You Make Me Weak (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake Book 1) Page 3

  He smiled at the thought.

  “What about the other boys?” John’s voice was a bit stronger now, and Hudson offered him the glass of water sitting on the tray beside the bed.

  “They’re tied up right now.” It was the truth…a sad truth nonetheless.

  His father was silent for a few moments, his chest heaving and rattling as he moved to get more comfortable. “You here for long?”

  Hudson considered his answer for a few seconds. “As long as need be.”

  For the first time, a small smile touched his father’s lips. “You mean until I’m gone.”

  “Yeah. That’s pretty much it.” They’d always had a no-bullshit relationship, so there didn’t seem to be a point in sugarcoating things now.

  “You staying at the house?”

  “I am.”

  “Good.” John Blackwell’s eyes narrowed. “You been by the office yet?”

  The office. The family business that had caused so much discord between himself, his brothers, and his father.

  Tight-lipped, he shook his head. “Not yet, but I’ll swing by tomorrow and make sure everything is running the way it’s supposed to.”

  “You better.” Voice noticeably weaker, John stifled a cough. “Sam Waters is in charge right now because there’s no one else. He’s adequate, but hell, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. And the man weighs damn near three hundred pounds.”

  Sam Waters had been his father’s right-hand man for as long as Hudson could remember, and the man was more than adequate. The Blackwell holdings were diverse, the pockets deep, and there were many safeguards in place to protect the family fortune. He highly doubted the man would be the kind to steal from the hand that fed him.

  “I wouldn’t worry about Sam, but to ease your mind, I’ll make sure everything’s on the up and up.”

  His father nodded, seemingly exhausted, though his eyes burned with a feverish glint. Outside the room, phones rang and muted voices could be heard. But in here, cocooned in a space of illness and unspoken words, there was only silence.

  “I’m glad you’re here, son.”

  Hudson’s throat tightened, and he took a step closer to the bed, but whatever words he would have said died when the door flew open and a nurse walked into the room. She was middle-aged, with a kind, round face, complemented by an equally round figure, an ample chest, and small feet. Her hair, shot through with slivers of gray, was scraped back into a ponytail, and she smiled when she spied Hudson.

  “My word, John. This must be one of your handsome boys.” Her accent was Southern, and he knew she wasn’t from the area. She hustled over to the bed and unwrapped the stethoscope from around her neck. She glanced back at Hudson. “I just have to have a listen, and while I’m doing that, the doctor is outside. I know she’d like to speak to you.”

  With a curt nod, Hudson exited the room and found a tall, slender brunette chatting with a bunch of nurses at reception. She turned and smiled when she saw him.

  “Hudson.”

  Okay. Killer body. Great legs. Nice smile. Green eyes that looked familiar. But who the hell was she?

  Her smile widened as she walked toward him. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  “You got me there.”

  She stood a few inches from him now, a slow smile curving her generous mouth. “I’m Adam Thorne’s sister. Regan.”

  Damn right she was. Those eyes, the same ones that Adam had. If he remembered correctly, she was a couple of years younger than him. Although…

  “You look a lot different than I remember.”

  She laughed. “I sure hope so. The last time I saw you, I had braces, acne, and was on the chubby side. Puberty wasn’t exactly my friend.”

  An image of an overweight, shy girl came to mind. “You decided to stay in Crystal Lake.”

  Her smile widened. “I like it here.” She shrugged. “I had no reason to leave.” Her smile faltered a bit. “We should talk.” She motioned to the lounge, and he followed her over. Once there, she shoved her hands into the pockets of her white jacket and got down to business.

  “So, your father isn’t doing well.”

  There it was. The cold, hard truth. “I can see that.”

  “He’s got fluid on his lungs and heart, his oxygen levels aren’t great, and we’re pretty sure he’s got another blockage in his arteries.”

  “Can’t you unblock it like last time?”

  Regan sighed. “I’m not sure your father will survive another surgery. His heart is weak, and he’s been sick. If we can get him stronger, more stable, then it could be an option but…” Her large eyes were expressive, and he knew the deal.

  “You don’t think it will matter.”

  “I’m sorry, Hudson. I don’t think he’ll live long enough to find out. There’s always a chance. Always hope. But I like my patients and their families to know the reality of the situation, and right now, it’s not good.”

  Hudson exhaled and glanced back at the door leading to his father’s private room. “He’s a tough son of a bitch.”

  “I know. But he’s been fighting for a long time now. I’m just not sure how much fight he’s got left.” Regan glanced at her watch. “I have to make rounds.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Is…is Wyatt coming back?”

  Hudson shook his head. “I’m not sure when he can make it.”

  Her mouth tightened and her eyes flashed—which Hudson might have wondered about if he’d been paying attention, which he wasn’t. And then she was all professional again.

  “Okay. Well. If you have any questions about your dad, don’t hesitate to ask.” She smiled. “It’s good that you’re here. He needs you.”

  “Yeah,” he murmured.

  She took a step back and paused. “You planning on going to the barn dance at the fairgrounds?”

  Surprised, his eyebrows shot up. “They still have that thing?”

  “Damn right they do. We’re all about tradition here. Saturday night of fair weekend.” She glanced at her watch once more and began to back away. “You should come. A lot of the old crowd will be there. Adam and his wife will probably go, and I hear Ethan Burke is back in town too.” She chuckled. “Everyone who leaves seems to come back at some point.”

  He thought of Rebecca and her little boy. He thought of the man they belonged to and gave himself a hard mental shake. He needed to shut that shit down.

  “You should go. Give Adam a call. It might be fun.”

  Hudson smiled but said nothing as he turned and headed back to his father’s room. Adam and the guys, Rebecca—they belonged to a past he’d lost touch with a long time ago, and there was no point in dredging it up now. He pushed open the door, eyes falling to the slight form on the bed. The nurse held his father’s hand, her words so soft and low Hudson couldn’t make them out. His father smiled at whatever she said, and for a second, Hudson caught a glimmer of the man he’d been.

  But the sickly sweet smell that permeated the air couldn’t be ignored. This was his reality now.

  Chapter 4

  Saturday night rolled around much too quickly. Rebecca spent the day helping her mother can tomatoes and rushed home to get Liam fed, so she could drop him off at his friend Michael’s house for a sleepover. She made it back in record time, had a quick shower and change. She pulled on jeans, boots, and a clingy black top that was probably too low-cut for the barn dance, but she didn’t care. She’d just applied her lipstick when the doorbell sounded, followed by footsteps on the worn wooden floors and then the stairs. She grabbed her purse from the bed and reached for her jean jacket just as her girlfriend Violet waltzed into the bedroom like she owned it.

  “Holy. Cowz.” Violet Thorne whistled and leaned against the doorframe as she looked Rebecca up and down. Her vibrant red hair spiked in all directions and her warm brown eyes glittered. A generous mouth painted the deepest red imaginable slowly curved into a smile. “Becca, you look hot as hell. Like, if I swung that way, I’d totally da
te you.”

  “I think Adam would have a problem with that.”

  “Would he, though?” Violet giggled. “Pretty sure that’s every guy’s dream.”

  Becca glanced at herself in the mirror. Had she overdone it?

  Large blue eyes, enhanced with smoky shadow, subtle liner, and delicately shaped brows, popped and stared back at her. Lips glistened, and she hadn’t meant to make her cheekbones look so…so…defined, or her skin so flawless. Wasn’t her fault she found the contour kit she’d been given last Christmas and decided to give it a whirl. It was just sitting there. In the drawer.

  Rebecca leaned forward. Crap. She totally should have scrapped the contour kit. Seriously. She was taking a bartending shift at the barn dance, not going clubbing in the city. She reached for some tissue.

  “Don’t you dare!” Violet walked over and hip-checked her away from the mirror with a wink. “Now let’s go. We’re going to be late, and you know how bitchy Nadine gets.”

  “True.”

  Rebecca followed her girlfriend downstairs and out into the cool night air. Their pal Nadine was a board member for the local fall fair, and she’d roped both Violet and Rebecca into volunteering for a few hours at the dance.

  “Where’s Adam?” Rebecca asked, sliding into Violet’s Jeep. “He staying home with the kids?”

  “God, no. The twins are at his parents’. He was meeting up with some of the guys, and they’ll probably end up at the dance later. That’s if he wants some of this tonight.”

  Violet giggled and slapped her butt. Married eight years, Violet and Adam were still happy and in love, and they made it work. If she didn’t love Violet so much, she’d be jealous as hell, because there’d been a time she wanted all that. But for some mere mortals like Rebecca, the end game never quite happened the way she’d envisioned it.

  Now a little pensive, she leaned forward as they drove across the bridge and then headed along the river toward the fairgrounds. Adam used to hang with Hudson back in the day, and, mouth suddenly dry, she shot a sideways look at Violet.

  “What?” Violet asked, eyebrow raised in question.

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t tell me nothing.” Violet pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine. “I can feel you looking at me, and you’re wearing Hot Spice.”

  “What?”

  “Your lips. Isn’t that Hot Spice?”

  Her fingers touched her bottom lip. Shoot. Violet saw everything. “Hudson’s back in town.” The words fell out of her, and then silence filled the vehicle. It wasn’t often her girlfriend was speechless. But right now, her mouth hung open and no words came out. The redhead shook her head, hands still gripping the steering wheel.

  “What? When?”

  “Since Monday.”

  Violet looked as if her eyes were going to pop right out of her head. “He’s been home for nearly a week and this is the first time you’ve said anything to me?”

  “I’m sorry. I…”

  “It’s like a thing now? Him being home?”

  “No.” Rebecca fell back against her seat. “It’s not a thing. We’re not a thing. I just…” Chest tight, she clamped down her mouth. She didn’t know what she felt, and that was the problem. There was anger there—even after all these years. But seeing him again stirred up a lot more than just anger. And it was the other stuff that confused and scared the hell out of her.

  “You weren’t expecting to see him.” Violet’s voice was gentle. She’d been there, back in the day when things had gone bad. She’d seen what he’d left behind. The mess Rebecca had been.

  “No. He’s the last person I thought I’d ever see back here.” Her voice dropped. “That last night… He said he was never coming back.”

  Outside, the sounds of music drifted on the air, mingled with the happy shouts and merriment from the crowd inside. Rebecca glanced over at the barn, the windows ablaze with light, the people milling about outside, and suddenly, her heart felt so heavy, it hurt.

  “Do you think he’ll be here?” Violet prodded gently.

  Rebecca glanced at her friend. The Hudson she’d seen wasn’t small town anymore. “I doubt it. If Adam didn’t say anything to you, he’s not reached out to any of his old friends, and really, a dorky barn dance doesn’t seem his style.”

  “Do you want me to text Adam and ask if he’s heard from him?”

  Yes.

  “No. God. No. I don’t care either way.”

  Violet made a face, and Rebecca knew her friend didn’t believe a word she was saying. Probably because of the whole Hot Spice thing. Why oh why hadn’t she chosen a more subtle hue? Pink Punch would have been fine.

  “I told Nadine I’d help out, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  “Okay.” Violet reached for the door handle. “Let’s do our duty. But more importantly, let’s have fun.”

  The barn was pretty much at capacity by the time ten o’clock rolled around. The beer flowed, the band was a local favorite and kept the dance floor hopping. Of course the rumors that Crystal Lake’s own bona fide rock star, Cain Black, would appear most likely helped. By the time Rebecca’s shift was over, her nerves had long since settled and she was enjoying herself.

  Everywhere she looked, there were people she knew. People she cared about. People who mattered to her. People who’d made coming back here and leaving an abusive husband behind so much easier than it could have been.

  She was right where she wanted to be and yet…

  “And yet, nothing,” she muttered, tossing her apron to the next shift recruit. She grabbed herself a cold beer and decided it was time to have some fun. Violet nodded toward the dance floor just as the band swung into a rousing version of an old Eagles classic. It had been ages since she’d let her hair down and had fun, and as the music took over, Rebecca let go. She danced until sweat made her hair stick to the back of her neck. Until her cheeks were sore from laughing. Until Adam appeared and claimed his wife. Until the band slowed down and played a slow song that burned right through her.

  Adam kissed his wife, uncaring of the crowd, and his hands moved down Violet’s body until he cupped her butt and drew her as close as two people could be. He whispered something in her ear, and Violet laughed, wrapping her arms around the man she loved. It was a beautiful thing to see, that kind of love between a man and a woman, but Rebecca didn’t want to see it anymore.

  Smile slowly fading, she moved away from the crowd until the shadows that clung to the corner of the room covered her. It felt safe here, and she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, letting the music and melody wash over her. God, she loved this song. And she hated it.

  It was a dark song about desire and hot summer nights. About things forbidden and dangers unseen. About pleasure and regret and consequence.

  The crowd erupted in cheers as a crisp, clear voice sailed over all of them. She knew Cain Black was in the house, and as he nailed every note of the classic, Rebecca slipped farther into the shadows and sang along, her voice soft and sad.

  When the guitar solo sliced through the night, she smiled at the simple artistry that Cain possessed. He made his guitar cry, and it touched her soul, so much so she felt the hot spring of tears sting the corners of her eyes. That thing inside her, the empty space she tried not to think about, it ached. It expanded and grew and stretched so damn tight, it was hard for her to breathe.

  Suddenly in need of fresh air, or maybe some quiet to temper the sadness that had sprung up inside her, Rebecca headed for the doors. Someone called her name—Violet maybe? But she ignored her and pushed her way through the dance floor, bumping into more than a few couples and stepping on more than a few toes.

  Her eyes on the wide doors just beyond the ticket table, she damn near ran over Mrs. Avery, the flower shop lady, and barely managed an apology on her way out. By the time she reached the parking lot, she was wheezing and her chest hurt. She swore because her purse and inhaler were inside, but no way was she ready to go back in the
re. Not yet. Leaning against the nearest truck, she glanced up at the big night sky, and eventually, her breathing slowed.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  But she knew. Didn’t she?

  “You okay?” The voice slid over her like warm whiskey. Just the sound of it sent shivers rippling across her skin, and dammit, there went her heart again. Beating like a freaking drum and making her feel weak.

  Shoot. Me. Now.

  Slowly, Rebecca’s eyes opened. Hudson stood a few feet away, bathed in moonlight or starlight…or whatever the hell beam of light was reserved for the insanely hot and dangerous. It emphasized every single thing about him. The wide shoulders. The long legs. The chiseled, handsome features. The utter masculinity of the man.

  It wasn’t fair. And it pissed her off.

  She pushed away from the truck, letting that anger roll over her. “Are you stalking me now?”

  Was that a small smile touching his lips?

  “No.” He nodded behind her. “That’s my truck, and I forgot my wallet.” The way he looked at her made all sorts of alarm bells go off inside her. The air was thick and heavy. She needed to move but couldn’t.

  She stared across the space between them and nearly took a step forward before she caught hold of her senses and stopped herself. What the hell was wrong with her? This was Hudson Blackwell, for God’s sake. She needed to dismiss him and get on with her night.

  I need to get laid.

  The thought sliced through her brain at about the same time he tilted his head to the side, in that way that was achingly familiar. His dark eyes regarded her, an intense glint within them, and she felt the subtlest vibration travel across her body as they locked gazes. It was like small invisible fingers of lightning lit the air, and this need inside her…this desire to be touched was the conduit.

  It had been ages. Well over a year since she’d felt the touch of a man’s hand. As the band quieted down and the stillness of the evening washed over her, she heard a ragged edge to his breathing. Saw the muscle work its way along his jaw. It was then she knew.