Chapter 9 #2
We stand, and I wrap my arm around Hudson’s waist, pulling him into my side. I smile at him, relishing the light in his blue irises, all my anger momentarily forgotten.
“Let’s go live, then.”
Hudson
We’ve been sitting in the parking lot of Melvin's for over an hour, eating burgers and people-watching.
When we pulled into the restaurant, I panicked a little, not quite ready to face people yet.
Cull was great about it and offered to get our food to-go.
We opted to just sit in the truck and eat, neither of us broaching the subject of the river, which would have been our normal go-to spot.
Thankfully, my appetite is slowly coming back, so I wanted to see if I could stomach something a little heavier than soup and sandwiches. So far, this mushroom Swiss burger is proving to be the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.
My apologies to Cullen’s dick.
I’d like to think he’d understand, especially after a month of a feeding tube and bland hospital broth.
“This burger is everything I hoped it would be,” I mumble around a mouthful of beef and mushrooms. Grease drips down my wrist, and I’m trying my best not to be a caveman and lick it off. It’s a little messier than I anticipated since I can’t properly hold it, thanks to this stupid sling.
It’s not stopping me from cramming another delicious bite in my mouth, though.
Cull chuckles, taking a sip of his milkshake. “I’m glad you’re able to eat it. Just don’t overdo it.”
I roll my eyes and take another bite. “Yes, mom.”
He smirks at me, then moves his gaze out across the parking lot.
He’s been tense since we left the house, no doubt because of the news we got about Mason. I decided at that moment that I can’t do anything about it, and that freaking out isn’t going to help anything. So, I took a breath and let it go.
Not that it doesn’t still scare the absolute shit out of me, but I’m learning I can only control what I can control. And it’s not like having a name changes anything anyway.
I leave Cull to his thoughts while I finish my burger, two bites shy of exploding. Tossing the balled-up tinfoil in the bag, I wipe my mouth with a napkin, then sip my soda.
After a few minutes without Cull saying anything, I nudge him, pulling his attention back to me. “Wanna talk about it?”
It would be a nice change to talk about what is on his mind instead of mine for once.
We’ve talked about how my therapy is going and how Hadley and I have been getting along.
Things are still a little weird between us; some hurt lingering on both sides.
She’s expressed how guilty she feels, and I have done the same.
One thing I think she and I could both agree on is that guilt is a son-of-a-bitch.
Cull smiles, but it’s brittle and doesn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing to talk about. Just happy to be here with you.” He leans over the console to kiss my cheek, then cranks the truck and pulls out of Melvin’s parking lot.
I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling. The tick in his jaw is a dead giveaway that he’s not okay. And if that weren’t obvious, the way he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel is.
I’m not going to push him on it tonight, though. It’s been the best day I’ve had in a long time, even with the news of Mason. I’m not guaranteed to wake up tomorrow with the same good attitude, so I’m trying to be in this moment right now.
We drive for a few minutes before I notice we aren’t heading back to Cull’s house. “Where are we going?” I ask, looking around at all the mini mansions we are driving past.
“Making a little detour.” That’s all he says before he pulls up to the curb, a huge house looming across the street. It’s dark inside, the front yard overgrown with weeds and shrubs that need to be cut back.
I’d imagine the lawn would annoy the other neighbors if the houses weren’t spread so far apart. You probably couldn’t hear a scream for how isolated each house seems.
That's not a comforting thought.
Cull reaches beneath his seat and pulls out a gun, shoving it in his waistband before turning to me.
“I’ll be right back. Lock the doors when I get out.”
I look from him to where the gun is resting under his shirt. “What the fuck is going on? When did you get a gun?”
His jaw tightens, and he ignores my questions before giving me a quick kiss and opening his door. “Lock up. I’ll be right back.”
Fuck that shit.
Shoving out of the truck, I stalk around the hood where Cull stands looking up at the sky like he’s asking the heavens for patience.
“I told you to stay in the truck,” he growls, his eyes cutting toward me.
“What the hell, Cull? I’m not some damsel in distress. Do you really think I’m going to let you go off by yourself, half-cocked with a gun?” I growl, heat rising in my chest. “Where even are we?”
The vein in his neck pulses before he exhales hard. “This is Mason’s house.”
My heart punches hard against my ribs as I look up at the imposing house. “What the hell are we doing here?”
“Stay close to me.” It’s all he says before he’s walking across the lamp-lit street and up the empty driveway.
I hurry behind him, whisper shouting at him to slow down. “Cull, would you stop?” I finally reach him just as his foot lands on the bottom step.
He turns on me, his face a cold mask. “I just want to check it out. If you’re worried, go back to the truck.”
“This could be dangerous,” I hiss, following him up the steps.