Chapter 7 Willow
WILLOW
Not for the first time in my life, I wonder what the fuck I’m doing as Hudson turns out of the parking lot and we leave my Ford behind. He takes back roads, winding through residential streets at an easy pace, not drawing attention to us.
I’m still not sure if he’s taking me to the police station or helping me like he said he would. I steal a glance at his profile as he drives. His square jaw is set in a determined line, and he keeps his eyes on the road ahead.
All I know is that since he bundled me into his car, the heavy lump in my stomach that formed when I started getting threatening texts feels a little less tight, and I can breathe again.
After I ditched Janelle and the others this morning, I messaged the unknown number and arranged the package pickup. I figured if they thought I was cooperating, I would buy enough time to get out of town.
My brain was too frantic to think past that. Now that Hudson’s here, the relief of sharing the load has me sagging in my seat. I’m not sure what resources he has that can help, but he’s a hell of a lot calmer than I am.
It’s just been Tyler and me since we were kids, so I’m used to making decisions on my own and taking action, even if some of those decisions weren’t the right ones. It’s nice to have someone else take charge. Someone competent and confident.
The road takes us out by the airfield, and we drive to a row of buildings on the far side. Hudson pulls up outside a building with a logo that reads Bedrock Security.
“I’ve got some friends who can help,” Hudson says before getting out of the pickup.
I watch him stride toward the building, wondering who the hell his friends are and what they do at Bedrock Security. This place could be some kind of cop shop, or it could be my salvation.
He turns to glare at me and lifts his shoulders as if to say, “Are you coming?”
I’m here now, and what other choice do I have? I have to trust him.
I follow him into the building, and we pass a woman at the reception desk who smiles at Hudson.
“Is Marcus in?”
Her expression drops when she sees his expression. “He just got back. In his office.”
We go through a main office area with a few desks, and Hudson leads me down a corridor. He knocks on a frosted glass door and pushes it open just as a man calls for him to come in.
An olive-skinned man with dark stubble looks up from his desk and frowns when he sees us. His gaze swings from Hudson to me and back to Hudson.
“Is this why you were speeding through town a few minutes ago?”
His vowels are long, and he has a mischievous smile despite his words. I would’ve put him as Australian if it weren’t for the cartoon map of New Zealand stuck to the back of his wall.
He sees me looking. “A gift from my sister. Doesn’t want me to forget my roots.”
His smile is warm, and I like him immediately. He’s not uptight like Captain America, who’s pacing the office with a scowl messing up his fine features.
“We need help,” Hudson says, and the man, who I take to be Marcus, becomes serious immediately.
“Take a seat.”
Marcus closes the door behind us and perches on the front of his desk.
“This is Willow,” Hudson introduces as he sits. “She’s one of the crim—” He glances at me and then back at Marcus. “She’s doing community service at the center.”
Marcus offers his hand, and I shake it, firm and purposeful, like the men I’m wedged between.
“We have a situation.”
Marcus leans forward. “Go on.”
Hudson explains the situation in clipped tones while Marcus listens intently. When Hudson is finished, I expect him to laugh or call the cops or dismiss me back to my work crew. But he does none of that.
He leans back with his hands behind his head, taking this as seriously as Hudson. “Tell me what you need.”
“First thing, hide her car.” He takes my keys out of his pocket and throws them to Marcus. “Lock it up until all this blows over.”
Marcus pops his head out the door and calls to a man in the main office. He speaks quietly to him and hands over my car keys.
When he returns to the office, he takes a seat behind his desk. “Done. What else?”
Hudson turns to me. “Give me your cell phone.”
I take it out of my pocket but pause before handing it over. “Why? What are you going to do?”
“They have your number, they have resources, and they can track you.”
He’s right, but that’s my line to my brother. “I email my brother. That’s the only way we have contact.”
Hudson looks to Marcus. “We’ll need a clean laptop. And a burner phone.”
“No problem.”
My head spins. They’re talking about burner phones and clean laptops as if this is all a regular occurrence. I put my head in my hand, and Hudson takes it as distress about the phone.
When Hudson squeezes my arm, it’s the anchor I need to stop me spinning. “We need to destroy your sim. It’s the only way to be sure they aren’t tracking you.”
It makes sense, but it’s still hard to hand it over. Finally, I drop it into Hudson’s palm, and he pops out the SIM card. Marcus hands him a pair of scissors, and he snips it in half, then drops it into a drawer.
“Sorry, Willow. It’s the only way.”
It makes sense, but everything is happening so fast. I can’t get my eyes off Hudson as he and Marcus discuss burner phones and fake plates and backup teams. My head is spinning, and I feel like I’ve jumped from one world I don’t understand to another.
I stare at Hudson and wonder who the hell he really is.
“And we need a safe place to stay.”
Marcus nods. “I’ve got a safe house,” he says, drawing my attention back to the conversation.
“A what? A safe house?” I’ve only ever heard about safe houses on television dramas. It’s where people go when they’re in witness protection or spies.
“We’ll need a place to hole up for a few days—or weeks. As long as it takes,” Hudson says.
“As long as it takes for what?”
“The Street Kings must have someone in office if they were able to find out where you were. We’ll figure out how to neutralize the threat through the legal means, but it might take some time. In the meantime, your instinct was right. You need to disappear.”
“But what about Tyler?” I can’t disappear and leave him to be found.
Hudson squeezes my arm again. “Marcus will put a team on it. It’s unlikely they’ve found him yet, or they would’ve said. We’ll get him before they do.”
My mouth goes dry. About now, the Street Kings will be realizing I’m not showing up, and they’ll go for the one thing they know will hurt the most—my brother.
“I can’t just do nothing. I have to find him.”
Hudson sits back in his chair and eyes me. “And how will you do that?”
I press my lips together. He’s right again. I have no way of knowing where he is. With no place to start but the bus station he left from three months ago.
I slump in my chair, expecting Hudson to say I told you so, but instead, he leans forward and squeezes my arm. “We’ll find your brother, Willow.”
Across the desk, Marcus rustles in a drawer and holds up a set of keys. “I’ve got just the place for the two of you. It’s in the mountains, and it’s secluded.”
Hudson snatches the keys from his hand. “Perfect. Can you explain to Joel that something’s come up, and I’ll be gone for a while? The crew know what they’re doing.”
“Wait, what? Who’s going to the safe house?” I’m struggling to keep up with the plans.
Hudson turns to me, and his expression is determined. “I’m not letting you go up there alone, Willow. I’m coming with you.”
My stomach does a double flip. I barely know this man, and he’s putting his entire life on pause to help me hide. “You can’t do that. What about the center?”
He grins, and a shiver runs down my spine. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.
“Trust me, this is much more exciting than babysitting a work crew.”
Marcus snorts out a laugh. “Been missing the missions, bro?”
Hudson shakes his head. “Every day.”
“Right, let’s talk protection.”
The start up a conversation about laser sensors and satellite dishes and firearms. But my head’s spinning because there’s too much to follow. I’ve somehow gone from running away with no plan to being dropped into some military-grade secret mission.
Hudson is lit up like this is what he was made for, and suddenly, it dawns on me.
“You weren’t just a regular Navy guy, were you?”
He and Marcus share a look before Hudson turns back to me. “I’m an ex-Navy SEAL, and I’m at your disposal. Here to serve.”
His eyes dance, and for the first time since this whole thing happened, I feel like there might be a way out.