Now I do.
The rage inside me never cools. It sits beneath my skin constantly, hot and bubbling, waiting for an excuse to erupt. Every time Mason’s face flashes through my mind, my hands curl into fists before I can stop them. Sometimes I picture what I’d do to him if I ever got him alone.
The worst part is how easy it is to imagine.
A month ago, thoughts like that would’ve horrified me.
Now they just feel natural.
My stomach twists.
Running my hands through my hair, I tug hard enough to force myself to stop thinking before the spiral drags me under.
My phone buzzes beside me on the bed, dragging me out of my head.
Hudson’s name flashes across the screen. Instantly, my chest relaxes.
He sent a video of some guy we used to play soccer with, splitting his shorts wide open during a penalty kick at his college championship game. Dumbass had apparently decided to go commando; now his twig and berries are viral on the internet.
A rough laugh escapes me.
It’s the first real one I’ve had in weeks.
Still grinning, I finally force myself to scroll through the mountain of missed messages and voicemails I’ve ignored for weeks. I haven’t had the energy to answer the constant questions about Hudson, so Archer’s been updating everyone for me instead.
One person is manageable.
Twelve isn’t.
I delete the voicemails without listening to them and skim through the unread texts, clearing anything out that doesn’t matter.
Just as I delete the last one, another message appears from a blocked number.
UNKNOWN: YOU DID THIS.
My body goes cold.
Another text comes through immediately after.
A video.
My thumb hovers over the screen while my stomach twists violently.
I already know I should delete it, but I press play instead.
The screen is dark at first, just heavy breathing, the only thing I can hear.
Then the camera shifts.
Hudson stands at the edge of the bridge while I scream somewhere behind him, sprinting toward him too late.
For the second time, I watch Hudson step off that ledge.
I sprint to the bathroom, the phone slipping from my hand onto the counter as I barely make it to the toilet in time to throw up.
By the time the nausea eases, my whole body is shaking.
I sink onto the cold tile floor and stare at the video still frozen on my screen, Hud suspended in midair.
