Page 90 of Sardonic Burn

“What did he do?”

Hudson frowns. “What do you mean? He was being suspicious.”

It’s my turn to frown. “You mean to tell me that you only had a feeling that Dylan was acting suspicious, so you kidnapped him and had him locked in your basement?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Any proof to back up your claims, or is it just a gut feeling?”

He grunts in displeasure. “A mix of a gut feeling. Somehow, I thought that he was connected to the bullets that your friend pulled out of me, and then there’s the fact that I cannot stand the motherfucker. Mainly the latter, though.”

“The two of you do not have any single thing connecting you. Why the hell can’t you stand him?”

His mouth opens, then closes like a fish. His jaw is clenched, and a small vein pops on his forehead. It doesn’t last long because he takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“My gut feeling has never been wrong before. It only made me not like him. What’s up with the twenty questions?”

“No reason,” I quickly respond. Almost too quickly. “It’s just that… I don’t condone what you did to him.”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t starve him on purpose. I just… forgot to feed him.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?”

“Why did you torture and whip him?”

Hudson looks at me as if I’ve grown a second head. He blinks a couple of times, brows shooting up to his hairline. Then, a laugh of disbelief fills the deadly silent room, his eyes locked on mine.

“What? Do I really look like the kind of guy to fucking whip someone? I mean, I’m not above that, but I do have more creative ways. Besides, when I wasn’t with you, I was studying.”

“Studying? What for?”

He blinks. “Uh, I’m still in university? My exams are soon?”

“What?”

It slipped my mind that Hudson is younger than me. I also seemed to forget that he’s studying business as his major. With a little laugh, an image of Hudson with glasses, sitting behind a desk with a book in his hands forms in my head. It sends waves of electricity right to my lower stomach, but I’m forced to ignore it.

“Ah, right,” I add. “I forgot. Sorry. So why did you let him go, then? If you thought that he was somehow connected to the attack on you and was acting suspiciously?”

“That’s the thing.” Hudson swallows. “I didn’t. I don’t know how the motherfucker got out. I had him chained to the damn walls.”

I open my mouth to speak, but Hudson is quicker.

“Listen, Noelle.” He sighs. “I understand that he is your fiancé, but he is far too shady. There’s something odd about him and until I can clear those doubts, be careful around him.”

Hudson is absolutely correct. But I can’t tell him that I agree. It means that Dylan is completely blacklisted in my mind and that there is something ugly going on with him. It also means that years of partnership and friendship will go down the drain, and I have yet to gather concrete evidence.

So, I don’t say anything. I’m too afraid of letting go of the familiar; too scared to admit that Dylan would have to die if my suspicions are proven correct.

I push the thoughts to the back of my head and grin at Hudson.

“Oh my.” I laugh. “It almost sounds like you care about me.”

Hudson stands from the chair and appears in front of me in the blink of an eye. I’m still sitting on the kitchen island, andhe cages me between his arms, gripping the marble counter until his knuckles turn white.

He gets nearly too damn close, his breath fanning my lips. There’s a hint of hope glistening behind those hunter eyes, threatening to swallow me whole.

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