Page 66 of Commit

“No problem, sir.”

Hudson takes my hand and holds it up so my palm is pressed against his. Threading his fingers through mine, he folds them down so our his and her tattoos are touching.

“Things will be better now. You’ll see.”

You can’t reason with crazy, so I don’t bother trying.

“We’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

“It will be, you know.”

“What?”

“Okay. Everything will be okay.”

“You can tell yourself that all you want, but it won’t be. You’ll see.”

“Tomorrow’s problems,” he murmurs. “Lean on me and get some more sleep. You’re exhausted.”

He has no idea how true that statement is. I close my eyes, but sleep won’t come. My brain won’t switch off with so much running through it.

When we get to the plane, I’m kinda amazed. I’ve never been on a private plane before. Well, not that I can remember. It’s a little intimidating, but at least I don’t have to deal with a bunch of other passengers. That’s more than I can handle right now. The seats are all cream leather and look like recliners on one side of the plane and sofas on the other side.

“Take a seat, Birdie. We’ll be taking off shortly.”

I nod and take a seat near the window. Hudson sits beside me, and I turn to look out the window. I’m married. A tear falls, and exhaustion hits. As soon as we’re in the air, I close my eyes.

By the time we make it home, the sun is rising, painting the house in hues of lavender and pink. I stand with my hand on the door, scared to go inside.

Hudson opens the door before he scoops me up and carries me in with a smile. “It’s tradition.”

For happy couples, I almost blurt out. But a lifetime of biting my tongue has trained me for this moment.

He gently sets me down and turns me to look at him.

“Go on up and get settled. I won’t be long. I just need to make a couple of calls.”

Glad for the reprieve, I nod and head for the stairs.

“Oh, and, Birdie? You’ll be sharing my bed from now on.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Hudson

She stands like a perfectly sculpted statue before her shoulders drop, and she walks away without a word.

I head back out to the car to grab my bag and Starlings school bag from yesterday when my cell phone rings, making me frown.

I pull it out and see that it’s Kenzo. Nothing good ever comes from Kenzo at six-thirty in the morning.

“Fuck’s sake,” I answer as I walk back into the house and drop the bags on my way to the den so I can look outside. I see the cherry blossom tree swaying in the breeze and think about Starling’s wedding band and what that will look like wrapped around my cock. “It’s six-thirty, Kenzo.”

“I know. I’ve been up for fucking hours. You’re lucky you took the plane, or I would’ve called you at three.”

I don’t ask him how he knew I had the plane or that I was back. Atlas probably told him, and the plane has tracking just like all our vehicles do.