Page 30 of Breakaway

“Hey.” His one-word response is lifeless, not an ounce of inflection detected in his voice. “I hate to ask this of you so last minute, but would it be okay if Hudson hung out with you for a few hours?”

“Of course,” I answer easily, a part of me giddy at the idea of seeing the sweet little boy I’ve grown so fond of. “I need to check with Raiden and make sure he isn’t stuck at work, but it shouldn’t be a problem for us to come and get him.”

“I’m already here,” Seth interjects, shocking me silent for several seconds. “Outside. Parked by the bus stop.”

“Okay.” Despite my confusion, I slide my shoes on and head for the door. “I’ll be right out.” He ends the call, clearly uninterested in explaining his sudden need for a babysitter. Spurred on by Seth’s odd behavior, I run straight into Briggs in my haste to get to Hudson.

“Shit.” The bag he’s holding is discarded without a second thought as he reaches out to steady me. “Where’s the fire, Angel? Surely you didn’t try to torch the place a second time. That’s a bit of an overkill for one day, and this place is already going to reek of burnt popcorn for ages. You got a pyro bug I should know about?”

“What?” I shake my head in exasperation, too focused to let his taunting sidetrack me. “Seth just called and asked if I could watch Hudson. He’s outside waiting.” Briggs nods in understanding, then grabs the shopping bag he tossed aside and hands me a bottle of pills.

“These are prenatals. Take one a day, first thing in the morning so you don’t forget. They might make you nauseous, so I got some ginger candies just in case.” My hand shakes as I take the box of lollipops, his kindness so unexpected it borders on painful. When all I’ve ever known is the selfish acts of others, it’s difficult to fathom that people like the guys exist. Sadly, I didn’t even realize Briggs possessed this level of care until today. I squeeze his hand in thanks and scurry towards the bedroom, searching for a hiding spot so Raiden doesn’t stumble across them by accident.

“Can we keep this between us for now?” I glance at Briggs hopefully, crossing my fingers that he’ll leave the how and when of my confession up to me.

“For now,” he agrees, a hint of reluctance tinging his words. “But the truth won’t stay hidden for much longer.” I tug at the hem of my oversized sweatshirt, a subconscious action I’ve picked up since I started showing.

“I know.” I nod my agreement, fully aware that I’m running out of time to come clean on my own terms. He dips his chin and switches the topic seamlessly.

“Let’s go and get little man,” Briggs states, a smile curving my lips at the mention of Hudson.

I quickly traverse the courtyard, ignoring the grumbles behind me about my speed and the dangers of falling. As my feet hit the sidewalk, a sigh of relief escapes me when I spot Seth’s pickup. Briggs keeps step with me as I cross the street, a silent shadow ensuring that no harm comes to me in the twenty feet it takes to reach the opposite side of the road. I pull Hudson’s door open, my heart jumping with excitement when his eyes meet mine. He doesn’t smile, but his hands reach for me as his feet start to kick, and that’s practically the same thing in my book.

“Hi, handsome,” I whisper sweetly, deftly undoing the straps of his car seat.

He jolts forward the second he’s freed, his tiny arms hugging me tightly. I laugh at the enthusiastic greeting, thrilled to know he was missing me just as much as I’ve been missing him. Five days have passed since the last time I was needed to mediate a breakdown in the middle of the night. I thought about calling a thousand times, just to speak with Hudson and make sure they were both doing okay, but I didn’t want to interfere with any progress they might’ve been making. That stretch of silence gave me hope that things were finally going in their favor, but judging by Seth’s appearance, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

His hair is greasy and unkempt, like he hasn’t showered in days, and I’d be lying if I said his declining mental state didn’t worry me. The only solace I find is that Hudson appears to be cared for. I step towards the passenger door, covertly scanning Seth as he stares straight ahead, focused on nothing in particular, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles have turned white. There’s a vacant look in his eyes that scares me, but I push aside my trepidation and greet him through the open window.

“Seth…” I patiently wait for him to turn his attention in my general vicinity, but the effort it takes to meet my eye seems to drain him even more, a feat I didn’t think possible. “What’s going on?” I don’t bother asking if there’s a problem, not when it’s so obvious that something isn’t right with him. The depth of his detachment is chilling, planting new fears I hadn’t considered.

“I’m sorry to spring this on you at the last minute, but I really do appreciate everything you’ve done and continue to do for Hudson.” Seth dodges my question, his gaze pinned to the back of his son’s head. “I shouldn’t be gone for more than a few hours, but I’ll let you know when I’m headed back.”

“I know you’re in a really dark place right now, but you’re not alone, Seth. Whatever you need to do, take your time. We’ll be here, and I promise to keep Hudson safe while you sort yourself out. Just don’t forget that he needs you.” He swallows thickly, averting his eyes as he presses the button to start his truck.

“Thanks again, Andi.”

The second Briggs shuts the door, Seth pulls away. I stand there, watching his truck fade from sight, wondering if he’s even fit to drive in his current state. Exhaling audibly, I shift Hudson’s weight and turn to Briggs, my eyes falling to the car seat he’s holding in one hand and the tablet and sippy cup in the other. Several diapers and a pack of wipes are tucked beneath his arm, his preparedness making my eye twitch. I hadn’t even thought to grab everything we’d need, too lost in my worry for Seth.

“How are you so well-versed in all of this?” I gesture to myself and the items he had the forethought to snag while I was preoccupied.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to judge a book by its cover?” Briggs teases, his eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“I’m not judging,” I insist, my gaze holding his as I attempt to explain the dichotomy of his two personalities. “I’m trying to reconcile the opposing sides of you I’ve come to know. One is sullen and shows no consideration for how his actions affect those around him, but the other is kind and knowledgeable in areas I wouldn’t have thought he’d be interested in. You’ve treated me better than you do your own friends, and that doesn’t make much sense to me.” Unconsciously, my gaze drifts to the macabre artwork etched into his neck, depicting his throat having been ripped apart, the insides exposed in greyscale detailing. It’s graphic, perpetuating a stigma that doesn’t ring true. Without a doubt, the artist responsible for such an intricate tattoo is talented, but it’s disturbing nonetheless.

“Is that really how you see me?” Briggs questions, his head tilted to the side in contemplation. His tone is level, showing no signs that I’ve offended him. “That’s fair, I suppose. But in my defense, I wasn’t always like this. Life has a way of destroying the best parts of a person, and for some reason, we’re still expected to function and carry on like normal, making do with the ragged pieces we’re left with after getting chewed up and spit back out.” I bite my lip, toying with Hudson’s curls to hide the tremble in my hand. His words mirror the inner turmoil I fight persistently, but this rare glimpse of who he is beneath the cold exterior he’s crafted makes me question if we’re more kindred than I thought.

“But to sate your curiosity,” Briggs adds, all traces of the somber moment gone. “I used to be a doctor.” My jaw drops comically, but he pays no mind to my exaggerated reaction, forging on with his revelations as if he didn’t just make my mind implode. “I worked with kids a lot, so it stands to reason I’d know a thing or two.”

There’s so much I want to say right now, so many questions I want to ask, each one more invasive than the last, but his usage of the past tense keeps me quiet. He’s told me a lot about himself without saying much at all. Doctors are naturally inclined to be caretakers, so that explains his softer side and penchant for hovering. Regardless of why he’s no longer practicing, those attributes don’t just disappear, and I can’t help but wonder if his crude facade takes more effort than he lets on.

“And friends is a bit of a stretch, Angel. More like acquaintances who just so happen to cohabitate.” I scoff at his inaccurate summarization of their relationship.

“You might not be exchanging friendship bracelets or braiding each other’s hair, but there’s a degree of fondness between the three of you. You’re fortunate to have people in your corner who’d drop everything and come running if you asked them to.” Briggs’ stare pins me in place, his onyx-colored eyes simmering with something I can’t quite name.

“I wasn’t aware that friendships are elevated by a piece of costume jewelry, but I’ll be sure to get yours made expeditiously, now that I know.” He smirks, pleased with himself for redirecting the conversation once again. “Come on, let’s get inside. The sun is starting to set, and he’s not dressed appropriately for how cool it’s gotten.”

Right on cue, Hudson starts to shiver, his tiny body burrowing closer to mine in search of warmth. Briggs grabs his things and leads us across the street, his head on a swivel as he searches for anything out of place. I’m not sure what he expects to find, but I think our only cause for concern is a wayward journalist trying to get the inside scoop on Veritas. I’ve yet to be approached, but I’m certain they’re close by and lurking, plotting their ambush for the most inopportune time. And while I appreciate the sense of safety Briggs’ presence offers me, I haven’t survived this long by letting my guard down. I’m constantly aware of my surroundings, having learned long ago that surprise attacks are far worse than the ones you can see coming. At least you have a chance to brace for impact when you’re expecting it.