The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You(78)

I wanted to hug her. “Thank you, Mira.”

“No problem.” She watched while I set my suitcase in the rolling position. “Martin can get that.”

“I got it.” I didn’t want to wait to call someone up to carry a suitcase I could manage myself. I scanned the room one more time then started toward the door.

“Laynie.” Mira stopped me before I’d crossed the threshold.

It was difficult to give her my attention when every fiber of my body wanted to go. I fidgeted as I met her eyes.

She took a step toward me, her face soft and compassionate. “I know he loves you,” she said firmly. “I know he does. But he’s been through...things...that’s made it hard for him to open up, so please don’t take that as, well, as evidence of anything if he can’t tell you how he feels.”

My eyes felt misty. Maybe Mira was as snowed as I was, but it felt good to hear. I swallowed hard. “I know.”

“Good.”

“But…” I might never get the chance to have this conversation again. “Why do you believe that? I mean, what makes you think that he loves me, or that he even can?”

Surely Mira knew the things Sophia claimed about her brother. That he was a sociopath, that he couldn’t feel anything for others. Unless all of that had been her mother’s way of riling me up. But I suspected there was more to her claims than that—they were rooted in truth somewhere, a therapist’s opinion, a doctor’s diagnosis.

Mira closed her eyes briefly and blew out a steady stream of air. “I don’t know, Laynie. He’s different around you. I’ve never seen him like he is with you.”

“Maybe you see what you want to believe.”

“Maybe.” She stuck her chin out. “But I’m not giving up on him. I hope you don’t either.”

“I won’t.” But Hudson might have already given up on me.

And, if not me, himself.

Back downstairs, Mira left me in the foyer to grab her phone charger from her car. Jack had gone to the garage to bring the Mercedes up to the circle drive. I paced, waiting for him to pull up.

I sensed Sophia behind me without seeing her. Hoping she’d go away if I didn’t acknowledge her, I kept my eyes focused on the front driveway. I was wrong.

“You shouldn’t be surprised that he left you.”

I still didn’t look at her, but I pictured the satisfied grin she likely wore, imagined myself slapping it off her face. Violence never hurt as much as a good verbal argument, though. Problem was, if I reacted to her bait, she could very well win. Again.

“I told, you he doesn’t feel anything.” She was a warrior. Good at the game. I had no doubt she’d been the one who taught Hudson to be so good at his own games. “For anyone,” she added.

“That’s a lie.” I had no chance against her. She drew the reaction she desired. But if I had to spar, I’d put my best fight into it. “I’ve seen proof to the contrary.”

“Because of how he seems to love you? He’s a good actor.”

I spun to face her. “No, because of how he seems to love you.” I spit the words like venom. “When there’s no reason he should. When you’ve alienated him and betrayed him and destroyed him and made him the confused man he is by your lack of affection and support and faith. If he can continue to care about a piece of shit like you, after all you’ve done to him, then I have no doubt of his capability of love.” You f*cking bitch.

And then I opened the front door and walked out, rolling my suitcase behind me, relieved to see Jack pulling up as I did. Sophia didn’t follow.

Mira had given Jack the charger in the garage. He handed it to me in exchange for my luggage. While he stowed my suitcase in the trunk of the running car, I climbed in the front passenger seat and plugged in the charger and my phone before securing my seatbelt.

We were on the road before my phone had enough charge to turn on. I had twelve texts and four voice messages. I opened the texts and skipped the eleven from Brian, going immediately to the one from Hudson. “Plexis crisis. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

My heart sunk. I should have been grateful that he’d left a message at all, but didn’t I deserve more? He had led me to believe that I did.

I accessed my voicemail with only faint hope. He’d never called me, and I doubted any of the messages were from him. I listened long enough to the first one to hear Brian’s voice then immediately deleted it and skipped to the next one. All were from my brother. All were deleted without a full listen.

Jack was more considerate company than I could possibly ask for. After asking me to enter my address into the GPS, he offered enough small talk for me to understand he was there if I needed him. Then he allowed me to wallow in silence.

For the better part of an hour, I flipped my phone around in my hands, opening the text slider and closing it again without using it. The old me—the crazy, obsessed me—would have already sent a series of messages to Hudson, each heightening in tone and accusations. It took everything in me not to physically do so, but in my head I let myself compose them.

“Why did you go? Are you really on a business trip?”

“I can’t do the on-duty anymore. I quit.”

“Why won’t you let me in?”

“I love you.”