Page 52 of Twisted Heathens

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Page 52 of Twisted Heathens

I read on further, curiosity burning as I scan through the brief notes from the psychiatric team that assessed her before she even got to Clearview.

Upon arrest at St Pancras Train station, the patient was detained by police after a 48-hour chase. She has been put in custody to await psych evaluation. Presents with delusional thoughts, visual and auditory hallucinations, violent tendencies and an unstable personality.

See attached incident report for more details.

The cursor hovers over the attached file, but as I click, a box appears to request a security code. Looks like it’s locked for confidentiality and only the warden can give permission to access. I quickly close the screen and take an unsteady breath, glancing at her door. This is why I should mind my own damn business.

Using my computer skills, I quickly erase my presence from the system and catch all the hidden records. This isn’t my first rodeo, and whatever is in that file, it’s nothing good. While I scramble to cover my tracks, the words blaze in my mind.

What exactly did she do?

Despite that, the chances of it affecting this odd possessiveness I feel about her is low. I can’t explain it, the way I get attached to people. Like my heart claims them long before my brain has a chance to catch up. No matter who they are or what they’ve done, once I’m invested, there’s no turning back.

A sharp bang on the desk bell has me jumping in my seat, heart in my mouth. I glance up to find Hudson grinning in amusement. “Hey bro. Got some post for me?”

“Was that really necessary?” I demand.

“Yep, it was. Fucking scaredy cat. What’ve you got to hide?”

I shrug, relieved that I’ve already cleared my laptop. Reaching in my satchel tucked beneath the desk, I pull the expensive cream envelope out and slide it over.

“I was going to bring it to you after work.”

“Don’t bother,” Hudson mutters.

I watch him rip into the letter, eyes scanning over my mother’s elegant writing. She uses personalised stationery emblazoned with all her credentials, much to Hudson’s embarrassment. Our parents are rather image obsessed, but fuck if they don’t love him like he’s their own. No matter how insistent he is on pushing us all away.

“Any good?” I ask hopefully.

“Same shit. Misses me, wants to visit.”

I force myself to keep a reasonable tone, biting back my frustration. “She’s been asking for the last eighteen months. You could give the poor woman a break, Hud. One visit won’t kill you. She’s earned that at least.”

He growls, balling up the letter and tossing it towards the bin, landing a perfect shot. “I told her to forget about me. If I let her see me now, she’ll never let me go.”

I gape at him in disbelief, astounded by the sheer lack of human emotion. “She’s your mother, for Christ’s sake.”

“No. She’s yours,” Hudson argues, expression turning bleak. “I’m just the trash that got brought in and put her to shame.”

His hands ball into fists as he stares at me, completely clueless to the trail of broken bodies he leaves in his wake. She couldn’t care less what he did, she still loves him. Like any good parent would. He’s just too blinded by the past to see that, trapped in his own head.

“She isn’t ashamed of you. Not one bit,” I bite out. “She cares, something you should learn to accept. Keep going and one day, nobody will anymore.”

Before I know it, Hudson’s grabbed hold of my shirt and hauls me up. His face is right in front of mine, furious eyes front and centre.

“I didn’t ask for you to follow me here, brother,” he hisses at me. “Nor do I want it. I did the crime, now I’m doing the time. Don’t talk to me about acceptance when you’re here, wasting your goddamn life away when you could be out there actually living. It’s enough that I’ve ruined my life, you’ve got to add yours to my conscience, too?”

I give Hudson a hard shove, causing him to stumble back and release me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of intimidating me. “I’m only trying to help you. There’s no ulterior motive. You know what my first thought was when I heard what you did?”

Hudson looks away, jaw clenched as he shrugs.

“I didn’t worry about the other guy. I worried about you. What this meant for your life, your future. And more importantly? What the hell I was going to do without my little brother. Someone that came into my life when I was already an adult, but still managed to become family.” I take a deep breath, trying to manage my temper. “You’d do well to think about that when you’re going around beating on people, or fucking and boozing yourself into oblivion. There are people that care about you, even if you don’t.”

He reluctantly listens as I rant, beyond done with his bullshit. When I’m finished, he simply turns on his heel and stalks away. As if I don’t even exist and my words mean nothing. I gave up the best years of my life to be here. To support him and ensure that he isn’t alone in this world. And what do I get for my loyalty?

Nothing. Fucking nothing.

Glancing back down at my screen, I bring up the ID photo that I took for Brooklyn. She actually smiled as I tucked the hair behind her ear, if only for a brief second. Her wide eyes flickered with something other than pain before shutting down again, but I saw it. Something’s there, buried beneath the surface. I’ll find it again, no matter what it takes.




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