Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20
Presley
T he cold drizzle soaked through my hoodie, but it barely registered. I was too focused, every nerve on edge as I waited for Hudson’s truck to pull up. The suspension, the chore list my mother had left, and Neil’s silence all weighed on me, but this—this felt like it mattered. This was for my brother.
Hudson’s truck rolled up, and I climbed in, brushing rain off my sleeves. I took in his outfit with a smirk. “All black?”
He grinned, shrugging. “Just playing the part. I’m a gangster, remember?”
“Right,” I said, buckling my seatbelt. “Real smooth, Hudson.”
He laughed, then his tone shifted, more serious. “Where am I parking?”
“Near Ray’s place. He’s a few houses down from Evan, and there’s a path through the woods we can use to get in. No cameras out back.”
He kept the truck in park, turning to look at me. “Pres, what are we really trying to accomplish here?”
I met his gaze, defiant. “Revenge. I’m done with this popularity contest crap.”
“The notebook?”
I nodded, feeling the weight of it. “Yeah. I want to wreck him. Make him feel what it’s like to lose.”
Hudson took my hand, his touch gentle against the storm brewing inside me. “You know you can’t expose what’s in there without hurting other people, too. Some of those girls…”
I swallowed, feeling the sting of his words. “I know. I’d never hurt the girls involved. They need to know the truth, that they’re being used by guys like Evan. They deserve to see who he really is.”
Hudson’s frown deepened as he watched me. “What’s your end game here?”
“To make him and his friends feel what they’ve done to others,” I said, my voice quieter now. “They’ve hurt so many people, Hudson. I was part of it once, until this year. It’s toxic. I didn’t even realize how bad it was until I pulled away.”
He gently cupped my chin, guiding my gaze back to his. “Pres, it’s never too late to make things right.”
His words cut through the layers of guilt, and suddenly, I felt raw, exposed. My voice cracked. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “You don’t need to apologize to me. Just… do better. Start over. The future’s wide open.”
I nodded, trying to keep my breathing steady as I blinked back tears, shifting the conversation before he could see more than I wanted to show.
“Do you know the way?”
“Yeah, I remember Ray’s place.” He put the truck in gear, the shift in focus just what I needed. I leaned back, resting against the creaky leather seat as the rain began to pour harder, streaking down the windows. Fall had been harsh this year, colder than usual, and the weight of everything made the chill sink deeper.
We pulled up a few houses from Ray’s, close enough to walk but far enough to keep our arrival quiet. Hudson cut the engine and glanced at me, a question in his eyes.
“You ready for this?” he asked.
I felt the small box in my hoodie pocket, fingers curling around it. It was ruthless, maybe even a little reckless. But Evan had hurt my brother. He deserved this.
“Yeah,” I replied, my voice steady. “I’m ready to fuck up his life.”
Hudson unbuckled his seat belt, hand hovering on the door handle. He looked at me, offering one last chance to back out.
“Let’s go,” I said, and we both stepped out into the rain, ready for whatever came next.
I wiped my feet on the mat just inside the back door, shaking droplets of rain from my hoodie. I tugged on a latex glove, glancing over at Hudson.
“You have more of those?” he asked, eyeing the glove.
I nodded, pulling a couple more from my pocket. “Yeah. My dad keeps a box in the garage for when he works on his Mustang.”
Hudson slid the gloves on as I punched in the door code. The lock clicked open, but an alarm immediately started beeping.
“Shit!” I hissed, darting to the panel to key in the code. The beeping stopped, and I exhaled in relief.
Hudson smirked, nudging me with his elbow. “Lead the way, criminal mastermind.”
I shot him a look as I fingered the small box in my pocket. Evan’s house had been newly renovated, and the dark wood floors gleamed as we made our way down the hall. I hesitated, wondering if we should ditch our shoes, but decided against it. If anyone came home, discarded shoes would give us away instantly.
“Upstairs. His room’s at the end of the hall.”
We crept up the curved staircase, our footsteps muffled on the plush carpet. Evan’s bedroom door was half-open, his bed unmade, a pair of black panties discarded on the floor. I clenched my jaw, ignoring them as I started rifling through his desk.
Hudson hovered nearby, bouncing slightly. “What do you want me to do?”
I pulled the small box from my pocket, handing it to him. “Set these up somewhere out of sight.”
He frowned as he opened it, revealing the tiny cameras. “Why are we putting cameras in here?”
“Because screw him,” I muttered, yanking open another drawer.
Hudson gently grabbed my arm, his expression serious. “Pres, what are you really up to? What did he do?”
I bit my lip, avoiding his eyes. Could I tell him? Would he lose it and go after Evan?
“Nothing,” I muttered, focusing on the drawer as I rifled through it.
Hudson tightened his grip, not letting me avoid him. “Presley?”
“It’s done. Doesn’t matter now.”
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me against his chest. “Tell me,” he murmured, his voice low.
I swallowed, meeting his intense blue gaze. “He was drunk.”
Hudson’s face darkened. “Did he hurt you? Force anything?”
“No,” I whispered, feeling my throat tighten. “But he took photos—ones I didn’t even know he had. I found them on his phone. Naked ones.”
His jaw clenched, his body tensing. “I’ll kill him.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you. I deleted them, but I don’t know if he sent them to anyone. His friends… they’d find that funny.”
Hudson’s fists were balled up, his eyes flashing with rage. “How’d he get them?”
“He must’ve set up a camera in his pool house. I didn’t even know. I changed into my bikini a few times and that must’ve been when he took them.”
I tapped the box of cameras with my nail. “That’s why I want you to plant these. We’ll tap into his Wi-Fi.”
Hudson frowned, a hint of worry in his gaze. “And what? Blackmail him with his own dirty tactics?”
“Exactly,” I said through gritted teeth, anger pulsing through me.
Hudson sighed. “Pres, don’t sink to his level.”
I exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Then help me find whatever else he’s hiding. There has to be something here. I’m just glad I never… I never gave him anything more.”
Hudson pocketed the box, nodding slowly. “If there’s more, we’ll find it. But let’s do this smart. I’ll get a scanner next time so we don’t waste any chances.”
“What do we do tonight, then?” I asked, rubbing my hands together, an idea forming.
Hudson raised an eyebrow. “Go easy on him?”
I smirked. “Nah. Small changes. Pranks. Make his life hell in tiny ways.”
He chuckled. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know… camp games,” I teased, nudging him.
“Camp games?” he asked, incredulous. “And when did you go to summer camp?”
I grinned. “Cheer camp, eighth grade. Pranks were half the fun. You ever heard of short-sheeting?”
Hudson rolled his eyes. “How the hell does that work?”
“Fold the top sheet up so they can’t slip their feet under. It drives people nuts,” I explained with a wicked grin.
He shook his head, laughing softly. “Too obvious. He’d know someone was in here. We have to be subtle if you want this game to last.”
I smirked, an idea sparking. “What if we… make it a dare?”
“A dare?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in intrigue.
“Yeah,” I said, leaning in close, my hand trailing up his chest. “Wednesday, let’s say… in his bed?”
Hudson’s eyes widened in mock horror. “In that? God knows what’s crawled through it.”
I laughed, giving his arm a squeeze. “Guess you’re not up for a dare after all.”
“Oh, I’m up for it,” he murmured, his gaze smoldering. “But let’s just say… I have my standards.”
He leaned in to kiss me, his lips brushing mine just as a loud bang sounded from downstairs. We froze.
“Who’s here?” Hudson whispered, his voice tense.
My heart raced. “I… I don’t know. We can’t be seen.”
We darted into Evan’s closet, pressing ourselves against the wall. Footsteps echoed from the hallway, followed by a woman’s giggle.
“Bert, are you massaging me or something else?” a familiar voice teased. It was Mrs. Braddock.
My eyes widened as I listened, covering my mouth to keep from gasping.
“What does your husband think of me showing up on the cameras?” the man asked.
“He thinks you’re my massage therapist,” Mrs. Braddock replied with a laugh. “Evan won’t be home for hours.”
They disappeared into another room, their voices muffled.
Hudson met my gaze, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. I shook my head, the image of Evan’s seemingly perfect family now shattered in my mind.
“Forget the camp stuff. We have to get out of here,” I whispered.