Chapter 30
Chapter thirty
Hudson
The picture that asshole sent keeps flashing through my head no matter how hard I try to shove it away, leaving me wound tighter than a guitar string. It’s all I can think about while my tires crunch over dirt and rock as I pull up to the overlook next to Cullen’s car.
Trying to shake it off, I kill the engine and scan the area.
No sign of the guys.
They’re probably already checking out the campsite.
Still, the knot between my shoulders refuses to loosen.
I grab my pocketknife from the console—for some sort of protection—and shove it into my pocket before I step out of the Bronco and slam the door shut behind me.
Ella’s dead stare flashes through my mind again, my chest tightening.
Blowing out a breath, I drag a hand through my hair and glance toward the bridge.
I squint, focusing on something pale sticking through the beams.
My stomach drops.
It’s a hand.
I’m running before my brain can even catch up. Gravel slips beneath my shoes as I tear up the hill and vault over the railing onto the tracks.
Near the middle of the bridge, Cull comes into view, slumped against one of the support beams.
No.
No, no, no.
I skid to my knees in front of him.
His head lolls awkwardly against the metal post behind him, zip ties digging into his wrists as a red-and-blue bruise blooms across his cheek.
“Cull.” My voice cracks. I cup his face, shaking him hard. “Cull, wake up. Please.”
He groans softly, blinking into the sunlight. “Hud?”
Relief hits so fast it almost knocks the air out of me.
“What happened?”
I fumble with the zip ties, yanking uselessly. “Shit, shit, shit.” I pat my pockets, exhaling when my hand grazes the pocketknife. I flick the blade open and work it beneath the plastic, snapping the ties and freeing his wrists.
Cull’s staring at me strangely, unfocused.
My fingers begin to tingle, my chest starting to constrict. I fight back the panic swelling, trying to stay calm and get us the hell out of here.
“Babe, where are the guys?”
Cull mumbles something, so I lean closer to hear him better.
“It’s Matt,” he whispers. “Hud, y-you need to—”
“About fucking time.”
The voice slices through me, and I stand so fast I nearly fall.
Matt looms at the far end of the bridge, gun pointed right at Cullen.
Every muscle in my body locks.
“Matt,” I breathe, my brain struggling to rationalize what's happening.
He moves toward us slowly, gun swinging between Cull and me like he can’t decide where he wants it.
I take a step to shield Cullen.
Matt laughs under his breath, his head shaking back and forth like he’s trying to clear it.
My hands rise carefully, my pulse pounding so hard I can hear it. “M-matt… you don’t need the gun, man.”
“Yes, I do,” he bites out. “This is the only way now.”
“No, you don’t. W-we can talk.”
“The time for talking is over!” His voice jumps louder, making me flinch. He jabs the gun toward Cullen, then back to me. “Months, Hudson. Months I tried to get you to listen.”
Behind me, Cull sucks in a shaky breath.
“No one else has to get hurt,” I say quickly. “Okay? Just calm down.”
“Don’t.” Matt’s face twists. “Don’t tell me to calm down.”
The gun trembles violently.
He drags his free hand through his hair, pacing frantically. “I tried—I tried so hard, but everyone kept ruining it.”
His eyes snap to Cullen, hate flashing so fast it makes my blood run cold.
“He always ruins it.”
Cull shifts behind me. “Hud—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Matt screams, the sound echoing off the pine trees.
He jerks the gun at Cullen so fast my heart stops.
I take another step to block Cull.
Matt laughs again, breathless. “It’s always him.”
“Matt,” I say carefully, fighting to keep my voice steady while adrenaline claws through my chest. “Why are you doing this?’
For a second, he just stares at me. Then his expression softens, turning almost dreamy.
It makes my stomach churn.
“Because you were there for me.”
He points the gun vaguely toward me again, arm loose and careless.
“That game against Pine View? My parents didn’t come. Again.” He lets out a cracked laugh before his words dissolve into fragmented mumbling. “Self-absorbed. Divorce. Invisible…”
He starts pacing. Fast. Agitated.
“I was stranded there and you—you just told me to get in your car.” He shakes his head hard. “Like I mattered.”
His eyes lock onto mine.
“You were nice to me.”
My chest clinches.
“Then you kept doing shit.” His breaths are harsh, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Inviting me places. Talking to me. Sharing your water bottle at practice—fuck.” He presses the gun briefly to his forehead before swinging it back down. “Nobody does that unless it means something.”
The bridge creaks behind him, and all three of us flinch.
Archer stands near the tree line, hands raised, one broken zip tie dangling from his wrist.
“Matt, come on, buddy. Put the gun down.” Archer says carefully, voice shaking.
Matt spins so fast he nearly loses his grip on the gun.
Archer freezes.
Beside me, Cullen grabs my hand with both of his. I help him up while Matt’s distracted, his body swaying hard into mine the second he’s standing.
“Fuck you too.” Matt snarls at Archer. “Fucking pathetic lovesick asshole.”
He jerks the gun in our direction. “Move.”
Archer obeys, hands still raised as he edges toward us.
Matt takes a deep breath, jaw tight. “I knew there was something wrong with you,” he mutters. He taps the side of his head with the gun, grinning suddenly. “Recognized it because I’ve got it too.”
My stomach knots.
“That’s why I sent the texts. Needed you to know somebody cared. Somebody actually saw you.”
He starts pacing again, uneven and restless.
Matt’s expression twists as he looks at Cullen. “Then this asshole started getting your attention.”
He cocks the gun.
Cull stiffens against me.
I tighten my grip around him, his muscles locked underneath my arm.
“Matt,” I beg, pulse hammering so hard it makes me dizzy. “Please put the gun down.”
“NO!”
The scream explodes across the bridge.
He yanks at his hair with his free hand, pacing faster now. The gun swings wildly with every movement.
“I’ve fought so fucking hard for you!” he shouts. “Nobody ever listens—nobody gets it—”
“You’re fucking crazy,” Cullen spits.
Everything stops.
Matt turns slowly.
The gun snaps toward Cullen.
BANG.
The shot deafens me.
Metal shrieks overhead as the bullet slams into one of the beams above Cullen’s head, rust showering down around us.
“What the hell!” Archer stumbles backward.
I tackle Cullen to the ground on instinct, covering him with my body while my ears ring violently.
Matt lets out this strangled, animal sound.
Then he starts pacing again.
“I’m not crazy,” Matt mutters.
He smacks the side of his head with the gun once more.
“I’m devoted.”
His eyes find me—wild and unfocused.
“So imagine how it felt,” he says, voice cracking, “finding out you were fucking him.”
Matt slumps against the railing, breathing hard.
I force myself to speak even though my chest feels tight enough to crack.
“How did you even know?”
“I always knew.” Matt laughs under his breath. “Straight guys don’t look at other guys the way you did.”
Nausea swirls in the pit of my stomach.
“You and Cullen have been coming to my river for years.” His words start tumbling out faster. “I’d come here when my parents would scream at each other. I’d watch you two from the trees.”
His eyes dart between us.
“You had everything.”
The gun trembles harder.
“The friendship. The touching. The fucking understanding.” He shakes his head. “Then that night happened, and suddenly you were kissing him like—like.” He chokes on the words.
“My heart felt ripped out of my chest watching you give him everything that was supposed to be mine.”
Matt scrunches his eyes closed.
“So I tried harder.”
The gun flails as he paces.
“The texts. The pictures. The letters.” He laughs, but it’s bitter. “Every time I got your attention, somebody stole it back.”
His eyes flit between all of us too fast.
“Always somebody in the fucking way.”
His stare lands on me again.
“Do you even realize all I’ve done for you?”
Cullen’s grip tightens around my waist so hard it hurts.
“It started with cutting Cullen’s breaks.” The words are a growl, his head shaking. “If your fucking parents hadn’t shown up that night…”
His eyes turn to us, sharp. “Fucking lucky you walked away from your car accident, too.”
The air leaves my lungs in a harsh whoosh.
“I took care of Ella.” He scowls. “Obsessive fucking junkie.”
“Ella didn’t deserve to die,” I choke out.
Matt’s eyes snap to me. “She hurt you.”
“You hurt me!” I snap.
“It was worth it to get rid of the trash.” He drags a hand through his hair. “At least Hadley was easier.”
Heat flashes through me so fast my vision blurs.
“The picture at lunch…” Cullen breathes.
Matt rolls his eyes. “Cloud storage isn’t hard to hack if you have half a brain.”
The gun swings between us, like he’s playing eeny meanie miny moe.
“I just kept pulling people away from you.” He smiles dreamily. “One by one. Smaller circle. More room for me.”
“Fucking psycho,” Cullen mutters beside me.
The gun snaps in Cull’s direction.
“There’s still one thing left—.”
Archer lunges.
He slams into Matt hard enough to send both of them crashing into the wood planks.
The gun goes off.
The shot blasts into the air as they hit the planks in a tangle of limbs and fists.
“Motherfucker,” Archer screams, swinging his fist. Matt snarls and swings back.
Then Archer’s knee connects with the gun.
It flies from Matt’s hand and skids across the wood.
I dive for it.
Behind me, Cullen shouts something I can’t make out over the ringing in my ears.
My fingers brush cold metal—
A grunt sounds behind me.
I turn just in time to see Matt shove Archer off of him. Archer crashes hard onto the planks, blood spilling from his nose.
I hesitate a second too long.
Matt grabs my ankle and yanks hard.
My back slams against the ground hard enough to knock the air from my lungs.
Matt crashes onto me a second later, knees pinning my hips, hands grabbing at my shirt.