11
Acar rumbles past, shaking the side door where we’re parked on the side of the road.
Ben leans back, his arm outstretched over the back of the passenger seat as he stares at me, neither one of us moving. “You don’t need to sit in the back, you know.”
“Oh.” It’s not until right then I glance around and realize when it was time to get into Ben’s police car I went right to the back seat. Granted I’ve never been arrested before, but I guess I assumed. I blame my lack of steady thought on Hudson… And sadness.
“We usually save the back for criminals. You’re not a criminal. Are you?” Ben asks, laughing as he gets out and opens the back door to let me out.
If he only knew. Subconsciously I put myself in the back seat of his unmarked cruiser because I carry so much guilt. I’m heavier. Like I’m carrying an overstuffed suitcase of lies. Ben has been nothing but a fourth brother to me. He’s looked out for me. He took care of me the night of the… Calling it an accident is incorrect, but I hate to use the word shooting. It reminds me of the horribleness of the situation. The idea alone makes my stomach twist and bubble with nerves. I am a criminal. I deserve to sit in the back of the car.
Unfortunately, it’s too late as he’s already let me out and opened the front door, waiting for me to get in and buckle my seatbelt.
“You said you wanted to talk,” he says returning to his seat behind the wheel.
I fiddle with my fingers, but it doesn’t calm my nerves. “Well,” I say, not wanting to tell him the real reason. “I wondered if you’d give me an update. About the situation.”
Ben nods twice. “But you said we couldn’t do it over the phone.”
I sigh, staring out the side window not making eye contact. “I thought it would be nice to get out for a bit.” It’s the first non-lie I’ve told Ben in weeks.
“Ahhh. I understand.” He nods his head and starts the car, not telling me where we’re going. “Hudson’s a little forceful?”
“You could say that.”
“He’s treating you well, right?” His eyes are steady, judging my response.
My cheeks heat. “He’s great.”
“Uh-huh,” is his only response.
Hudson is intense and great. He’s taking his job watching me seriously. He’s taking his non-job of making me fall in love with him not serious enough. I’m so confused. Do I let myself fall into the moments and enjoy his company while he’s here? That sounds like the best response — one Marissa or Aspen would say. But it’s very un-Amanda. I try not to do anything until I’ve at least made a pro and con list. But how can I compare Hudson when he is always lingering over my shoulder?
Not that I plan to whip out a ball-point pen and a pad of paper here in the squad car. But a few minutes of quiet time away from his lumberjack hard muscular chest will at least give me time to sort out my emotions. Possibly.
Ben pulls out in traffic and makes a few quick turns, heading away from the middle of the city. “We’ll call this an unofficial ride along. There’s something I need to do and it would be good if you’re with me.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“I have to talk to someone.”
My mind pictures the young man lying in the hospital room. There are two outcomes for me when he wakes up from the coma. One, he’ll tell everyone who shot him, or two, he’ll tell everyone who shot him and then tell everyone I talked to the shooter’s friend. I’m doing my best to ignore those facts because otherwise it’s one more thing to send me into an anxiety spiral. I need to start drinking.
I’ve gotten good at ignoring problems the last two weeks.
“Intense or not, I can’t believe Hudson let you out of his sight.”
If this is Ben’s idea of small talk, he is headed in the wrong direction. There’s nothing small about the topic of Hudson.
I attempt to laugh, but it comes out forced. Hopefully Ben’s not such a good police officer he can spot it. “I’m pretty sure the only reason he agreed is because I’m with you.”
The car goes silent for a while as Ben turns onto another road. I expect him to get on an expressway but he doesn’t.
“It’s been almost two weeks and nothing has happened. I must be out of the woods now, right? If they knew who I was they’d do something.”
I cross my fingers and tuck them onto the side of my leg on the opposite side of the seat. There’s nothing I need more desperately than for Ben to tell me I’m out of the woods. Even if the idea of Hudson returning home causes my heart to shake.
Hudson would fly back to Maine, but at least my life could go back to normal. I need a little normal.
