The two men in my kidnapping who were at the warehouse were caught. Well, Jimmy died. Gunshot to the head and all that. But they were able to catch the other before he fled from the building. Hudson says he’s confessed and given up the names of the other two men involved in the plot and the San Francisco Police Department is working to track them.
“Hey, you’re awake,” Hudson whispers, his head peeking over the threshold to my room. “Feeling better this morning?”
His questions are soft and sweet as if talking to a child. Which is what I need right now. I don’t answer, fearful I’ll cry if I open my mouth, but I nod my head and Hudson walks a few feet into the room.
“Can I sit with you for a minute?” He’s already sitting in the chair next to my bed by the time his question ends.
I nod again.
Frankly, he looks like shit. He’s wearing the same clothes he was when he took me from the factory. A part of me can smell the dirt and sawdust from the room on him lingering in the air. His face is unshaven, and his eyes have big dark bags under them. It’s obvious he hasn’t slept. If I was a stronger person, I would make sure he’s taking care of himself, but all I can worry about is me right now.
“Fucking shit, Amanda. I don’t know what to do to make this better.” His apology starts heavy, but his voice waivers at the end. “Please, I’m begging you, tell me what to do to fix this.”
Ugh. I wish he’d stop apologizing. Even though I’m the one lying in the hospital bed hooked up to a bunch of monitors, my heart breaks for Hudson. The problem is I don’t have a way for him to make it better. Contrary to what he believes, what happened isn’t his fault. The guys who took me off the streets are to blame. I mean for heaven sakes Hudson was shot. And then he had to kill a man to get me back. We’ve been through hell.
Hudson saved my life. I’ll never be able to repay him.
“Hudson,” I say my voice scratchy from lack of use.
He leans over and grabs the white Styrofoam cup full of ice and water. Or rather water after he shakes it twice and nothing clinks against the side.
“Do you want me to get you fresh?”
I shake my head no and take the cup. It should still be cold and even if it’s not, it’s at least wet.
“I’m so sorry, Amanda,” he says sitting beside the bed. “I can’t believe I let my guard down.”
“Hudson,” I speak between sips of water.
It doesn’t shut him up, and he keeps going. “I saw the look in your eyes and I’ll hear your screams for the rest of my life. I know there’s no way you can look at me the same. You have to know I never would’ve killed him in front of you if I thought there was another way at the time.”
I don’t miss the fact he uses the words “in front of me.” Meaning Hudson definitely would have killed him. He just feels awful he did in front of me. Either way I don’t care. Yes, as I said, I’ll need a lot of therapy and I’ll definitely never take my safety for granted again, but I don’t feel bad Jimmy died.
“Hudson, would you shut up?” I finally spit out when he gives me a moment of silence and I’ve sucked enough water. My voice cracks and I instinctively raise a hand to rub my throat. If I could get him to stop talking for a minute, maybe he’d let me explain that I’m not mad or sad or scared of him. He is the best thing to ever happen in my life.
He sits back, startled by my words, looking like he thinks I’m getting ready to chew him out when that’s the furthest thing from my mind.
“She’s awake!” Aspen’s voice rings out, loud and crisp in the private hospital room.
24
Ihate to be a bad friend — who am I kidding, I’m always the bad friend — but Aspen could not have picked a worse time to make her visit. And I love her. She was here all day yesterday. Getting water, refilling water, fluffing my pillow and accidentally pulling on my IV before doing it again while apologizing for pulling on the IV. Hudson and I haven’t had two minutes to ourselves. I tried to fake sleep yesterday afternoon, but then they stood around the bed looking and me and whispering.
“Do you need your pillow fluffed?” she asks for the thousandth time. It’s become her filler question. What she asks me if she doesn’t know what else to ask.
I shake my head, giving Finn my best “calm her down” look, but he doesn’t notice. He’s so madly in love with Aspen he thinks everything she does is adorable. “I’m fine, Aspen. Relax.”
My best friend is definitely more put together than Hudson in the last two days, but not by much. Her hair is flat on one side, a little curly on the other, and she’s more jittery than usual. I don’t even want to know how many cups of coffee it took to get her to this level. She doesn’t even like coffee.
“I feel so bad, Amanda. You have to let me do something for you. You could’ve died. I can’t lose any more people in my life,” her words trail higher and higher until she hits a pitch that shouldn’t be heard by human ears. Next, she’ll start crying and then I’ll start crying.
Finn takes a step closer but he’s hesitant. “Nonsense, Aspen. This is my fault for not protecting everyone.”
Her head swivels back to her husband, looking like the girl from the exorcist, definitely way too much coffee. “We can’t let anyone else get hurt. This is ridiculous. She was kidnapped!” she yells as if no one else knows what happened. Maybe she thinks people in the hallway need to know.
“Aspen, you need to stop freaking out. I’m okay.”
“Would you stop saying that?” With her eyes wide and her attention back on me, I realize how much I never want to be under Aspen’s scrutiny when she has a moment. “You are the one lying in a hospital bed! Stop trying to make me feel better. We deserve to feel horrible.”
