“It’s supposed to educate you, bro, on all this rehab stuff. The counselor is there to keep my ass from justifying why I feel the need to choke down a handful of drugs with a beer chaser.”
“I’m aware of that session’s intent,” Hudson said tightly.
“It only works if you work it.”
Sweet hell, his brother was talking in goddamn bumper stickers.
The truth was, that little family group session brought up everything from their past that was straight-up out of a horror flick. Hudson wasn’t interested in some peace-is-love-let’s-hug-it-out asshole holding him accountable for his failures. He knew he was responsible for Nick’s joyride that read like a scene from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
God, he sounded like a bastard. The program was saving his little brother’s life, better than any attempt he had made. For that, Hudson thanked his lucky-fucking-stars.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to talk about it.
“We went through a lot of the same shit. You’ve been cleaning up my messes for too long.” Nick looked up at Hudson, his boyish face grimly set. “Hear anything about, you know?”
“The body was found. And as I predicted, there have been no questions with regards to another junkie taking a dirt nap in an alley. Case closed.”
“You sure?”
“You’re off the hook, Nicky. Focus on . . .”
“My skill building? Making that arts and crafts shit out of twigs and feathers?”
“Yeah, what the fuck is this?” Hudson picked up the willow loop he’d set on the bench between them. On top of it a loose network of thread was woven into a web.
“Yo, bro, there is deep meaning to all that.”
“By all means, enlighten me.”
Hudson’s grin broadened as Nick cleared his throat, preparing to give some thorough lecture on Native American art.
“The design is to allow only the good dreams to filter through. It catches the bad dreams like a badass, and they disappear in the day. The kick-ass dreams, maybe even some sex dreams—not that you need those—slide down these feathers.” Nick ticked the tendrils with his fingers. “Into your pretty little head.”
“And where do I put this magnificent work of art?” There was more than a hint of sarcasm in Hudson’s voice.
“Nice, real appreciative of all my hard work. I think I have carpal tunnel from weaving that shit. Put the thing over your bed, dude.”
Hudson’s brow shot up. “Over my bed?”
“Yup, then the magic happens.” Nick’s mouth curved into a shit-eating grin.
The only thing Hudson could do was laugh. “If you say so.” He examined the matrix of threads. If only this thing could really put an end to the nightmares that cleaved into his subconscious on a nightly rotation. “Thanks, Nicky,” he said, standing and tucking the loop into his leather jacket. “I’ll hang it up.”
Nick stood up, nearly eye-to-eye with Hudson. “Thanks for coming. It means a lot to me that you’re taking this seriously.”
“I’m proud of you.” Hudson pulled Nick into a hug. “So damn proud. Keep it up.” As he released his little brother, they both got their manly back-slapping routine on.
“Uh, I’d ask you to stay for dinner but the food in this joint sucks. Couldn’t you have hooked me up with some place in Malibu with a celebrity chef?”
Hudson threw his head back and laughed. “That’s not rehab, its vacation.”
“Well then, for fuck’s sake, help your little brother out and bring me some Al’s Beef.”
“Speaking of food, can I spring you for Thanksgiving?”
“Nah, not a chance. I’m not done with my thirty-day sentence. And holidays supposedly cause an itchy trigger finger or something. Sends us addicts into relapse. So it’s lockdown with turkey rolls and mashed potato paste.”
“I’ll catch you next week then.” Hudson zipped up his jacket and pulled his keys from the pocket.
“Hey, Hudson, don’t spend the holiday working. Call Allie, make amends.”
It had been nearly two weeks since Allie put the final nail in that coffin. She’d let him say his piece, but hell if it had made any difference. And now just hearing her name was like a knife to the heart.
Hudson looked down at the ground and exhaled a sharp breath before looking back up at Nick. “Yeah, I tried that, Nicky. It wasn’t enough. We’re done. For good this time.”
Chapter Twelve
Reality twisted and the nightmare seized him, tunneling through his subconscious with a silent domination. Every moment became impossible, a sense of “this can’t be happening.” Yet the convenience store became more distinct, the pungent smell of copper infiltrating his nose. The slick sensation of being wet made his skin itch as blood soaked his jeans, and the screams that peeled out of his mother’s mouth morphed into the screeching sirens that ricocheted inside his eardrums.
The dream tantalized him with the false idea that he could roll back the clock sixty seconds earlier. When Hudson tried to hit rewind, the nightmare took control and made him relive the tragedy as it flickered through his psyche. But none of it was enough to snap him out of the replay.
Blood was everywhere, glistening and crimson under the fluorescent lights that hung low on the ceiling. The man who lay bleeding on the cheap linoleum with a gaping wound to the chest wasn’t a stranger to him, he was the man he looked up to. Now his blue stare, slowly losing its color, penetrated Hudson and paralyzed him with a death grip on his father’s soaked shirt. He willed him to say something, to reassure him that everything was going to be okay. But all Hudson heard were gurgling sounds from his father, and the hard burst of his own breath as he stared down at the eyes that were losing their focus.
More strained breaths and gurgling.
Between one blink and the next, he was being torn away from his father. He looked back at him. The skin that had once been golden tan was now going gray.
A scream came out of his mother’s mouth at the same time one was ripped from his.
Hudson jackknifed off the bed. With his breath coming sharp and fast out of his mouth, he swung his feet over the side of the bed and flipped on the bedside lamp. He closed his eyes and tried to reboot, but the bright bouquet of red stained the backs of his lids.
“Fuck,” he muttered. It was the same horror show the past four nights in a row. The repeats were inevitable since Nick decided to open the door with C-4 and rattle the skeletons he’d locked up in the darkest place of his mind. Now his subconscious was burping that shit up like a bad trip through the Haunted Mansion.
Taking shallow breaths and doing his best to think of absolutely fucking nothing, he pushed unsteadily to his feet and staggered to the bathroom. Once inside the room he didn’t bother with the lights; the moon was providing enough as it filtered in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. When you sat at the top of the world there wasn’t a threat of being caught naked, but like he gave a flying fuck.
Hudson reached into the shower, cranked the faucets, and turned the water on as hot as he could stand it without stripping off his first layer of skin. He braced his palms against the marble and leaned into the spray as he let the water wash over him. The hot water was a blessing, rinsing away the wake of the nightmare, slowly but not entirely.
Hanging his head he felt the hot rush sluice over the back of his skull, split off his shoulders, and cascade down his chest and back. As he stood there, he thought of the only thing that seemed to ground him to the present.
Allie.
The way she felt under him when he was buried deep inside her. The sight of her body arching into his as he drove them both toward the edge. The sound of her moans in his ear as they climaxed together.
And instantly he was hard.
Rock hard.
Hudson shut his eyes and gripped himself with both hands.
Allie was on her knees. “I want your cock.”
“Where do you want it? Show me.”
She leaned forward and parte
d her lips over his glistening tip. Her mouth was hot and wet.
Hudson grew even harder as he forgot where he was and that it was his hand grasping his cock, which was a poor fucking substitute for having her lips wrapped around his shaft. Nothing compared to what it felt like to slide himself in and out of her beautiful mouth, to see her look up at him with a heat that mirrored his own.
He shifted his legs apart, his breath easing in and out of his heavy chest as she took him all the way into her mouth. The head of his cock hit the back of her throat and the pleasure shot up and down his spine.
“Just like that,” he groaned as he fisted a hand into her hair. “Deeper.”
She got into it, relaxing her throat to take more of him then sucking hard as he pulled out. Hudson thrust forward and slipped even deeper. “I love fucking your mouth . . .”
Allie wrapped her arms around his thighs and squeezed his ass as he pumped into her mouth. He looked down and the sight nearly made him come. Fuck him, he was ready, but he wanted to feel her for as long as he could.
She sucked harder and grazed her teeth up the length of his cock
Sweet fucking hell. His balls tightened up as hard as a fist. The sensation alone was almost too much to handle, but how she worshiped him kicked him up into another dimension.
Finding a rhythm, he watched his thick head move in and out of her mouth. The weeks he’d spent without her had nearly killed him. Everything in his life was flipped upside down, yet with her in it, fell into perfect place. Without her his heart beat only to serve one need, to pump blood and oxygen through his body.
The tip of her tongue traced the pulsing vein along the underside of his cock. His whole body felt the sensation. “Jesus, God in Heaven.” He slammed a palm against the tile, the hunger punching through any shred of civility he had left and running down into a base need. Just then the orgasm threatened the head of his cock. “Damn, Allie,” Hudson hissed. His grip tightened in her hair. “Don’t stop. I’m going to come in your mouth and you’re going to swallow it all.”
A curse exploded out of his mouth, his body bowing forward and his head listing back as his release rocketed out of him and into his hand.
***
After Hudson dressed in his version of “Black Friday”—black pants and a black cashmere V-neck with a gray tee underneath—he hit the button on the elevator to shoot him straight down to the garage. The moment he stepped in, a muffled ring came from his pocket. He yanked the phone out, but before he could give his usual greeting, a cheerful voice fired off on the other end.
“Happy Thanksgiving, bro.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Hudson wasn’t feeling so happy despite his little fantasy session, but for Nick’s sake he was going to sing and dance. “Giving you a feast in that place, or what?” He strode out of the elevator toward his fleet of cars. What he wouldn’t give to have his bike right now, he thought.
“Yeah.” Nick let out a sarcastic laugh. “Mashed potatoes, powdered gravy, and some box shit stuffing. Nothing like Mom used to make.”
Hudson frowned as a memory shot through his mind. Nick had reached way back for that little nugget. Their mom had been gone for years, but it had been even longer since she’d made them a home cooked meal, let alone a holiday spread. “That was a long time ago, Nicky.”
“I know.” Nick’s voice softened. “I miss her, too, Dad.”
Hudson slid into the waiting limo. “To the office.” Max nodded and shut the car door.
“On Thanksgiving?” Nick said. “You work too fucking much.”
“Business doesn’t stop for holidays.” Hudson really didn’t want to get into the subject of his parents right now, or how many hours he clocked, for that matter, so he made a move to flip the convo on its ass. “What else they got going on for you?”
“Movies and shit. And a group session later to talk about how the holidays make us feel.” Nick emphasized the last word but Hudson knew it was for his benefit. Nick was drinking the rehab Kool-Aid at this point, but Hudson couldn’t have cared less. He’d spoon feed the shit to his little brother himself if needed.
“Nicky . . .” His voice trailed off as Max took a turn onto Michigan Avenue at the same time Allie stepped out of a taxi. In his ear he could hear Nick going on about stale food and adolescent games of charades, but Hudson’s focus was on nothing but her. As they idled at the red light, he watched her pull her jacket closed before making her way across the icy sidewalk and into a local coffee shop. He imagined her delivering a complicated order to the barista and a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Hey, bro, gotta jet, apparently an expert bottle cap flicker is needed.” Hudson heard the crack of knuckles through the receiver.
“That’s the best use of your time?”
“Nah, dude, just kidding. Gotta have some fun.” Nick laughed. “Catch ya later?”
“Yeah, Nicky. Proud of you. I’ll see you Sunday.” Hudson pressed the intercom. “Pull over, Max.” He slid forward on the leather bench as the car pulled to the curb and slowed. But when it came to a stop, he paused with his fingers curled around the door handle. Allie had made it clear she wanted nothing more to do with him, no matter how hard he pursued her, and he’d promised to leave her alone if she heard him out. She’d held up her end, it was only fair he did the same. So despite how much he wanted her in his life, Hudson dropped his hand and ordered Max to continue on to Chase Industries.
Chapter Thirteen
Allie pushed through the revolving doors of the Grand Lux Café and took the escalator to the second floor. With its Venetian-inspired décor and soaring ceilings, the Michigan Avenue eatery offered a relaxing atmosphere along with a menu that required nothing short of a binder to hold all the options. But Allie knew her best friend well. The real draw for Harper wasn’t the opulent theme or the entrees that ranged from Malaysian to Caribbean. It was the extensive variety of specialty drinks and the dessert case that ran the length of the lobby that kept the restaurant in Harper’s “Top Ten.”
Stepping off the escalator, Allie found herself directly in front of the glass display of decadence. Her mouth watered at the sight of the molten lava cake and crème brûlée. No way, she thought. The liquid calories she planned to consume would be bad enough. Her thighs certainly didn’t need a few beignets tossed into the mix. With the hours she’d been putting in at Ingram, gym time had grown scarce. And while she was comfortable with her curves, her recent dependence on comfort foods had to stop.
“One for dinner?” the hostess asked.
One for dinner. Were there three more depressing words in the English language? Maybe when followed by “alone at the office.” And although lately that seemed to be the case most nights for Allie, at least on this Thursday night it wasn’t.
“No, actually, I’m meeting someone.” The words had no sooner left her mouth when she caught sight of Harper, her head thrown back midlaugh. “And looks like I just found her.”
Allie made her way to the bar where Harper sat perched on a stool. She wore a purple sweater with a white Peter Pan collar and cuffs, perfectly paired with a whimsical black-and-white polka-dot skirt. The black patent leather Mary Jane pumps seemed almost understated, but they nicely offset the black tights inscribed with literary quotes that ran the length of her leg. Allie thought of the clothing she wore beneath her coat: a conservative black pencil skirt and a white wrap-front blouse. The only things daring about her outfit were the black garter and lace-top stockings hidden underneath. For the life of her, she had no idea why she wore them. It wasn’t like anyone was going to see them. But they’d caught her eye in the drawer when she’d been getting dressed that morning and thoughts of Hudson, teasing her about wearing them on the back of his bike, made her all at once so angry and aroused that she’d put them on in some sort of defiant fit that seemed rather silly now.
As she grew closer, she heard Harper chatting away in an animated voice. “And that is why you will never catch me anywhere nea
r the circus. Ever.” She gave an exaggerated shudder that made her red curls sway from side to side.
“Hey there,” Allie said. “Sorry if you were waiting long.”
“Not at all. And it gave me time to get to know Vince here,” she said, lifting her glass to the bartender and smiling. “He makes a killer pear martini.” A moment later the pager on the bar top began to vibrate and flash red. “Looks like our table is ready.”
The hostess led them through the restaurant, crowded not only with the usual after work customers, but with holiday shoppers laden with bags from nearly every store imaginable, to a booth overlooking Michigan Avenue. The bird’s-eye view of the twinkling lights covering the trees lining the Magnificent Mile only added to the festive atmosphere. Below them the rest of the city was celebrating the holiday season: a car inching through the traffic with an evergreen tree strapped to its roof, a Santa ringing his bell as good Samaritans dropped coins into his kettle, and children staring with wide eyes at the elaborate window displays. Christmas in Chicago was a sight to behold.
Too bad Allie felt like Ebenezer Scrooge.
“Earth to Allie.”
“Sorry.” She reached for her glass of water and took a long sip.
“No problem.” The sympathetic look in Harper’s eyes quickly faded to one of mischief. “But dessert is on you. And I’m not sharing this time, so order your own beignets,” she added with a laugh.
“Deal. Now tell me about Vince.”
Harper shrugged. “Eh.”
Allie’s eyes grew wide. “Eh? Since when do cute bartenders who make killer pear martinis get an ‘eh?’”
“Since I discovered how much med students know about . . . anatomy.”
Allie gaped at her friend, whose cheeks were suddenly as red as her hair. “Harper Hayes, are you blushing?”
“Let’s just say you’re a few episodes behind in this particular soap opera.”
“Sounds like it. So start talking.”
But instead of rattling off the intimate details of her love life, Harper let out a heavy sigh. “I knew this would happen.”
Release Me Page 9
