Page 46 of Breakaway

“You think I’m bullshittin’?” Briggs perks up, tilting me backward so I can get a clear view of the seriousness plastered across his face. “We’re edging towards something dangerous, Angel. Surely you can see that. I’m not the only one who looks at you the way I do.”

“What way is that?” I whisper, knowing I shouldn’t ask but desperate to hear the answer.

“Don’t be coy, Angel. You see the way each of us watches you, like we’ve been stumbling through the dark for ages, and suddenly…there you are. The brightest fucking light, casting out the shadows that are constantly chasing us. I might not be oblivious to it, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with it either. As far as I’m concerned, their feelings are irrelevant because I have no intention of giving up on the idea of us. You might not see it yet, how great we can be, but I’m confident you’ll get there.”

I have to bite my bottom lip to keep it from trembling, the sting grounding me and clearing the haze of wishful thinking from my muddled mind. I wish we could have what he’s describing, but this image he’s concocting is nothing short of a fairytale. I say nothing to dissuade his fantasy, a part of me clinging to the hope that Briggs seems to have an abundance of, needing one of us to believe we’re destined for more than misery. Instead, I close my eyes, allowing this alternate life he’s dreamt up to lull me to sleep.

The low murmuring of voices drags me from my slumber, the last remnants of sunlight casting a warm glow around the room. Briggs is still nestled against my back with his arm slung protectively across my front. I desperately need the bathroom, so I try my hardest to wiggle away without waking him. As if zeroed in on every minute movement I make, Briggs stirs, yawning dramatically as he pulls himself upright.

“What time is it and why the fuck are we awake?” His question seems rhetorical, but I respond anyway.

“I’d guess it’s dinnertime, and I need to pee.” I make quick work of fleeing to the bathroom, locking myself inside so I can relieve my bladder. The added pressure of a growing baby definitely doesn’t help matters. By the time I’ve rejoined Briggs, he’s waiting by the door, looking marginally more alert than he did just a few moments ago.

“Figured you’d want this,” he states, handing me an oversized sweatshirt.

“Thanks,” I mutter, quickly covering myself before we join the others. I have no idea what they’ve been up to. I was too detached when we first got back to be aware of anything really. A few hours of sleep must have done me some good because all I want is to come together and brainstorm a way to get Hudson back. I can’t fathom leaving him to be another casualty of the system that far too often fails those it was designed to protect.

“After you.” Briggs holds the door open, patiently waiting for me to exit first. The voices that woke me grow louder as we enter the main living area. Raiden is the first to notice our arrival, striding across the room to reach me. His hand cups the back of my head as he pulls me against his chest, the heavy exhale he releases fluttering my hair.

“Sleep okay?”

“Not too bad,” I answer, my stomach deciding it’s the perfect time to voice its displeasure at being denied sustenance for several hours too long.

“Food. Now,” Briggs orders, his bossiness something I’ve grown to anticipate.

“If you can hold off for just a bit longer, Royce and Rita should be here any minute with dinner,” Colsen interjects, his gaze lingering, searching for any sign that my carefully reconstructed heart isn’t about to come unglued again. His concern is warranted, because truth be told, it feels like it could shatter at any moment.

“Snack on this in the meantime,” Briggs demands, handing me a yogurt that proudly boasts its protein content across the front.

“Now that things have somewhat settled, would one of you like to explain how you were at the courthouse when everything went to shit, if you were both supposed to be at work on opposite sides of town?” I question, my gaze challenging as I wait for Dayton and Colsen to string together something that’s remotely believable.

“If this is going to turn into a lecture, maybe it’s best you believe that we just so happened to be driving by. Coincidentally. At the same time,” Dayton jokes, his exaggerated look of innocence doing nothing to help his credibility.

“Sure,” I snort, licking the last bit of yogurt off my spoon. It’s on the tip of my tongue to call him out for going against my wishes and showing up anyway when there’s a knock at the door. Colsen steps forward, pulling it open to greet his boss, his arms laden with bags of takeout. Rita slips inside, her teary eyes zeroed in on me before rushing forward and wrapping her arms around me. It takes me by surprise, the way she so easily shows affection and concern for someone she barely knows, but I quickly recover, returning her hug just as fiercely.

“I’m so sorry, dear,” she whispers, her voice drenched in sorrow. Rita’s sincerity makes my throat tighten, emotions clogging my airway and forcing me to breathe through the panic that’s desperately trying to breach the surface of my tenuously constructed facade. Support systems are a foreign concept to me, so to have so many people in my corner is a staggering realization to wrap my mind around.

“Let the girl breathe, Rita,” Roy teases, his sad smile a poor imitation of the jovial one I’m so used to seeing. “Come here, sweetheart.” He nudges Rita aside, quickly taking her place so he can offer his own form of comfort. I sink against his warm embrace, wondering if this is what it’s supposed to feel like to have someone fatherly in your life. In the short time I’ve known Royce DuPont, he’s shown me more compassion and kindness than my parents ever thought to extend to their own flesh and blood.

“Time to eat,” Briggs states, rummaging through the bags of food he certainly didn’t pay for. The scent of perfectly charred meat fills the air, making my hunger more obvious. A burger is placed in front of me, along with a side of fries. Seeing as Raiden doesn’t have a table big enough to fit everyone, we spread out across the living room, pulling over a couple of barstools to supplement his lack of seating. It’s quiet for the first few minutes, just the occasional sound of someone clinking their fork or popping the top on a bottle of beer. The silence is edging towards uncomfortable when Raiden finally sets his plate aside and clears his throat.

“I have a contact I reached out to who works with social services,” he starts, heaving a sigh as his dark brown eyes find mine. “Hudson’s been placed with a family that resides in his hometown, seeing as his case falls within their jurisdiction. She assured me they’re good people. No complaints or marks against their record. I know it’s not much comfort, but I wanted you to know that he’s okay.” My heart sinks to the soles of my feet, anxiety twisting my stomach and causing my appetite to disappear.

“I can’t stop thinking about what he’s doing. If he’s okay or having a meltdown. I keep picturing that first night Seth called us to his house and finding Hudson inconsolable.” I swipe beneath my eyes, knowing my tears can’t be hidden. “How did this happen?” I question again, my choked whisper directed at Raiden, begging him to give me an explanation that makes sense.

“He had every tool at his disposal, Andi. He’s been trained to execute a target in a matter of seconds,” he states, then cringes at the unintentional crassness of his response. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong.” Raiden stands, dragging his fingers through his hair in frustration as he begins to pace. “Looking back at the last few text messages we exchanged, I think he was being purposely vague in his responses. He didn’t lie about what he was doing, just skirted past the details. He never said he wouldn’t be at the hearing today. Instead, he told me what else he had going on at the same time and let me make my own assumptions.”

“Same with me,” I agree, thinking back to our last text thread, searching for any hint of what he was planning that I might have missed initially.

“He didn’t want to implicate you,” Briggs mumbles, speaking his thoughts aloud. “He was truthful to a certain degree, but didn’t want you to be aware of anything that could ultimately fall back on either of you. If you didn’t know he was going to be at the courthouse, and there’s physical proof of that, then there’s no way to accuse you of conspiring with him to plot Tobias’ murder.”

“That makes sense, but he didn’t account for Ada being there,” I sigh, remnants of her knowing grin flashing through my mind and making my skin pebble with goosebumps.

“Wait, Tobias’ mother was there?” Rita asks, her disbelief a mirror image of my own when faced with such an unexpected deviation from how our morning was meant to go. If only I had known then that Ada’s presence was the least of my worries compared to what the day held in store for us.

“Unfortunately,” I grumble, rubbing at my temples to ease the pressure building behind my eyelids. “Apparently, it’s a part of Ada’s treatment. If it’s meant to actually help, or simply get a better idea of her intentions, has yet to be determined.”

“That’s…unfortunate.” Rita winces, likely thinking about the implications of her choosing to be in attendance today of all days. Regardless of how much I loathe the woman, she still watched her son die. Horrifically.