Page 30 of Too Broken to Love

So far, Hudson had been everything that sixteen-year-old boy hadn’t. But Hudson thought Frank was the only criminal in the family.

She blew out her fears along with her breath and lied about what she needed. “Tell me the things you need to say before the cops come.”

Something dark and dangerous flickered across Hudson’s face. Frustration? As in frustrated because he needed her as much as she needed him?

The look cooled into professionalism, tense and controlled, as he perched on the desk next to her.

“My contact analyzed the photo of Frank you lifted from Fry Jack.”

She gathered her damp hair in her hands. “Wow. That was fast. What did he find?”

“The photo is legit and was taken yesterday.”

The shiver that racked her body had nothing to do with her wet curls spilling from her hands and onto her shoulders. “He’s here.”

Hudson nodded. “My contact also sent me a video he uncovered. He said it’s also legit.”

As Hudson tapped on a message, she recognized the video feed from the casino parking garage in Atlantic City as soon as he hit play. Even though she’d watched it a dozen times last night after she’d procured it from the casino’s network, her breath still caught.

The man breaking into Sam’s car looked exactly like Frank. She couldn’t see his face, but his build and his hair color were the same. He even wore dingy, old clothes that matched Frank’s lack of style.

She stayed quiet until the video ended in case she missed something. “I found this last night.”

He held up a hand as he slid in front of her. “Wait. So, you’re a pretty little hacker too?”

Damn her heart for skipping a beat every time he called her pretty. “Why is it okay for your contact to hack in the name of obtaining valuable information, but not me?”

“I don’t have a good answer for that other than…” He ran his hand through his hair. “Shit. Pop would smack me in the back of the head for the double standard. Guess I shouldn’t underestimate you.”

“Sam always said you were a smart guy.” She took a sip of the energy drink. “That looks like Frank. At first, I thought it was him too, but Frank can’t move in and out of a car half as smoothly as that. He took a fall off a roof when I was sixteen and had to have major back surgery. Rods and pins hold him together.” She detailed the extent of the surgery.

“Damn. That must have been a nasty fall.”

“Yeah. Last time I saw him, he still had decreased mobility.”

“If the police can confirm what you said, this is strong evidence that Frank didn’t tamper with Pop’s car and that someone is framing him for it. Do you remember the name of the hospital he was in?”

“Jacksonville Memorial in Florida. It should be easy to confirm. I’m sure there’s still a hefty bill in his name. As soon as Frank could walk, he snuck out of the hospital. We drove all night until we got to Miami and moved into the first trailer park we came upon.”

“Did he pack you and your mother up and leave town so he didn’t have to pay his bill?”

“That was one of the reasons.” Hudson didn’t need to know that she’d made up a story about a man looking for Frank with a gun. Or that her ruse had spurred Frank into skipping out on his bill sooner rather than later when the truthful rumors the boy at the beach spread about her tore through school.

Hudson took the energy drink from her and brought it to his lips. The cleft in his chin winked as he swallowed and handed her the bottle. “Drink.”

She obeyed and pulled in a gulp. Cold blueberry-flavored liquid flowed down her throat, but that wasn’t why she shivered.

“Did skipping town in the middle of the night happen often?” He took the bottle from her and placed it on the desk.

“Frank was always pissing somebody off he stole from or conned. When he got wind that someone was looking for him, we fled.” She cleared her throat, but masking the melancholy in her tone was futile. “My mom always had a suitcase packed for us with enough clothes for a week along with other essentials. Frank called them our adventure bags. When we went on adventures in the middle of the night, I was allowed to bring the bag and one other item. I always brought⁠—”

She covered her mouth with her hand.

Hudson touched her hip. “What’s wrong?”

A loss she hadn’t thought about until now joined the funeral pyre. Waving off Hudson’s concern, she fought tears. Again. She’d cried so many times in the past day she couldn’t pinpoint reasons. “It’s nothing.”

He caught her wrist in his fingers. “It’s not nothing. Tell me.”