“Nope, but with all said and done, we need to get you another drink and Missy needs to break out that damn karaoke machine,” she laughs, lifting her glass. “I’m in the mood for a little Elvis tonight.”
I laugh, noting how the demeanor of the room has changed back to the lighthearted mood it once was. I felt better, closer to these women. I just couldn’t help worrying what saying goodbye to them would be like, if Hudson returned and didn’t want me after all.
Chapter 27
Hudson
Later that night…
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Every waking moment that wasn’t filled with family business, was filled with Alice and those three words she said before we fell asleep. At first, I didn’t think I’d heard her right but I had. There was no mistaking those three words.
Yes, I panicked. I let my fears consume me, causing me to make up some stupid plan to ignore her for the duration of my trip. I convinced myself we needed this time to sort things out. It was one the stupidest ideas I’ve had in a long time. All I learned was how much of an idiot I was thinking it up. I’m completely in love with her and could give two shits if I’m not the right man for her. I’d spend the rest of my life trying to become that man for her and when I fall short, I’ll find a way to make it up to her. If she gives me the opportunity after what I’ve put her through.
I wanted to call her but everything has been so fucked up since I arrived, I haven’t had the time. Devlin was right. The family was questioning my commitment to them and whether or not Erik’s information was right. I managed to convince them he was wrong so far, but it hasn’t been easy. My hands are covered in blood for them and the only thing keeping me sane was knowing the blood I spilt was far from innocent.
I was on my way back from yet another test, quietly sitting in my provided vehicle, while my driver watched for any reason to doubt my allegiance. The stench of blood soaked into my clothes and skin, its coppery scent chokes me. The urge to puke rolls through my body and I struggle to resist it and keep my jaw tense, my breathing even. My life depended on it.
The familiar street tells me I’m nearly home. Home being the shithole motel they dropped me off at six days ago. It wasn’t a big deal, usually, but I had a hard time stomaching this place. Screams echo down the breezeway at all hours, men and women of all ages coming and going to various rooms, even the smell bothered me. Something was off about this place and I couldn’t put my finger on it.
The black Mercedes slows, stopping just shy of the drive way.
“You’ll be contacted,” my driver says, unlocking the doors.
I give him a quick nod and climb out of the car. I refuse to look back as I jog all the way to my motel room. I fish the key out of my pocket, let myself in and lock the door behind me. I cross to the bathroom, barely making it over the toilet before losing the contents of my stomach. A few moments later, I stand in the scalding hot water, the olive green bath tub looks like a Christmas explosion as the blood washes off my body.
After an hour of scrubbing my skin, I fall into bed desperate for sleep. I need my brain to shut done but it isn’t going to happen. I roll off the bed and onto my feet. Unable to hold back anymore, I pull back the loose board in the wall and to get my burner phone. Every night this week, I stared at it for hours, desperate to hear her voice. Tonight is no different.
I open my email application to do my routine check in with King but I can’t bring myself to type the memorized phrase, telling him I was alright and breathing. No, I need to hear how Alice is and instead of calling her, I dial King’s number. He answers immediately.
“Everything alright?” his gruff voice comes onto the line.
“Is she doing okay?” I ask barely holding my emotions back.
“She’s fine,” he doesn’t hesitate with his answer, which means one of two things. Either she really is fine or he’s practiced the words more than once.
“King,” I warn.
“She’s fine,” he repeats. “She got drunk.”
“Margarita Monday,” I sigh exhaustedly, rubbing my eyes, remembering what day of the week it is. “How drunk?”
“By the time I got there, she could barely stand,” Kingston chuckles. “Did you know the girl never had a drop of liquor before tonight?”
“She was only nineteen when she married the stalker, too young to drink.”
“That never stopped us growing up,” he has a point but then again he doesn’t know Alice’s history the way I do.
“She was very sheltered.”
“Damn,” he breathed. “She misses you brother.”