by Carly Fall
remembered the vulnerability in him last night as he clung to her in between the vomiting sessions. His outward appearance and his inner being were in conflict with each other.
She remembered him before he was battered and bruised at the hotel. His fine clothing, his impeccable grooming, and a confident, almost arrogant air about him had caught her eye. Yes, he was sexy, but there was more to the man than a pretty package. Here he was caring deeply for those in this house, as well as needing her to soothe him through his illness.
“Okay, Hudson,” she said. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “Just tell me what you want me to do.”
When everything was chopped, diced, and on the stove cooking, she met
Hudson’s eyes. “You’re an excellent teacher,” she said softly.
“And you, Beverly,” he said with that grin that showed his dimple and a wink,
“are a wonderful student.”
Chapter 17
“So what happened, Hudson? And what are we going to do with Beverly?”
He sat around the table with Rayner, Noah, and Talin in the War Room. One wall
had a large white screen that they used for Skype calls when they were in different parts of the world, to go over reports, street maps, and other miscellaneous stuff as a group.
Two walls were ceiling-to-floor glass. They had shut the door as there seemed to be a history of the females either eavesdropping in on their conversations, or overhearing them yelling at each other when things got heated. Rayner and Noah wanted Faith and Abby as far away from their work as possible, and they couldn’t risk Beverly finding out more than she already knew. For their safety, as well as hers. If she were to ever find out that there was another species on this planet and ended up telling the wrong people—like the government—they would stop at no end to get information. The Six Saviors knew that there were no boundaries the government wouldn’t cross. They had kept tabs on that poor bastard down in Area 51. He had been abused in the name of science in ways that even made them cringe.
The black shiny marble table reflected Hudson’s image back at him. Damn that
Colonist. He had done a job on his face. As he studied his swollen eye, the cut on his lip, and the multi-colored bruises on his face, he thought of the best way to be truthful without actually divulging many details, like the fact that he had gone there to commit suicide, or that the Colonist was supposed to be the concierge who would have delivered his suicide note to Noah. As he rehearsed his words, he didn’t see any way that they could find out that nasty, little detail unless he told them about it.
“Well, short version is that I answered the door and the fucker tasered me.”
“And the long version? How did he get the best of you, Hudson? In all of our
existence I’ve never seen anyone get the upper hand on you,” Noah said.
Hudson shrugged and looked at his friend. “I wasn’t expecting it. I was hung over and tired. Got me a little action the night before and didn’t sleep much. I was expecting room service, but when I opened the door I got four hundred volts instead of bacon and eggs.”
There was silence around the table while Noah eyed him. “Okay,” he said quietly.
“So what did he look like? Why didn’t he just put you six feet under?”
“We need a description. Tell us what you remember,” Talin said.
With a sigh, Hudson sat back in his chair. He shut his eyes and thought about the Colonist. “Based on the description Faith gave after her run-in a few months ago, I’d bet your left nut that it’s the same guy.”
Hudson heard Rayner let out something close to a growl, while Noah and Talin
cursed.
“Hudson,” Talin said, “bet your own nuts. Mine are off limits.”
“You know I never bet my nuts, always someone else’s.”
For reasons still unknown to them, the Colonist had been targeting redheads. He
had kidnapped Faith, and she had almost died. Rayner had been the one to save her from his clutches, they had fallen in love, and the rest was history. However, the Colonist knew where the silo was, as he had followed Rayner, Hudson, and Faith there after a run-in downtown. The Colonist had also followed Rayner and Faith to her parents’ house where he killed them, and came very close to getting Faith.
Despite their best efforts to hunt him down, the Colonist had disappeared, and
they hadn’t had any sign of him in months.
It looked like the fucker was back. Hudson hadn’t had any contact with the guy
when he was after Faith, but now that Hudson had had a little one-on-one time with the Colonist, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he knew him.
“He must have been hanging around the silo again and followed me when I left,”
Hudson said.
“So why was he practicing carving his Thanksgiving turkey on you?” Talin asked.
Hudson told him that the Colonist wanted the code to get into the silo so he could kill all the Warriors. “Obviously I didn’t give it up.”
All three stared at him. “Wow,” Talin said with a low whistle. “Thanks, man. You
went through a lot to protect us. We owe you.”
Hudson didn’t meet his eyes, because he knew he would see some sort of
admiration or respect that he didn’t deserve. If his fellow Warriors knew why he had been at the hotel—to end his own life—there wouldn’t be respect or admiration, but disgust.
They would be asking how in the world he could abandon them in their mission, and why he didn’t come to them for help.
But really, what could he do? He was destroyed on the inside from the wrecking
ball named Iris.
I like you, but I’ll never love you. Damn. Not even being tortured by a Colonist hurt as bad as that.
He once again tuned in to what the Warriors were saying. They were still thanking him, giving him accolades for his bravery.
He’d heard enough.
“Really, guys, knock it off,” he bit out with a little more force than he intended.
They shut up, and the silence was almost deafening.
Noah cleared his throat. “Okay. Well, we know he’s back, and we know that he
knows we’re around. If any of you leave the silo, I want you fully armed and make sure to watch your back. And I know they aren’t going to be happy about this, but Abby and Faith aren’t allowed outside the inner fence without one of us. Fully armed. And we need to start hunting him again. We should get into that hotel room as well. I’m sure it’s been cleaned, but we can still take a look around. Talk to some people at the hotel and see what we can come up with. So let’s divide up the workload…”
Hudson tuned out again, as he knew he wouldn’t be involved in doing anything
until Cohen and Jovan got back and he could be healed.
He heard deep rumbling voices as a background to his thoughts. They had landed
on Bev. He was getting the feeling that the pretty Beverly was hiding something. What, he had no idea. Maybe she was married? There was no ring, and he hadn’t seen her with a male at the hotel. He didn’t know, but he wasn’t going to spend time speculating. He figured he would get his answers after this little powwow with his fellow Warriors.
His thoughts turned to the kitchen preparing breakfast with Beverly. They had
chatted about nothing in particular while he told her what to do, and sometimes showed her how to do it. He held her hand while he guided her through the fine cutting of mushrooms, and again to show her the art of flipping an omelet, which required a flick of the wrist that was only acquired by practice, time, and a devoted teacher.
Actually, he had just wanted to hold her hand again, to stand behind her and be
close to her.
“And Hudson? We need to get Beverly out of here A.S.A.P. The less she knows
about us, the better off she’ll be.”
Hudson nodded. “Agreed. Hopefully she won’t go
to the police or something with
tales of being kidnapped. We’re going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen. Maybe money, a new car…whatever.”
“I didn’t kidnap her,” Rayner said. “She came willingly. Besides, she has no idea where she is. We could let her off back at the hotel, and the only thing she could tell police was Interstate 10 heading west.”
Hudson rolled his eyes. “My guess is that you gave her something like ‘we can do
this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way’ line.”
Rayner smiled. “Yeah, okay. I didn’t give her a choice, but you were in bad shape, man. You didn’t leave me any other option.”
Noah nodded. “Okay. Let’s find out what it’s going to take for her to keep her
little visit on the down-low, whether it’s money or maybe some bullshit line about us being military and her serving the special forces of her country. And let’s plan on having her gone by tomorrow night. Everyone at this table make sure that you have your contacts in by 8 p.m. She doesn’t need to see our sparkly nighttime light show.”
All grunted in agreement.
“When’s Cohen coming back?” Hudson asked.
“We’re hoping for tomorrow night.”
Hudson nodded and stared at his reflection in the table again. It would be nice to get rid of these cuts, bumps, and bruises.
Chapter 18
After breakfast, Beverly helped Faith and Abby clean up the kitchen. They had
chatted while doing the dishes and wiping the counters. Beverly found herself laughing and really enjoying their company.
“What is this place?” she had asked.
Abby and Faith exchanged a look, and then Faith said, “It’s a missile silo.”
“Really?”
Faith met her eyes and nodded. “There are actually quite a few people who own
decommissioned missile silos.” She then explained how after the Cold War the United States tried to show the Russians they were playing nice and shut down a bunch of missile silos, putting some of them up for sale.
“Some are used for military, some are used for private use.”
Beverly noted that Faith didn’t say if they were military, as Rayner had eluded to.
Abby nodded, then changed the subject by asking Beverly where she was from.
“Tucson.”
“What brought you to Phoenix?”
Beverly wasn’t about to tell them that she had checked into the Four Season after a stint in rehab for a little self-pampering before journeying out on her own to figure out what an ex-doctor and ex-drug addict did with her life. So instead she said, “I was on my way to California.”
Abby and Faith exchanged glances. “I know I’ve said this a couple of times, but
I’m really sorry about the way we’ve met,” Abby said. “We’re decent people, and we don’t want to hurt anyone, let alone kidnap someone.”
Beverly nodded, Abby’s words reminding her that yes, she had literally been
kidnapped, and maybe she shouldn’t be enjoying this conversation so much.
She realized that she wasn’t afraid of any of these people, and that she actually enjoyed being with them, which was messed up since they had kidnapped her, even
though she came willingly.
“I believe you, Abby. I can tell that you’re all a family and good to each other.
And considering that I am a kidnap victim, you’ve been very, very kind to me as well.”
“We’re always nice to everyone we kidnap,” Faith said. Abby and Beverly looked
at her, and all three burst out laughing.
After a while of chitchat, Beverly began to feel very tired, despite the three cups of coffee. She supposed the amount of stress she had been under the past few days and the fact she had slept in a chair last night wasn’t exactly a recipe for a whole lot of get-up-and-go. Her little inner demon was also talking a mile-a-minute about how nice a little pill would feel right about now, and she needed some space to try to calm the little bastard down.
Excusing herself, she headed down to Hudson’s room. Once the elevator stopped
on the seventh floor, she opened the door and looked around. Her intention had been to grab her things and head down to her own room, but the place was a mess. Clothes were strewn everywhere, the sheets had droplets of blood on them, and there was still
miscellaneous leftovers from her stitching up Hudson.
Despite her fatigue, she decided she needed to clean the place up. Hudson
wouldn’t be able to do it. She had noted how tired he looked after cooking breakfast, and how he moved about at a slow and gingerly pace. But really, who wouldn’t? He had to be in a lot of pain from his injuries.
She put her hair up in a loose bun on top of her head, and she tackled the bed first.
After stripping the sheets, she found a clean set in the bathroom cabinet and put them on.
She then began moving about the room, tossing things in the garbage and putting clothes in the hamper. As her hands moved over the silk of an Armani shirt, she couldn’t help but bring it to her nose and sniff it. The scent was like nothing she had ever smelled before.
She knew nothing about men’s cologne, so she didn’t have any idea what it could be. She did know that it sent a jolt of desire through her. It smelled smooth and sexy, but just a little rough around the edges. Kind of like the man who wore it, she thought, smiling to herself.
Noticing his Louis Vuitton duffel bag, she went over and began unpacking it. She
wasn’t sure what was dirty and what wasn’t, so she just threw everything into the dirty clothes basket. Going through the side pockets to make sure everything was out of the bag, she found an envelope addressed to Noah. Holding it in her hand, she knew she definitely shouldn’t read the letter. It wasn’t any of her business and a complete breech of Hudson’s privacy. However, the flap was open, and she had a strong curiosity to get to know him better. After a few seconds of internal debate, curiosity won.
She carefully removed the letter and gently unfolded it. As she read it, her mouth went dry, and she felt bile rise in her throat. Unable to believe what she was reading, she read it again. And again.
Feeling like her knees would give out she leaned against the dresser. She was
close to vomiting, and with shaking hands she carefully put the letter back in the envelope and zipped it back into the side pocket where she had found it.
Suicide. He had wanted to commit suicide. She unsteadily walked across the room
and fell into the overstuffed chair, memories rushing back.
Breakfast with her mom. Her mom complaining about the button on her blouse.
The phone call that caused tremors that shook so hard, they rocked the foundation of her life, eventually collapsing the whole thing like a house of playing cards.
After breakfast with her mom, Beverly went to the hospital and lost herself in her patients, ordering the tests needed and filling out paperwork. At 3:33 p.m., her cell phone had rung. She remembered this silly detail, because she had just looked at a clock when she heard her ringtone, “Situation,” by Yaz. Yes, she grew up in the 90s, but musically, she was an 80’s girl.
She hadn’t bothered to look at the caller ID.
“My name is Dr. Sanchez at Tucson General Hospital,” the voice said. “This
number was listed as an emergency number in a patient’s cell phone. With whom am I speaking?”
Beverly’s world started to spin. The only person she could think of who would list her as an emergency number was her mother. And she knew Dr. Sanchez and Tucson
General Hospital. In fact, she had just seen him in a staff meeting that morning and had lunch with him a week ago.
“Franco, this is Beverly Devlone. What’s going on?”
There was a very pregnant pause. “As in, Dr. Beverly Devlone?”
“Yes! What’s going on?”
She listened as he told her that her moth
er had committed suicide and was
downstairs in the emergency department.
Beverly remembered looking at the floor, as if she could see through six floors of concrete, patients, and equipment.
“A neighbor found her and called 911. We’ve tired to resuscitate her...they’re
going to take her…downstairs, Beverly.”
Downstairs meant the morgue.
She tried to stand, but her knees didn’t work. Tears welled in her eyes, and they seemed to fuel her body. She stood and made her way to the elevator.
The tears began to fall as she rode the elevator down, and she tried to wrap her
mind around what she had just heard. Her mother was dead. A suicide. When she rounded the corner and saw Dr. Sanchez, she tried, and failed miserably, to maintain her
professional composure.
As she sobbed, she felt arms circle her shoulders, and she let herself be led away into the doctors’ lounge.
She didn’t remember much more of the day, except that Franco had comforted her
for what seemed like hours.
Eventually, she was able to handle the details of her mother’s suicide. It hadn’t been quick and painless. Her mother had taken many, many sleeping pills, and then drank lighter fluid.
A week later, she stood in the cemetery watching her mother’s coffin being
lowered into the ground. Beverly recalled being numb, void of any emotion and
wondering how in the world she would move on, and feeling terribly alone.
There had been no note, and that bothered Beverly almost as much as her
mother’s death. She felt the need to know why her mother had committed suicide, what was so terrible, so horrible that she felt the need to take her own life. But Beverly would never know.
When Beverly looked back on it all, she wanted to forgive her mother, but she
couldn’t. She actually wanted to scream, yell, and throttle her for not getting the help she needed.
She knew it was selfish and somewhat childish. Her mother hadn’t forced the pills down Beverly’s throat that led to her addiction, or her subsequent fall from being a highly respected doctor to a former addict. Those were her choices and actions, and she took responsibility for them. But she couldn’t help but feel that none of those choices would have been made if her mother hadn’t killed herself.
