Page 103 of Commit

I grab a napkin and wipe my fingers before taking a swig of my beer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What happened to your mom?”

She pauses for a moment before finishing her bite. “She died when I was a baby. Complications from childbirth.”

“I’m sorry.”

She shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”

“I lost my mom to cancer when I was in elementary school. My father died when I was in the ninth grade. After that, I went a little wild. Eloise was pregnant before the year was out, and in a way, it forced me to grow up. Shame it didn’t stick.” I sigh. “Anyway, my point is, it doesn’t matter how long ago it was, it still hurts.”

“Yeah,” she agrees softly.

“Look, we dug into your dad. We wanted to see if his issues would affect you and Abbot. He spent a lot of time in jail, most of your life.”

Again, she nods, placing the burger on her plate.

“So who did you live with? Or did you end up in the system?”

She looks around the room, like she’s looking for an escape, before her eyes meet mine. “My uncle. I’m going to go to the restroom. Be right back.”

She stands, but I grab her wrist before she leaves. Every muscle in her body is tense.

“Did he hurt you, Birdie?”

She yanks her arm free. “What do you think?”

“I think I need his full name and address so I can return the favor.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Hudson. He’s dead. I’ll be right back.” She’s gone before I can stop her.

I sigh and bang my head against the wall behind me before following her. I catch up to her before she reaches the restroom and drag her into the men’s room instead.

“Hudson! What the hell?”

A guy at the urinal zips up and walks over, a smirk on his face. “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” he says, rubbing his hands together.

I pull back my arm and punch him in the face, knocking him out cold.

“Oh my God,” Starling gasps.

I spin around, pick her up, and set her on the counter next to the sink.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You just knocked someone out!”

“What? Oh, don’t worry about him.” I cup her face. “Your uncle?” I prompt.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Hudson. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Of course it matters. It’s?—”

The door opens, and a drunk guy stumbles in. I storm over and smash the door into his face—once, twice—before he drops to the floor unconscious.

I turn back to Starling and run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t want to upset you,” I tell her as her mouth drops open.

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