in his arms, holding me close as I catch my breath. I’ve never felt so cherished, so completely and utterly loved.

“You okay?” Hudson brushes my hair back from my face.

I smile up at him. “Never better.”

In one fluid motion, I flip us over to straddle him. His eyes widen in surprise as I pin his hands beside his head.

“Molly, you don't have to—” he protests, but I silence him with a kiss.

“I want to,” I whisper against his lips. “Let me make you feel good too.”

I trail kisses down his neck as I unbutton his shirt, savoring the warmth of his skin. Hudson shivers beneath me, his breath catching as I explore his body.

I take my time. When I reach for his belt, Hudson gently grasps my wrist. “Are you sure you want to do this out here?” he asks softly.

I nod, smiling. “Yes, Hudson. I know what I want, and what I want is you.”

He lifts his hips, allowing me to slide off his jeans and boxers. I take him in my hand, stroking from root to tip. Hudson groans, his head falling back.

Slowly, I move to hover above him, and once I align myself with his dick, I lower myself onto him.

Hudson’s hands grip my hips, steadying me as I adjust to the sensation.

When I start to move, the world falls away until there’s nothing but us and how this feels.

I throw my head back as pleasure builds within me.

Hudson moves with me, our bodies finding a perfect rhythm.

“God, Molly,” Hudson groans. “You feel incredible.”

Suddenly, Hudson surges up, wrapping his arms around me as he flips us over. He intertwines our fingers, pressing my hands into the blanket beside my head as he enters me again.

We move together. Every thrust sends waves of pleasure through me, building and building until I’m crying out his name.

Hudson follows soon after, burying his face in my neck as he finds his release.

When it’s over, I’m lying against his chest, his steady breathing grounding me. His fingers trace lazy patterns along my back, and I tilt my head up to see him.

“You’re quiet,” he murmurs, his voice low, his lips brushing against my hair.

I smile against him, my heart full in a way I’ve never known. “I don’t have words.”

“Good ones or bad ones?” he teases, his tone light but full of affection.

“Good ones,” I say softly, tilting my head to meet his gaze. “Really, really good ones.”

He grins, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead. “Good.”

I shift slightly, resting my chin on his chest as I search his face. “You make me feel safe, Hudson. And that’s not something I’ve ever had before.”

His expression softens, his eyes glinting with an emotion I can’t name.