Page 21 of Wilde's End
Fucking Hudson.
I turn the name over in my mind. It sounds like a city boy name. He was no less handsome up close today than he was last night, but at least in the daylight, I could make out his imperfections. The dark shadow at his jaw, the uneven set to his lips, the way his dark blond hair curled back from his forehead, showing off his bushy blond eyebrows. And those dirty green eyes …
Rooney can be impressed by the driving all he likes, but there’s something else tugging at me. Something grudgingly like … not respect. Never that. But the way he met me head-on makes me want to go another round with him.
WithHudson.
We pass through town, and I’m half tempted to drive off the road and into the dirt bike parked near where the car normally sits. The bike prickles the warning center of my brain, but I’m already past it before I can make up my mind, and the glimpse of their white car in my rearview mirror makes me refuse to turn around.
We need to keep our distance from the brothers while making sure that everything here is as hard as possible for them.
If I need to break them, then so be it.
The next day, the smallest brother heads into town and comes back with a new burner, two gas bottles, and a bunch of construction equipment. They chain their gear up and move it inside at night so I can’t steal it again.
I guess city boys do learn.
Monday, we intercept a delivery of timber heading for Old End. Rooney doesn’t love the idea of meddling, but he comes with me and convinces the driver we’re meeting him because his truck is too large and heavy for the small road. He unloads it all and leaves. Watching the brothers find the timber and have to strap a few beams to the roof of their car at a time gives me a thrill, and I’m half convinced Hudson will come up to confront me. He doesn’t, which means I need to try harder.
Tuesday, I let the air out of their tires before they wake, and seeing the little one kick a camping chair halfway across the street almost makes me happy.
Wednesday, I break into the houses they’re dismantling and steal every nail and screw I can find. It puts them half a day behind, but they buy more and keep going.
It’s hard to know who’s more irritated: them at all the setbacks or me at how fucking resilient they are.
By Thursday, I have to let it all out. They’ve forced me into playing a game that I don’t have time for, a game they’re set on winning. I’m not used to being out of control, and I hate every second of them existing in my town.
So I take a sledgehammer to the windows of the houses they’ve already gutted, and the sound of shattering glass has Hudson storming outside. He’s half-dressed, and his expression darkens as muscles strain on either side of his wide jaw. Vicious satisfaction spikes through me to see him finally ready to snap.
“What the hell are you doing?” he shouts, red in the face, still struggling into his T-shirt. “That’s destruction of property!”
“What is?” I smash the nearest window for good measure.
“That!” He starts toward me, but I lift the sledgehammer toward him in warning and wait for him to stop. Once I’m sure he’s not going to come any closer, I set it over my shoulder.
“Says who?”
“Says thelaw.”
I take a slow step closer to him, loving the way my proximity riles him up. “There are no laws out here.” Then I swing hard at the house. Timber splinters under the blow, and my muscles work to tug the metal head out of the shallow hole. “Call the cops. Go on.”
Hudson spends a moment chewing on his words, glare cutting deeper into the timber than my sledgehammer did. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“I don’t like you.”
“I dunno …” A twisted smile crosses his face, and he steps so close he slams his chest against mine. I rock back a step from the impact. “You had no issues pinning me to the bed the other night.”
He’s trying to get under my skin, and unfortunately, it works. My teeth grind together, and I have to unlock my jaw to reply. “I pin a lot of people to a lot of beds. Liking them isn’t a requirement.”
“Well, don’t I feel special?”
“Fuck you.”
He bats those obscenely long eyelashes at me. “Are you offering?”
“I’m not fucking playing with you,” I snap. “And if you stay here, I promise I will make every day a living hell.”
“Might want to try a bit harder, then.”
