2. Hudson
Chapter 2
Hudson
“ H e’s back.”
I struggle to sit upright and gasp, clawing at whatever is touching my nose, face, and chest.
“Relax, Hudson. You’re safe now.”
Blinking into the bright light overhead, I turn my head until a woman’s kind face fills my vision. She’s wearing what looks like scrubs and pulling my hands down.
“Where am I?”
“The hospital,” she says. “I’m Dr. Lewis. You’re in the emergency room.”
“Why?”
“You were injured, but we can talk more later. Right now, we’re making sure you’re stable.”
Nodding, I look past her to see two men standing at the foot of my bed. One is wearing a police uniform while the other has a dark suit on with a badge hanging around his neck. Why are the police here? Why am I in the hospital, and why the fuck can’t I remember anything?
“X-rays are back. Mild concussion,” someone says.
I turn my head to the left to see a nurse adding a bag of clear liquid to an IV stand. Then I notice my blood-soaked shirt on the floor behind her.
“He’s stable enough to talk to for now,” Dr. Lewis says to the police officers, “but try not to get him too excited.”
Seconds later, all the activity dies down and the medical staff exit, leaving me alone with the police.
“Hi, Hudson.” A dark-skinned man steps forward. “I’m Detective Perry and this is Officer Ortega, Salem Police Department.”
“Do you know why I’m here?”
“We do,” Detective Perry says. “You don’t remember anything that happened?”
I exhale slowly, aware of the sharp pain in my side. Closing my eyes, I search my memory. My head is cloudy at first, but then, like a storm blowing out, the memories rush back, slamming into me, and I yelp.
“Chester,” I grunt.
Detective Perry nods. “Yes. Chester Dillon. We believe he attacked you.”
I shudder, recalling his hands around my neck and his cold eyes staring down at me as he tried to end my life. “Fuck.”
Detective Perry frowns, moving slightly closer. “Your neighbor called the police when she heard you yelling for help.”
“Melody?”
Officer Ortega nods. “Yes, that’s her.”
I try to lift my arm to rub the pain radiating in my chest, but it’s too difficult with all the shit hooked up to me.
“Where’s Chester?”
“Deceased,” Detective Perry says. “From what we saw at the scene, it was a self-inflicted gunshot wound. Based on the note we found, it looks like he was planning a murder-suicide.”
“Was I shot?”
“No,” the detective says. “We believe he beat you up and strangled you.”
Images of Chester’s fist flying at my cheek rush back, and my eyelids flutter. It all comes back, leaving me breathless and nauseated for several seconds.
Him kicking me as I huddled on the floor, begging for my life.
His fists pummeling my face and chest.
His laughter as he stole my breath with his hands.
“Why didn’t he shoot me?”
Officer Ortega frowns. “It was personal. We often see this with domestic abuse. Stabbings, stranglings, beatings—a more hands-on method.”
The glint of a silver blade bounces at the fringe of my memory. Then the sirens. Chester at the window as I tried to crawl to the door. I don’t remember anything after that.
“He’s really dead?”
Detective Perry nods. “He’s really dead. Your neighbor wasn’t sure what your relationship was with Mr. Dillon. She said you’ve only lived there a couple of months.”
“Yeah. I dated Chester for six months almost two years ago.” I laugh darkly until I cough in pain. “Fuck.”
“Take your time,” Officer Ortega says.
After taking a few seconds to compose myself, I continue. “We met on an app. The first few dates were fun, but I started to see this edge of something. Almost like rage he just lived with. He got really controlling and jealous, and one night after a date, he punched me because he thought I’d flirted with the bartender. Obviously, I broke it off.”
“He didn’t take the hint, I’m guessing,” the detective says.
“Not even kind of. He lost his shit. Started stalking me. Showed up three times while I was out with friends or on a date. I ended up moving, but he found out where I lived.” I clear my raspy throat. “He’s been making my life hell for sixteen long months.”
Officer Ortega is writing down everything I say in a notebook. “Do you remember what happened when he showed up today?”
I close my eyes again, waiting for my brain to piece it all back together. “Shit. He was already inside. I came home from a jog and I went to my kitchen to make a protein shake. The next thing I know, he had his hands around my throat and was dragging me to the floor.”
“We found the front door pried open,” the detective explains. “He was careful not to make it too obvious.”
I scoff softly. “I have no idea why he was so obsessed with me. We barely dated.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Dillon had a pattern of this kind of behavior,” Detective Perry says. “He’s had numerous protective orders filed against him and three years ago served sixty days for assaulting his then boyfriend. He’s been fired from two jobs, once for aggressive behavior and once for throwing a chair at his manager.”
“Jesus,” I whisper. “How did I not see the red flags?”
“You did, but people like that are very good at hiding them,” Officer Ortega says. “It’s how they lure people in. For whatever reason, he decided to end his life today. At least he won’t be able to hurt you again.”
“He thought I was dead,” I whisper. “He wanted me to be dead.”
Both men nod, their expressions somber.
“Passing out is likely what saved you,” the officer says.
“That and how quick your neighbor was to call law enforcement,” Detective Perry adds. “We’ll let you rest, and if we find out anything else pertinent, we’ll let you know.”
I nod, deflating as they leave. I can’t believe that loser tried to kill me. For what? I shouldn’t be happy that he’s dead, but I am. He’s made my life hell for over a year, and at least now I’m done with him.
I owe Melody a huge favor. Without her, he could’ve killed me and no one would’ve been looking for me for a long time. Sobering when you realize you could die and no one would notice. That’s how life is now when you work from home with distant family and friends who live out of state.
I don’t regret moving to Mass though. It’s been great except for one huge mistake. But it’s over now. I’ll never have to see Chester Dillon again.
Thank fuck.