“I’m done hiding,” I hand the folder back to him without looking at it. “I don’t know anything about them. The only face I ever saw was Erik’s. The others always had a mask on or I was blindfolded.”
“I’ll tell him,” he tossing the folder into the back and I can’t help feeling proud for making this stand, for taking me back. He still looks worried though with his brow furrowed. “There’s something else I have to tell you.”
“Okay, what is it?” my voice is calm even though my body feels great unease.
“I lied to you last night about where I was,” he swallows and tightens his hold on my hand. “I wasn’t in Detroit. I was in Chicago.”
“What were you doing in Chicago?” my brow crinkles in confusion.
“I went for you, to see your family,” he explains and I’m stunned for the moment. His eyes search mine for a reaction.
“I didn’t go home to them because I knew he’d look for me there first,” I whisper softly. He relaxes when my anger doesn’t come. “I didn’t want to put them in danger.”
“He can’t hurt you or your family anymore,” his voice is filled with understanding. I know he’s right but I’ve lived so long looking over my shoulder, waiting for Erik’s next move. His death hasn’t sunk in yet.
“I know,” my voice is soft, reflective of my thoughts. I missed my family but the idea of them frightens me. I’m no longer the perfect girl they raised and as much as I wanted to see them, I don’t know how they would react to the person I am now.
“Are they here?”
“You’re mother is,” he says and I nod feeling nervous.
If my mom was here, that means…
I feel as though I’m being choked, the weight of the last twenty-four hours bearing down on me. He says something to me but I can’t hear him, it’s as though someone pushed the mute button silencing the world around me. My skin grows warm and my vision blurry. I feel as if my heart’s going to burst out of my chest, it’s pounding so hard. The smell of blood fills my nose, gagging me. I close my eyes and see Erik’s lifeless ones staring back at me, his arm extended towards me, the knife sticking out of his neck. I don’t know how but I’m suddenly in Hudson’s lap, his steely arms wrapped around me, his words murmuring against my hair. The steering wheel is pressed into my hip.
“Am I a murderer?” my voice is weak, much like the way my body feels.
“No,” his response is quick and curt.
“But I killed him.”
“And if you hadn’t, he would have done the same to you.”
“I know,” I relax into him, resting my head in the crook of his neck. “When I close my eyes, I see him. I’ve been trying to ignore it, move on, but it’s hard.”
“It just happened,” he laces his fingers with mine. “You haven’t had the time to process any of this. I can tell you there’s nothing wrong with your feelings and as time goes it will get easier. You have a conscience, something he didn’t have. You had to do it Alice, remember that.”
“Maybe so, but if I had stalled him for just a few minutes more, you would have made it in time,” I argue and he frowns. Yes, he thought the same thing too.
“True but there was no guarantee,” he points out. He’s right. There wasn’t a guarantee. Erik was about to strike and I knew I couldn’t let it happen, so I struck first. “It could’ve gone any way if he was desperate enough.”
“Does my mother know what happened?”
“She only knows what I’ve told Missy.”
“Did you tell…”
“No, I only told her we made it in time and you were safe,” he presses his lips to my hair and breathes deeply. “Would you like to see her?”
I nod, slipping off his lap back to my spot next to him. He starts the truck and pulls back out on the road. I silently hoped I didn’t let my mother down. I’ve been through so much the last few years and because of Hudson, I’ve been able to push through it to become more than the sheltered girl of my childhood and Erik’s plaything. I wanted my family but I wasn’t sure if they’d want me.
We pull into the driveway just as my mother steps out of the house. She was waiting for us. Her eyes search the truck but I’m in motion before she sees me, opening the truck door and jumping out of the vehicle. I bound up the stairs to her. Her arms are open wide, waiting for me but I hesitate. The woman standing in front of me might’ve looked like my mom, smiled like my mom but she didn’t act like my mom. My mom didn’t show emotion. Ever.