Chapter Four
Hudson
“Huds, wake up.”
“Mmph,” he replied, which was frankly a lot more polite than Ian deserved. Waking him up at what-the-fuck o’clock on a Sunday? Come on.
“I’m not fucking around. Move over. There was a girl outside looking for you and she’s hurt real bad. We gotta call 911 but I couldn’t leave her outside.”
That made Hudson sit bolt upright. His eyes sprang open to reveal Ian standing there with a—Jesus, that was a girl? Looked like a heap of scraps that had been left outside overnight. Where he could see her feet they were coated in blood and dirt, and her skin was a patchwork of bruises.
He jumped out of bed and dragged the covers off so Ian could put the girl down. Usually he’d call Eric for any situation requiring medical attention but Ian was right, they needed to call an ambulance because she looked godawful.
“Who’d you say she was?” Hudson asked, pulling on a shirt so he wouldn’t be half-naked if she woke up and saw him standing over her.
“She didn’t say. Asked for you but said she didn’t know you. Really fucking weird. Then she tried to leave but when she stood, she passed out and I brought her up here. I’m gonna grab my phone. Keep an eye on her, yeah?”
“Course,” he said, drawing the comforter up to her chin so she wouldn’t be cold or so exposed.
While Ian went to get his phone and went upstairs to bang on Ryker’s door, Hudson studied the girl to see if he couldn’t figure out who she was. Asked for him by name but then said she didn’t know him? What was up with that? And how the hell was he supposed to recognize her when her face resembled raw hamburger more than anything else? Anyone who did this to another human being should be drawn and quartered. What the fuck kind of monster—
It was when he saw her hair that he placed her. Darker brown than his but not the black of Ryker’s, and cut short. Not in a way that looked like it would be fashionable if you gave it a wash and maybe threw a little product in it, either. Nah, it looked way too uneven and choppy, and that’s when his imagination could do that magic eraser thing.
It was the girl from last night. The one he’d tried to talk to. The one who’d told him to go away. The one who’d seemed petrified.
She and the guy she’d come with had disappeared soon after he’d talked to her, and he’d regretted not insisting on waiting with her so he could talk to her top. Now he regretted it a thousand times more.
How in the hell had she ended up here? Where had she come from and what had happened to her? His stomach dropped as he imagined what had happened. Was this his fault? He’d given her his card—forced her to take it, actually—and if she’d kept it and her top had found it and thought she’d been cheating…
Fuck.
He knew some men who could be fiercely possessive of their partners but none of them would ever do this to their partners, not ever.
The girl turned her head on the pillow, leaving blood stains on the pale blue fabric of the pillowcase and she made a small pained cry. Poor little thing.
He could hear Ian on the phone with a dispatcher, and he wanted to yell for him to hang up. Thing was, he knew she needed to go to the hospital, knew she needed more care than they—or even Eric—could give her but he hated the idea of strangers taking her away. She was gonna be so scared.
It was crazy thinking that way given that he’d talked to her for all of five minutes last night, but there had obviously been something there if she’d come here when she needed help. Besides, this was what he did. Collected strays. So as far as he was concerned—despite not knowing her name—she was his now. His to help. His to heal, his to nurture, his to protect, and if she wanted to be kept, his to keep.
A raised voice outside the door caught his attention—no doubt Ryker had some thoughts about Ian bringing a battered woman into their house. Thoughts about police and lawyers and all that practical stuff he always had in his head. Well, Hudson would let the two of them have it out. His only responsibility was to this tiny little heap of a girl in front of him. She was so small she’d practically fit in a teapot. Little darling.
It was then that her lashes fluttered and her eyes cracked open. The second they did, she opened her mouth and scrambled to sit up, making the most pathetic noises he’d ever heard, like every movement was painful. It probably was, given the shape she was in.
“Hey,” he said, not knowing what else to say. “It’s me, Hudson. From last night? You talked to my roommate Ian outside and then you passed out. He brought you up to our apartment. You’re in my bed and there’s an ambulance on the way. We just wanted to keep you warm and safe until they got here.”
She blinked at him as well as she could with one eye swollen shut and eyed him warily. Didn’t say anything.
“It’s okay,” he assured her, his heart hurting that she was so afraid. “I’m glad you came. I told you if you needed anything, anytime, I’d be there. I meant it.”
Her chin trembled and tears slipped down her cheeks and he couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want to hurt her but he needed to hold her, offer her comfort.
He knew he wasn’t the best with words and he didn’t know her well enough to know what else might make her feel better. He did know he was a world class cuddler, though, so that’s what he’d offer her.
Hudson sat with his back to the headboard and then scooped her up, comforter and all, and cradled her in his lap, murmuring the whole time.
“There you go, sweet girl. Just relax. You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to hurt you, promise. I’ll just hold you until the ambulance comes, warm you up. I’m good at that. Like a big teddybear.”
Her body was rigid in his arms for a few seconds and he worried he’d made a big mistake—he wouldn’t blame her if she couldn’t stand contact. But then she melted. Or fell apart, it was hard to tell which.