Chapter 36
thirty-six
FRANCIE
“What do you mean you think Hudson knows about us?” Skyler demands, one hand on her hip, the other holding her phone like she’s about to bludgeon it into submission. We’re on our third rest break of the trip. Turns out a gallon full of coffee and small bladders don’t mix.
On the other end of the call, Jesse starts stammering. “He just… asked a lot of questions. You know what he’s like. It’s like being grilled by the Spanish Inquisition. Except worse. And more Hudson like.”
“So what did you tell him?” Skyler asks.
“Nothing. But he knows. I know he knows. He knows I know he knows…”
I wince, because there are way too many knows in that sentence. It needs a good editor.
Skyler lets out a sigh. “Is Ayda okay?”
“Having the time of her life. I just let her paint my nails.”
“That’s nice. What color?” she asks, like we’re not on a two-woman mission to stop the idiots we love from doing idiot things.
Whatever they are.
“Purple glitter. With stickers,” Jesse tells her.
Her expression softens and I can see in her eyes that whatever irritation she’s feeling is no match for her love for Ayda. Or her brother, for that matter. “Tell her I love them already,” she tells Jesse. “And that I love her. And I want a manicure when I get home.”
“You got it.” Jesse pauses. “Be careful, okay? I love you, sis.”
“Love you more.” She hangs up and blows out a breath, her expression still warm as she tucks her phone into the side pocket of her purse.
“Okay, so my child is blissfully unaware that her stepmother is on a secret mission. But Jessie is apparently cracking under the pressure, and Hudson is playing dumb like it’s an Olympic sport. ”
I pass her another coffee, because yes, we like to refill after we’ve emptied. “So what now, Thelma? Shall we turn left to the Grand Canyon?”
She lifts it to her mouth and takes a sip. “Not yet. But we need to know what’s waiting for us. I’m going to call Hudson and grill him until he starts to squeal. And if he comes clean on what’s happening, I might only mildly ruin his life.”
I grin. “You’re all heart.”
She pulls out Jesse’s phone, grimacing as she types the code in wrong twice before it unlocks. And I lean against the hood of her car and stare at the horizon like it might offer me a clue.
I hate that I don’t have a phone to check. That mine is currently hanging out in a Liberty Island plant pot, living it’s best Captain’s House-adjacent life.
I wish I hadn’t left it there. It’s like I left my heart behind.
Because if Asher has texted, I won’t know. If he’s called, left a message – it’s all the same.
Maybe he isn’t ignoring me.
But deep down, I know he is.
And I’m halfway across the state chasing a man who might not want to be caught.
Skyler pulls up Hudson’s contact and presses call, and we both look at each other as it connects.
“Jesse? Skyler?” He sounds almost frantic.
I smile grimly at that. Because I’m starting to feel the same way.
“It’s me,” Skyler says, her voice ominously low. “Where are you right now?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that question?” he asks, sounding annoyed.
Skyler lets out a laugh that sounds somewhere between sweet and homicidal. “Oh baby, you can ask me whatever you want. But unless you want to spend the next six months sleeping on the sofa, I suggest you answer mine first.”
Hudson groans. “Sky…”
“Don’t you Sky me.” She catches my eye and I can see she’s enjoying this. “What’s going on? Why did you make me intercept Francie? Why isn’t Asher picking up when she calls?”
“Why don’t you ask Asher that?” He has the voice of a man on the edge. One who knows he’s about to be interrogated and really doesn’t want it.
“He won’t answer his phone,” Skyler tells him. “Seriously, we’re coming for you. And you should be super scared.”
“Believe me, I am,” Hudson mutters.
“Good. So spill. Why did you hot tail it to New York so fast? Why is Asher acting like a ghost with commitment issues?”
There’s a long pause. I can practically hear Hudson chewing on whether he wants to live to see another day.
Skyler takes a noisy slurp of her coffee.
“It’s complicated,” Hudson says finally.
Skyler snorts and I swear I see some coffee fly out of her nose. Like a caffeinated dragon. “Assembling IKEA furniture is complicated. Talking to your wife should be easy.”
“Baby, I…”
“Oh no. Not the babies.” She shifts her feet. “I hate it when you bring those out.” She looks at me. “You might want to close your ears for this,” she whispers, holding her hand over the phone mic.
I lift a brow. I’m not going anywhere. This is more fun than watching a rerun of Friends.
“I’ll give you five seconds to tell me what’s going on,” Skyler says to him sweetly. “And if you do, I’ll do that thing you like. With the whipped cream and bedless sex.”
There’s a spluttering noise on the other end. “Sky! Jesus, people are listening.”
“I warned Francie to close her ears.” She winks at me. “But she’s still here, probably taking notes. So what’s it gonna be, baby? Gorgeous bedless sex or six months of celibacy and me throwing every left sock you have away.”
Wait. Socks have sides? She just shrugs at me. And I have to press my lips together to stop from laughing. In this whole, stupid mess, I think I’ve found my new heroine.
She’s terrifying when she wants something.
Another beat of silence follows. Then Hudson groans like a man who knows he’s lost. “Okay, fine, I’ll tell you. But you have to swear not to kill anyone.”
“No promises,” Skyler mutters.
But it’s clear he’s about to cave. I lean in, my heart slamming against my ribcage, a thousand different scenarios running through my brain.
And not a single one of them prepares me for the truth I’m about to hear.
Hudson sighs so loudly it sounds like there’s a hurricane rushing through New York City. “Asher’s being blackmailed.”
Skyler stills. I do too.
“What?” I ask, my voice sharp enough for Hudson to hear.
His voice is low and scratchy, like it physically hurts him to reply. “It’s his ex. Annalise. You know her brother is the one who tried to steal the business from Asher.”
“And Annalise helped him,” I say. “While she was supposed to be in love with Asher.” I roll my eyes, because that bitch needs a slap.
Hudson grunts. “Yeah, well it turns out she’s behind the breach. She paid Shaun to infiltrate the business.”
Wait. What? “Shaun? As in Shaun the security guard?”
“Yep.”
The one with the baby. Who begged me to help him keep his job. I feel sick.
“She has videos of you, Francie,” Hudson says, taking my mind off sneaky Shaun and back to the issue at hand.
“Of me?” I repeat.
Hudson clears his throat, like he’d rather be anywhere other than having this conversation. “She somehow got access to the security servers. And all of Asher’s private files.”
Oh God. Those videos. My cheeks start to burn.
“She’s threatening to release them unless Asher signs the company over to her and her brother. He’s already got the agreement drawn up. The transaction happens tomorrow morning.”
I blink. “He’s giving away his company?” That doesn’t sound right. It’s everything to him. “He can’t do that.”
“He’s doing it to protect you.” Hudson sighs again. “It’s what he does. Takes everything on himself. Thinks he can solve every problem in the world.”
I feel the weight of what he’s done crack inside of me. Knowing that part of him still doesn’t believe I’d choose him if I knew the whole truth.
I can’t even speak. The rage. The hurt. It’s like a vice tightening in my chest. The memory of her coming up to speak to us in the restaurant flashes through my brain. What a bitch. I should have slapped her.
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I say, trying to keep a hold on my emotions.
“He thinks he’s doing the right thing, I guess.”
Skyler snorts. “Of course he does. That’s so stupidly Fitzgerald. You idiots always do this. You clam up the moment things get hard, like your vocal chords have unionized. This isn’t chivalry, Hudson. It’s stupidity.”
There’s a long silence. I’m pretty sure Hudson knows better than to say anything else. Then, because she’s as frustrated as I am, she ends the call without saying goodbye.
And all I can think about is that Asher is going to lose everything, because he won’t talk to me. Won’t tell me the truth.
Like I’m some kind of delicate flower who can’t handle it.
I take a deep breath. “Skyler, we’re going,” I say.
She glances at me. “Where? Home?”
I shake my head. “To Manhattan.”
Skyler does a fist bump. “Hell yes!”
“I’m done being protected,” I say, tossing my cold coffee. “If Asher wants to play the noble hero, he can do it with someone who likes that bullshit, because I don’t.”
She slides behind the wheel, then pauses. “Wait. Tracker.”
A second later she’s crouched with her phone flashlight, triumphant as she flings a tiny black device into the grass. “Suck it, Hudson Fitzgerald.”
She looks at me as the engine growls to life.
“Let’s go educate our men on what happens when you try to outmaneuver women with a vat full of coffee and a grudge.”
We peel out of the lot. Fueled by caffeine, fury, and just enough heartbreak to make it dangerous.
I grit my teeth, thinking about the video, the lies, the way Asher treats me like I’m breakable.
Like my brothers always did.
But I’m done playing the damsel. And Asher Fitzgerald is about to find out exactly what happens when you underestimate the heroine.
ASHER
“Come on,” Hudson mutters, staring at his phone. “Move, damn you.” He looks at me. “I don’t suppose you can hack into the security cameras at the rest stop?”
I shake my head. “That’s not how this works. I’m a security expert, not James Bond.”
Hudson groans and tilts the screen toward me. The little tracker dot of his SUV is still in the same place twenty minutes after Skyler hung up on him. At a rest stop somewhere off I-95.
“She threw the tracker, didn’t she?” he mutters.
West, who’s been unusually quiet since Skyler’s telephone rant, finally opens his mouth. “Of course she did. Maybe those two should be running a security company, instead of you idiots.”
“I don’t run a security company,” Hudson says. I notice he doesn’t deny that he’s an idiot, though.
Nor do I, come to that.
I let out a sigh and take Hudson’s phone.
“What are you doing?” There’s still that note of hope in his voice that I’m somehow going to be able to follow every security camera between I-95 and here.
“I’m calling them back,” I say. Because somebody needs to stop this lunacy. I’m hanging on by my last thread of sanity here. I never should have told Hudson about this. He’s weak when it comes to his wife. One look from her and he folds like a deck of cards.
The phone rings once, twice.
“Hello?” Francie’s voice is sharp. Tired. It makes my stomach twist.
Christ, I miss her.
“It’s me,” I say softly. “Don’t hang up.”
“Why would I hang up?” she asks. Oh, she’s pissed. “I’m not the one who ignores messages and calls and thinks they can fix everything by playing Batman in a business suit.”
I close my eyes. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you. I just…”
“What were you trying to do then, Asher? Because from where I’m sitting it felt a lot like you didn’t trust me with details about my own life.”
“I was trying to protect you,” I tell her, and even I can hear how weak it sounds.
She lets out a laugh. It’s not funny. It’s sharp and brittle and cuts right through me. “Wow, you and my brothers should form a club. You could call it ‘People who think Francie can’t handle her own shit.’ Meetings every Monday. Matching jackets optional.”
I put on my best cajoling voice. “Francie.”
“Just stop talking,” she tells me. “Here’s what you don’t understand. I don’t want to be protected. I want to be trusted. Your equal in everything. And I thought you felt the same.” Her voice catches. “I really believed you understood me.”
I try to swallow, but my throat is too dry. There are a thousand things I want to say, but not one of them feels like enough.
“I never meant to hurt you,” I say softly.
“But you did.”
Those words feel like a punch to the center of my gut. I hurt her. When all I wanted to do was make sure she was safe.
I open my mouth then close it again, because I can’t think of a single thing to say to make this right.
Skyler murmurs something that I can’t hear. Then Francie’s low voice comes back on the line.
“I’m hanging up now,” she tells me. “But just so we’re clear, if you sign that agreement, or let that woman win, you’ll be losing me as well as your company.”
Before I can respond, she hangs up. I stare at the phone for a minute, willing it to ring again. Wanting to call her back.
Hudson whistles low under his breath. “Well that went well.”
West leans back in his chair, arms folded. “I hate to say I told you so but…”
I don’t answer.
Because I’m all out of words. And I have no idea how I’m going to make this right.