Page 6 of Hale
“Rylie,” Hudson warns, his body heat behind me, letting me know he’s close. “Stop it.”
Ignoring him, I rub and rub and rub, the tears blurring Dad before me, until I’m being pulled away by strong arms. I kick and flail and scream, but my captor is too powerful. I’m dragged into a private, side room and the door closes behind us.
No longer able to fight, I collapse in Hudson’s grip. Thankfully, he’s strong enough for both of us. I’m unable to carry on with a brave face like he does. Aside from that first night, I barely see any emotion from him. He’s able to compartmentalize his feelings. It’s unfair.
I clutch onto his suit, no doubt smearing Dad’s makeup all over it, as I cry against him. My brother and I have always fought, but right now he’s the strength I need. He hugs me fiercely. His mouth whispers promises that he’ll always take care of me. That together, we won’t be alone.
God, how I want to believe him.
But as soon as this funeral is over, he’ll pack up and leave us. He’ll leave his dead-inside sister and his big-boobed girlfriend. I’ll be left to pick up all the pieces while he throws the ball around and makes America proud.
My heart that aches so badly starts to go numb. The numbness trickles through my veins and bleeds through each nerve ending. I’m as good as alone.
“Everything will be okay,” Hudson vows, mimicking Aunt Becky’s annoying mantra. His words send a flare of anger surging through me.
“No, Huds,” I bite out. “It won’t be okay. Our parents are fucking dead.”
He winces and looks over his shoulder as if he’s embarrassed by my words. The same reaction as always. Any time one of his friends or coaches or another parent might see his obnoxious little sister act out, he’d look over his shoulder. With a furious growl, I shove him away from me.
Despite being much taller than me and carrying at least a hundred pounds more than my small frame, he gets caught off guard. He stumbles and nearly falls on his ass. Anger blazes in his green eyes as he storms over to me. His fingers bite into my biceps as he clutches me.
“Calm the hell down, Rylie,” he snaps.
I try to wriggle from his hold and shove him again, but he yanks me to him. His strong arms lock me in a hug I can’t get out of. My big, mean brother holds me and continues to whisper assurances to me.
For a moment, I believe them.
Together, we believe his lies.
But nothing will ever be fucking okay again.
Ever.
Hudson
Three weeks later…
“You should let me rub the tension from your shoulders,” Jada says, her smile bright and flirtatious.
Nick nudges me with his elbow. “Yeah, Hale. Let Jada rub one out for you.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, forcing a smile.
She waltzes off and I do allow myself to check out her ass. God, I’m a fucking prick. My phone buzzes and it’s like Amy has a sixth sense of anytime I even think about another girl.
Amy: Can you talk?
I type out my response with one hand and knock back a shot with the other.
Me: Studying. I’ll call you tomorrow.
Amy: I miss you.
My eyes lift to meet Jada’s blue ones as she leans forward to pour more tequila into my shot glass. Her big tits are all but spilling out of her shirt. Maybe I find myself attracted to Jada because she reminds me of a naughtier version of Amy. Blond hair. Big blue eyes. Tits that would make most men achingly hard over.
That’s it.
I just miss Amy.
