Page 64 of Fragile Heart

We sit in silence for the rest of the ride home, both of us pretending like the other isn’t there. When we park in the driveway, I let myself out of the car and wait by the front door of the house while Hudson discusses something with the driver.

Hudson eventually stalks toward me with a scowl on his face. He unlocks the door and walks inside, leaving me on the doorstep. I follow him to the bedroom, unsure if he even wants me to. I watch as he stands in front of his windows, looking down into the city.

“Hudson,” I say carefully. “Please talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I need you to leave,” he tells me with his back still towards me.

“What?”

“I need you to pack your shit and leave,” he repeats forcefully.

“Hudson, what are you talking about? We’re leaving together tomorrow. I don’t understand.”

He crouches down like he is in physical pain and pulls at his hair. He groans and stands suddenly, still not turning to look at me.

“Quinn!” His voice booms through the room. “I do not want you here.” He enunciates each word as if I wouldn’t understand unless he said them slowly.

I take a deep breath. He might say he wants me to leave, but I don’t believe he does. And even if he wants me to leave, I refuse to leave him when he’s like this. He could be a danger to himself.

“No. I’m not leaving.” I put my hands on my hips.

“Yes, you are,” he growls. Literally growls. I’ve never seen him like this before.

I shake my head even though he still refuses to look at me. “No. I’m not leaving you like this. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Did you think this would actually work between us?”

“What do you mean?”

He finally turns to look at me. He motions between us with his hand. “This. Whatever it is. You didn’t actually believe that you could be my girlfriend, right? That we would live happily ever after?”

I swallow, my throat feeling uncomfortably dry. “I believed what you led me to believe.” He’d made it seem like he cared about me and wanted the same things I did. Things have been easy between us. Comfortable. I don’t believe he’s been pretending this whole time.

He lets out a cold laugh. “I wanted you to believe we’d be together so you’d give up your pussy. And you fell into it so easily. You’re too naive, Quinn. I needed someone to keep me entertained in Georgia, and you were the easiest one to convince.”

“What?” His words feel like a dagger straight to my heart. I feel tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I will not let him see me cry.

“And now I’m done with you, ok? I don’t want to look at you ever again. So I’ll say this one more time. Pack your shit and leave. I’ll buy you a new ticket home. Just get the fuck out of my house.”

The breath is knocked right out of me. I feel my heart shatter into tiny pieces for the second time in my life. This man I trusted, who made me feel special and safe, has turned into someone I’ve never seen before. So cruel. So cold.

The first time my heart was broken, I knew it was coming and had time to prepare myself for Kyle’s death. It hurt like hell when he left this world, but I knew it would.

But this is so unexpected. I can’t believe I put my trust in someone who cares so very little about me. How could I finally open myself up to someone new, only for them to hurt me like this?

He walks to his drawer and pulls out a wad of cash. He counts a few hundred dollars and throws it on the bed between us, like I’m his whore.

“This should get you a plane ticket home.”

I shake my head slowly, not believing the situation unfolding in front of me. “I don’t want anything from you.”

He huffs. “Suit yourself. The car is waiting for you in the driveway. Get your stuff and leave.”

He doesn’t pick up the money, though. Instead, he walks right up to me, stops at my side, and says, “Thanks for the pussy.” He doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t touch me. Just keeps walking like I’m not standing here with my heart bleeding out.

I take a shaky breath, willing my tears to stay put until I’m out of this house. I grab my suitcase and throw all of my stuff into it. Everything is haphazard and unorganized, and I have to sit on it for enough pressure for it to zip.

Before I leave the room, I see Hudson’s phone on the dresser. I unlock it with the code he’s told me before and find his agent’s number in the contacts. I press his number because I don’t know who else to call.

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