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“Ma’am.” The female officer steps in front of my line of sight as the car disappears around the corner. “The best thing you can do for him is to come down and give a statement,” she informs me, gesturing toward her car.
Knowing I don’t have a choice, I nod once, allowing the officer to lead me toward the cruiser. Within a minute I’m tucked in the backseat and we’re speeding down the road toward the station, a million thoughts running through my mind.
Is Hudson okay?
Why was he here?
Does he think I was kissing Gage back?
All I can think is that this is my fault. All of it. If I had just ignored Gage when he showed up at my house. If I had gotten up to leave the moment he approached me at the bar. If I hadn’t let him corner me in the parking garage tonight. In a way I feel like maybe I encouraged his behavior. Maybe if I had done things differently none of this would have happened.
Instead, I’m in the back of a police car scared to death that my bad choices may have created a shit storm that won’t be swept under the rug.
My mind drifts to Gage. The way his head rolled. The way his eyes kept fluttering open and closed like he didn’t have the strength to keep them open. The blood that poured from his face. His nose and mouth both swollen and split open. He looked like he had been beaten with a baseball bat. I’ve never seen anything like that in my entire life.
Every worse-case scenario jumps through my mind.
What if he’s not okay?
What if Hudson did damage that can’t be undid?
What if. What if. What if.
Honestly, I didn’t know Hudson had it in him to hurt someone like that. The way he kept hitting him over and over again. The look on his face as he did it. It was like he wasn’t himself. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my entire life. And in that moment I don’t know if I was more scaredforHudson orofhim. I think that’s the most unsettling thing of all. The knowledge that maybe I don’t really know the man I’m in love with as well as I thought I did. I think that terrifies me more than anything else.
