Headlights on the other side of the highway intermittently illuminated the car, highlighting her face and allowing him to steal a glimpse of her. His eyes glided over Allie’s delicate profile before looking back at the road in front of him. Her attempts at making conversation with his monosyllabic responses had been getting them nowhere, but as the towering skyline of the city appeared in the distance, she tried again.

“Do you have a busy day tomorrow?” she asked.

“Shit.” He reached for his phone and turned it on. The thing lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree with notifications of missed messages, e-mails, and texts. All that was missing were smoke signals.

Hudson hit the voice mail and Nick’s panicked voice came over the speaker. “It’s me. Call me as soon as you get this.” There was a low, deep sigh, then his voice grew stronger. “Where the fuck are you?”

The message ended and another began to play, then another and another. With each one Nick sounded progressively worse, spiraling into a full-blown panic attack. Hudson cursed under his breath when the next message began to play and that raspy, heavy with nicotine voice filled the car.

“Hudson, my man, need to get your ass down here . . .”

He snapped the cell out of the cradle and pressed it to his ear. He could feel Allie watching him as he curbed the SUV in front of his building and shifted into park.

“I need to get Nick. Go on upstairs and make yourself at home.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” His tone was insistent. “Wait for me.” He lifted his hips, reached into the pocket of his jeans, and pulled a card out of his wallet. “For the elevator,” he said, handing it to her. “It will take you straight up.”

Her hand gripped the door handle. “Is Nick okay?” The worry in her voice was palpable. He wanted to take her face between his hands and tell her everything was going to be fine, but he didn’t know that it would be.

“Yeah . . . I think.” He pushed the speed dial on his phone and held it up to his ear as Allie reluctantly got out of the car. With a screech, he merged with the oncoming traffic. In his rearview mirror he could still see Allie standing at the curb, watching him.

When the call was answered he didn’t wait for hello. “How bad?” he barked into the phone, speeding through a yellow light just as it changed to red.

***

The bar owner cocked his fingers like a gun and pointed in the direction of the back room as soon as Hudson walked through the door. His stomach turned as he made his way through the dingy establishment. The place never seemed to lose that stale beer stench and must have been breaking about a dozen health codes.

Cranking the knob, Hudson walked into the back room, only for his stride to falter. He stumbled back a step and shoved his hand into his hair. The gruesome scene was straight out of his recurring nightmare. Blood, lots of it, and front and center a man was sprawled unconscious. Not wanting to touch the guy, Hudson nudged him with his foot. Nothing.

He looked to Nick and found him pacing like a caged animal. There were a couple contusions already starting to swell on his face, and blood trailed from a cut below his eye, dripping off his chin.

Hudson’s eyes dropped to the DOA with the cracked skull and the remnants of a broken chair beside him. Blood pooled under the guy’s head, his greasy hair marinating in the dense liquid. As it began to ooze toward Hudson’s shoes, images flashed in rapid succession. A gunshot. Blood-soaked jeans. His father shouting.

Turning his back on the scene, Hudson drew a deep breath and put a lockdown on his memories. He shut the door, then pegged his little brother with a hard stare. “What the fuck happened, Nick?”

“It was an accident, Hudson, I swear. The bastard was going to kill me.” Nick paced back and forth, back and forth. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

Hudson’s eyes tracked Nick’s movements. “Who is he?”

Nick stopped pacing and his shell-shocked eyes focused on Hudson. “He’s . . . ah, just a guy I know.”

Hudson’s glare narrowed. “Bullshit. Who the fuck is he, Nick?”

“My . . . yeah, my dealer.”

“What happened?” he said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t want to get you involved.”

“Too late.” He grabbed Nick by the collar and pushed him into a chair. “Start talking. Now.”

“I don’t know, man, it all went down so fast. I guess he hit his head.” Nick blew out a breath and wiped his palms on his thighs. “He wanted the money I owe him. I told him I didn’t have it and he went crazy, started coming after me with a fucking chair.”

Hudson’s eyes flicked down to the broken chair, now suited for kindling.

“He was beating the shit out of me, bro. I’m pretty sure he woulda killed me if I hadn’t pushed him.”

“Fuck, Nick.” Hudson knew his brother was on the up and up. When shit got real, Nick’s instincts had kicked into gear, refusing to take a beatdown of the six-feet-under variety. But what a fucking mess. The press would have a field day with this one, and the DA would fry Nick just to prove relatives of the rich and famous weren’t above the law. Hell if he was going to lose his brother to another system, one he’d have no chance of getting him out of even with his means and a team of lawyers.

The door creaked open and Hudson shot Nick a shut-the-fuck-up look.

“You two about done with the family reunion?”

Hudson heard the rasp of a lighter and turned to find the bar owner lighting up another one. “Anyone else know?”

“No, in this part of town you mind your own fucking business. Most of the guys in here have records as long as my arm.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “They’re gonna scatter like roaches if the cops start poking around.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” Hudson flipped open his wallet. “I’m sure in this neighborhood another dead junkie isn’t breaking news.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t believe the shit we find in the trash out back.”

Hudson thumbed through a stack of benji’s, counting them off while the bar owner watched like a salivating dog. “Consider this a down payment.”

Chapter Thirty-four

Allie was staring blankly at the television screen, mindlessly flipping through hundreds of channels, when she heard the distant ping of the elevator. Finally! It had been almost two hours since Hudson had left her on the sidewalk in front of his penthouse, and she was going out of her mind with worry.

She scrambled off the couch and flew down the stairs, reaching the bottom just as the elevator doors slid open.

Hudson stepped off first. His face was set in hard lines as he strode through the foyer without so much as a glance in her direction. Nick was tight on his heels with his head down and his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

Self-conscious, Allie tugged at the hem of her borrowed T-shirt. With her suitcase still in the car, it wasn’t like she’d had many options. But it had been ten years since she’d seen Nick, and although Hudson’s shirt was plenty long enough, she wouldn’t have changed for bed if she’d known he was coming over. Then again, this was hardly the typical reunion.

She hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, then cleared her throat and kept it simple. “Hi, Nick.”

He stopped short at the sound of her voice. “Oh hey, Allie. I didn’t know you were here.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God . . .”

Nick’s clothes were splattered with blood and his face had been horribly beaten. He stared at her like a deer in headlights before tucking his head back down and following his brother into the penthouse.

Allie was right behind him.

She found them in the kitchen. Hudson radiated a barely restrained fury, opening and closing cabinets with more force than necessary until he found a bottle of Blue Label. He poured himself a sizable shot while Nick stood quietly at the end of the breakfast bar, shifting from one foot to the other. Waiting for instructions, she presumed.