Page 38 of Lucky Laces
Rage in my belly.
At Jim.
At Betty for going mute and not standing up for her kid.
But I keep it carefully banked when I toss their bags on the counter and declare, “I’m taking Hudson home.”
Betty’s eyes go wide.“H-home?”
Jim scowls at me.“What are you talking about, girl?”
Girl?I’m a twenty-eight-year old woman.
God, this man knows no bounds.(And can I just say, I’msoover men?)
But I don’t let myself get sucked into his whirlwind of bullshit.I just say, “There’s your stuff.I’ll call you in the morning with an update.”
Jim’s brows fly up.“An update about what?”
“Hudson.”I jerk my head toward the stairs.“He can’t navigate to the second floor.”
“He—” Jim begins.
I turn and walk toward the front door, tossing over my shoulder, “Bye-bye, now.”
Then I march down the driveway, get into my car, and back out, leaving Hudson’s parents gaping in the open front door.
“Um,” Hudson says as we start down the street.“Want to clue me in DeeDee?”
Dumb.
Dangerous.
And yet, I still keep driving.
And yet, I still say, “I’m taking you home.”
He glances back.“Thatwashome.”
“No”—I slant a glance at him—“tomyhome.”
Twelve
Hudson
I sighand stare at the ceiling.
Same as I’ve been doing for the last few hours.
Ever since Dee helped my heavy ass up and out of her ridiculously tiny car—but then again,she’stiny.Or at least, tiny compared to me.Somehow we made it to the house, she got me settled in her guest room, which was, thank fuck, on the first floor.
Part of the argument she gave my parents for bringing me here.
Though, from the sound of it, she didn’t really argue at all.
Just made a decision and acted.
Christ.
