Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
Hudson
I stand in the corridor outside her room, silent, seething with anger.
“Kenzo is on his way up. What did the doctor say?” Atlas asks as he hands me a paper cup of coffee.
“That she’s incredibly lucky. She has a few cuts and a fuck ton of bruises, but miraculously no broken bones or internal damage. She’s concussion-free too, but they want to keep her in overnight just to be safe.”
“I’m glad she’s okay. She might be black and blue tomorrow, but we both know it could’ve been a lot worse if she hadn’t protected her head the way she did.”
“What I want to know is, what the fuck happened?”
“I might be able to help with that,” Kenzo says, walking toward us.
“Is she doing okay?” He looks through the window at Starling sleeping in the bed, which makes her look so tiny.
“She’ll be sore for a while, but nothing’s broken.”
“Thank fuck for that. I called Trix. She’s putting together a bag of things she might need. I’ll bring it by later.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it. So tell me what you found out.”
“Seems most of it stems from your boy going AWOL. The football team is losing without him, and Starling is getting the blame for his absence. There’s been a lot of shit-talking, pushing, shoving, and damage to her locker. Shit like that.”
“She didn’t say anything.” I look back at her, hating to see her looking so fragile.
“After all she’s been through, it was probably just high school drama to her. She couldn’t have known it would escalate like this.”
“The one that did it?”
“Claire Robbins. Her daddy is a big-shot real estate agent. He makes a lot of money selling homes to the rich and famous, which he often spends bailing his daughter out of trouble.”
“I want him ruined. The whole family and the families of the other girls that were involved.”
“Consider it done. It could be my wedding present to you guys.”
“The ringleader. Tell me more about her.”
“From what I could gather, she’s popular by default. She’s ruthlessly mean, and nobody will stand up to her. And after seeing this, I can understand why. She’s a dancer who applied to Julliard. Her audition’s next week.”
“Good. Break her legs.”
Kenzo grins. “Your wish is my command.”
“I don’t care what you do to her as long as she’s left with a permanent limp.”
“That won’t be a problem.”
“Do you want me to get some guys to look for Abbot?” Atlas asks.
I shake my head. “I know where he is. I have a tracker on his car. He’s at his brother’s place.”
Kenzo winces. “And I’m guessing you haven’t told Starling.”
“I’m not stopping him from calling or texting her. He knows where she is, and he’s made zero effort to contact her.”
“Why not just tell her then? She’s going to be pissed when she finds out.”
“She’ll get over it. She needs to see how fucking selfish he is.”
Wisely, neither of them says anything to that.
“That Hayden kid checks out anyway. He’s Abbot’s friend and teammate, so he’s pissed that Abbot bailed, but he’s not blaming Starling for it. He’s the one who got Claire away from her and stayed with her until we got there.”
I nod, glad Starling had someone, even though it should have been me.
“He said to tell you that he applied to Arizona State, and he knows Starling applied too, so if they both go, he’ll watch over her.”
“She’s not going.”
When I don’t say anything else, they look at each other.
“To Arizona State or anywhere?” Atlas asks.
“Anywhere. She’s staying home with me. She’s my wife.”
“She’d still be your wife if she went to Arizona State,” Atlas points out.
“You’d let Ivy go, then?”
His jaw ticks as he looks away.
“That’s what I thought.”
“She’s gonna fight you on it,” Kenzo warns with a grin.
“There’s nothing to fight. I took care of it.”
“And by taking care of it, you mean you talked her into staying?”
“I hacked her files, declined scholarships, and changed her grades so she won’t get in anywhere.”
“Yeah, I thought that’s what you might say.” Kenzo chuckles. “Quick question: When she’s done with high school, what are you expecting her to do? Ride your dick?”
I open my mouth to reply but close it when I don’t have an answer.
“Maybe look at online options or local community colleges. If all else fails, I could always find her a job at one of my restaurants.”
“She doesn’t need to work.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t want to,” Atlas says before turning. “Anyway, we’re getting off-topic. What did you make of the principal?”
“She’s a brown-nosed bitch. If you told me she was sucking Claire’s daddy’s dick, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised. She refuses to expel Claire because one incident shouldn’t tarnish a promising woman’s future. Funny, though, according to Hayden, she seemed to have no issue blaming Starling. We’re taking care of her, too, right?”
“You take care of the others. Miss Evans is mine.”
Kenzo’s grin is feral as he rubs his hands together with glee. “Well, I have it on good authority that Miss Evans will be late at school tonight. Some sponsors are coming to watch the game, and she likes to show them around the school, give them the whole experience, and probably even give them a free blow job.”
“I can work with that. I’m going to sit with Starling for a bit. I’ll need an alibi for tonight.”
“I’ll pay one of the nurses to say you were here all night,” Atlas offers.
I nod my thanks and open the door. Pausing, I turn to look over my shoulder. “Thank you. I’ll talk to both in the morning.”
I head inside and close the door behind me. I walk around the bed and see Starling awake and staring out the window.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Sore. Tired,” she says without looking away from the window.
“Get some sleep, Birdie. I’m not going anywhere.”
She nods, a single tear slipping down her cheek as her eyes flutter closed. I cover her hand with mine and watch her sleep for hours until she stirs. Her eyes open, and for a moment, she seems confused before everything comes crashing back and tears fall down her face.
“It’s okay. You’re okay now. The doctors said you were lucky. You might not feel like it for the next few days, but the pain will fade.”
She doesn’t say anything, and her silence unnerves me more than her tears.
“Birdie?”
Her eyes flick to mine. “I’m not going back.”
“You don’t have to. You have enough credits to graduate, and you’ve completed all the required courses.”
“How do you know that?”
“Lucky guess?”
The door opens, ending any more conversation.
“I come bearing food,” a cheerful woman in scrubs states with a smile. She sets down a tray with a sandwich, some fruit, a cup of Jello, and an apple juice on the table at the end of the bed.
“Thank you,” Starling replies softly.
“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ll stop by and collect the tray once you’re done.” She leaves quickly, closing the door behind her.
“You hungry?”
“No. I think I’m just going to go back to sleep for a while. Why don’t you go home and get some sleep too?”
“I can stay a little longer.”
“And watch me sleep? That’s creepy, even for you. Go. You can come back bright and early tomorrow to pick me up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I stand and press a kiss to her forehead. “Okay. Your school bag is here with your cell phone. Call me if you need me.”
“I will.”
“Night, Birdie.”
“Bye, Hudson.”
I can’t shake off this weird feeling when I leave Starling. She’s clearly not okay, but she seems to need space. Since I have something to do tonight, I’m willing to give her a little.
I go home and get changed before loading up my car with what I need, then head back to the high school. I park a block away from the school and grab my supplies from the trunk.
Thanks to the visitors, the school’s still open. I sneak in undetected and wait in one of the music rooms. I watch through the window as the last visitor leaves long after the game ends—a game that they lost.
When I see the principal heading back inside, I leave the room and head for her office. Her door’s open a crack, and she’s on the telephone arguing with someone.
“No, I can’t expel her. Not without creating a shitstorm.” She’s quiet for a moment, then curses. “Don’t blame me when your daughter has poor impulse control.” She sighs. “Yes, yes, I’ll see what I can do.”
I wait for her to hang up before I walk into the room, making her jump.
“Excuse me, I didn’t think anyone was still here. Wait, you’re?—”
“Starling’s husband. Yes.”
She scrunches her face in disgust. “She’s barely legal.”
“Barely still counts. And who I fuck has nothing to do with you, lady, especially when you’re panting after married dick.”
Her face flushes, so I’m guessing Kenzo’s assumptions about her are true.
“What do you want?”
“I’m glad you asked. What I want is for you to stop breathing and for this school to become nothing but rubble. Does that sound doable?”
“I’ll call the police.”
“No.” I step closer. “You won’t.” I pull out a pack of cigarettes and offer her one. When she shakes her head, I glare at her.
With a shaky hand, she slips one from the pack and puts it to her lips. I flip open my Zippo and light the end, watching her inhale and start coughing.
I watch her in silence, noting her pulse fluttering wildly and her skin growing paler.
“I entrusted you with the most precious thing I have—my wife. And you returned her to me bloody and bruised.”
“I’m very sorry?—”
“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to feel every inch of pain and fear that she did.”
She reaches for her phone, but I slam my fist into the back of her hand. I hear a crunch before she cries out.
“If you think that hurts, it’s going to be a long fucking night for you.”
I spend the next few hours wandering around the school with the principal in tow, planting small devices that fuel her terror. I haven’t laid a hand on her yet, aside from when she reached for her phone, but she knows I’m capable of violence. It’s simmering just below the surface, and every second spent with me could be her last.
The violence that I don’t waste on her, I use to destroy every room we pass. With the cameras being disabled thanks to Kenzo, there’s nobody around to see it.
Except for her.
“If you let me go, I promise I won’t say anything,” she says with a shaky voice after spending the last three hours as my unofficial tour guide.
“Hmm… Well, I guess you have been helpful.” As her shoulders relax, I reach for her. In a swift move, I snap her neck and leave her on the cafeteria floor. “You were always going to die. You sealed your fate the second you failed my wife.”
I step over her body and head back to my car. Once I’m at a safe distance, I pull the detonator from my pocket, flip the safety off, and hit the switch. There’s a two-second delay before an explosion rips through the night. I feel the heat from here, and the noise makes my ears ring and my head pound.
I drive three-quarters of the way home before I get out, torch the car, and walk the rest of the way. Once home, I head upstairs, strip, shower, and fall into a deep sleep for a few hours until the morning light wakes me up. I reach for my phone and see it’s eight a.m.
I get up, get dressed, and call the cops to report my car stolen before heading back to the hospital, calling Kenzo on the way.
“You see the news?” he says as a greeting.
“Not yet, why?”
“There was a big explosion over at the high school, and the fire’s been blazing out of control for hours.”
“No shit.”
“There was also a break-in at the Robbins residence. You know that realtor guy whose face is plastered everywhere?”
“Can’t say I do,” I lie.
“Well, apparently, the intruders broke in, and the daughter ended up with two broken legs.”
“Sounds painful.”
“Uh-huh. There were a couple of other break-ins too. And a few people got roughed up.”
“Sounds like that Purge movie,” I reply when I pull up at the hospital.
“That’s what I said. Where are you, anyway?”
“Just pulling into the parking lot at that hospital. I ran home to take a shower and get some clean clothes.”
“Did you stay there last night?”
“Yeah, she was so scared. I couldn’t leave her. One of the nurses was cool about letting me stay.”
“That was nice of her.”
“Yeah, and I needed nice after getting home and realizing one of my cars had been stolen.”
“Fuck off! What is the world coming to?”
I walk into the hospital and head up to Starling’s floor.
“Oh, before I forget, I dropped off that bag Trix put together for Starling.”
“Did you see her? Was she okay?”
“She was asleep, so I left it at the nurse’s station.”
“Alright, thanks. I have to go. I’ll text you when we get home.”
I hang up and walk to her room. I open the door with a smile but find the bed empty. Turning around, I go to the nurse’s station and wait for her to get off the phone.
“Yes, sir, can I help you?”
“My wife, Starling Peters. Did she go for more tests?”
She frowns and types something into the computer. “Ah, it says here she checked out last night against doctor’s orders.”
“What? Are you sure you have the right patient?”
“Yes, of course.” She lifts an envelope from the desk. “Is your name Hudson?”
“Yeah.”
“Looks like she left you a note,” she says softly.
I grab it from her and jog toward the exit, knocking someone over on the way out, but I don’t look back. I don’t stop until I make it to my car. I sit in the driver’s seat and rip the envelope open.
Unfolding the two sheets of paper, I see my name in Starling’s familiar handwriting, staring back at me.
Hudson.
You must think I’m an idiot. And to think you almost had me fooled.
Was this all just a game to you? Are you that much of a narcissist? You have to break all your toys because that’s what I was, right? A toy for you to play with.
How could you do this to me? Coll e ge was the one thing I wanted for myself , and you took it from me. And don’t even get me started on Abbot. You knew all along where he was , and you just played dumb. I can’t even wrap my head around it. If I’d never heard all this from your own mouth, I would have never believed it.
You took everything we were building and set fire to it. I’m done with this, with us, and with you. I never want to see you again.
In case you missed it, this is me officially moving out. Expect divorce papers in the mail.
Starling
I punch the steering wheel until my knuckles split and bleed. I knew something was wrong when I left her. I fucking knew it.
Yanking out my phone , I call Landon.
He answers on the third ring. “Dad?”
“Is Starling there?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles. “I haven’t seen Starling, but Abbot was talking to someone early this morning. And then he left, which is a miracle since that boy has done nothing but sleep on my sofa and mope. What the hell happened between you two? He wouldn’t tell me shit.”
“I don’t have time for this right now. Call me if they come back.”
I hang up and dial Kenzo.
“That was fast,” he laughs.
“Starling’s gone. She heard us talking outside her room yesterday. She knows I fucked up her coll e ge chances and that I knew where Abbot was.”
“Shit. What do you need from me? I’m working on the twin’s info, so I’m at my computer anyway.”
“Can you track Abbot’s car if I text you the details?”
“Yep. I take it you’re heading to Boston?”
“I’ve gotta find her, Kenzo.”
“I’ll call the pilot and get the plane ready. Head to the airfield.”
“Thanks.”
I hang up and dial Starling, but it goes to voicemail. The same happens with Abbot. I call Starling again and leave a message.
“Just let me explain, Birdie. Five minutes, that’s all I ask.” I hang up. Five minutes is all I need to kidnap her and bring her back home.
I drive to the airfield, going ten over the speed limit. I could put my foot flat to the floor, but I can’t risk getting pulled over and delayed. When I get there, I see Atlas standing next to his car, waiting for me.
Getting out of my car, I slam the door and head toward Atlas.
“What are you doing here?”
“Figured you might need a hand.”
I run my fingers through my hair, agitated. “I can’t believe she ran. What the fuck was she thinking?”
He gives me a look, but I choose to ignore it.
“Let’s just go?—”
The sound of my phone ringing cuts me off. I pull it out, frowning at the unfamiliar number, but answer it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this Hudson Peters?”
“Speaking.”
“This is Janet Porter. I’m a nurse at Mass General.”
“In Boston?”
“Yes, sir. I’m calling because your son, Abbot Peters, was brought in after a car accident.”
I grip the side of the car and grit my teeth. “Is he okay?”
“He’s stable. We’re waiting on x-rays, but he has a suspected broken leg. Depending on what the x-rays find, he may need surgery.”
“The passenger. The girl he had with him. Is she okay?”
“I’m sorry, sir. Only Abbot’s my patient. I’m unaware of anyone else’s condition.”
“I’m on my way.”
I hang up and get on the plane, Atlas behind me, hoping and praying she’s okay.