Page 165 of The Exit Strategy

“You never had to do this alone, Cole. Do you understand that? We each bring a different set of skills to this little fucked-up family we’ve created. All you had to do was ask. The not-asking is what caused all this…harm.”

“I know that too.” I stand and tug at my collar. It’s like I can’t get enough air. “Everything has changed, Hud. I—I need help.” Fuck, I hate this. I hate putting everyone in this position. “I don’t know what Natalie will do now. I made sure I took Junie off everything but the deed to the Brookline house, but you’re right about a paper trail. If Natalie?—”

“Give me access to everything.” He’s already typing into his phone. “Every shred of evidence you have. Especially the loans you took out?—”

“If I hadn’t taken over the debt, Junie would’ve lost her house. Her credit wouldn’t have recovered for years. Her dreams would’ve been shattered because she would’ve pushed, and when it came to light what her parents had done, the way they falsified the loan documents, she would’ve been implicated too—they made sure of it. No one would hire a forensic accountant with that kind of shit on their record. She would’ve been held responsible for the defaulted loans, Hud. Her name was on everything, and she was about to turn eighteen.”

It’s so similar to what Devin did to me. Hudson must be thinking the same thing because he peers up at me with questions floating in his eyes.

“I think Devin found my files,” I confirm. “He saw what Junie’s mother had done, what I did to fix it, then turned around and did the same shit to me. He had a drinkingproblem in college, but I thought he had gotten sober. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“We’ll deal with Devin. I just have one question.” A hint of a grin appears on his face. “Are you the reason for Tommy’s missing teeth?”

I close my eyes. “I beat the shit out of him in the back alley of a bar in Southy. No one stopped me, and I’m sure there are witnesses somewhere.”

Hudson shakes his head. “You’re a better man than me, Cole, because I’m pretty sure I would’ve killed him. If you give me access to everything, and I mean fucking everything, I’ll bury him another way.”

Reaching into my pocket, I hand him my keys. “It’s all in the bottom drawer of my desk upstairs.”

“I let Natalie know last night that if she does anything else with the legal documents she has, she’ll be complicit, and I’ll go after her with everything I have. It should at least buy us some time there.” Hudson can be terrifying.

Hudson pockets the keys. He doesn’t hug me. He doesn’t say it’s okay.

It’s not. Nothing is okay right now.

But for the first time in hours, I can almost see the prospect of okay.

Fen arrives aroundnoon from California with a leather duffle bag, a portfolio of crisis-management material he prepared overnight, and the worst expression I’ve ever seen on Fenway Jones.

He stands at the bottom of the stairs I still haven’t moved from. The glare he sends my way tosses a boulder at the guilt that’s been building in my chest.

“You absolute fuckingcoward.”

Hudson has apparently joined us on the porch because I hear him chuckle behind me.

“Hi, Fen.”

“Don’thi, Fenme, Cole. Don’t you darehi, Fenme. Do you have any idea what I’ve been doing for the last twelve hours? Any idea?”

He tosses his duffle onto the ground, grimaces, picks it up, and throws it to the porch.

“I’ve been on the phone with my personal publicist about your fake fiancée while you were being blackmailed by my literal college nemesis over something your fake fiancée’s mother did.”

He takes three long seconds to glare at me. “I’ve been doing damage control for Junie’s career while you were paying that witch with your own fucking designs and the fucking Mercer parents from hell with your soul. I’m a crisis communications pro-fess-ion-al and I’ve been crisis managing your girl’s image for six weeks while not knowing an entirely new crisis was happening inside the same room! You know what that is, Cole? That’s malpractice.”

Hudson clears his throat, but Fen presses on.

“On you, not me. You committed malpractice on my friendship.” Actual spittle flies from the corner of Fen’s mouth.

“Fen.”

“I am not done.”

“Okay.”

Hudson moves closer. He might expect Fen to take a swing at me. Who knows, maybe he will, but I won’t fight back. Not about this.

Fen climbs one step.