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Filthy Rich Bastard by Evie Monroe, KB Winters (18)

Chapter 18

Hudson

For most people, there would have been a sense of homecoming when they arrived back in their hometown. That warm feeling wasn’t there for me. I’d checked into a hotel when I’d arrived and crashed until morning, barely waking long enough for meals, to listen to bullshit news stories, and to drink myself into a stupor until the world faded, and I was asleep again.

Even though I’d disconnected my cell, I found myself checking the blank screen every so often and growing pissed when it blinked with “no signal.”

Rolling out of bed, I ordered pancakes and a shitload of bacon for breakfast and headed for the bathroom.

The shower was huge, bigger than my entire bathroom as a child, and I blasted it as cold and hard as it could go. I shrugged out of my pajama bottoms and stepped into the razor-like blasts of water.

It woke me up for what felt like the first time in days, so I stayed under the spray until my body was as numb as I was feeling.

I dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, leaving my feet bare and my hair dripping as I let room service in.

I couldn’t help but compare that morning to the one only a short week earlier when I’d been surrounded by the love and laughter and the smell of fresh French toast at Mia’s parents’ in California.

As fluffy as the pancakes were and as crispy as the bacon was, it fell short. It tasted like shit and made me feel even worse.

The suite I’d booked was magnificent. Bigger than my childhood home with a view that rivaled my beloved office view in Portland, but it failed to make an impact.

I padded to the bedroom, brushed my teeth, and went through the motions without thinking. Surprisingly, I even managed to shave.

It was time to get my head back in the game. To do that, I needed a phone. Then, I needed to put the past to rest and find my brother.

Dakota should still be working construction at the same place, otherwise, they’d be able to point me in the right direction if his number had changed since we’d last spoken.

I wolfed down my breakfast and set out to find a new phone and track down my brother.

It was easy enough finding a cell provider and getting a new number. I fired off texts to Henry and Jenny and was considering one to Mia when I arrived at Dakota’s construction site.

“You looking for someone, sir?” the security guard asked.

“Yeah, Dakota Blake?”

He repeated Kota’s name into his communications system, and I listened to it crackle before someone came through.

“Who’s asking?” Dakota’s voice barked through the receiver.

“Hudson, I’m his brother,” I informed the security guard, completely prepared for the string of curses Kota let loose at the mention of my name.

“What the fuck do you want, Hudson?” Dakota asked, his voice tinny and distant over the security guard’s walkie-talkie.

The guard unclipped it and offered it to me. “I just want to talk, Kota. What time are you finishing up?”

“What the fuck do you want to talk about, Hudson?” His voice was gruff, cold.

I hesitated at the resentment I heard in his tone. “I’m not doing this over a fucking comms system, Kota. Will you be free for lunch?”

He was quiet for so long, I looked questioningly at the guard. He shrugged and shook his head. “It shouldn’t have lost signal.”

“I’m here, Hudson. I’ll meet you out front for lunch.”

I swore I’d bitten into ice cubes that sounded more forgiving. “Sure thing, Kota.” I breathed, relief already lessening the burden on my shoulders.

True to his word, Dakota met me on the street outside of his construction site an hour later. I wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d blown me off, but I was still relieved he hadn’t. My talk with Mia about her life without Ryan had opened my eyes to how petty I was being about Dakota.

There was no awkward hug, no handshake. Dakota stuffed his hands in his jeans. His shoulders hunched as he approached me. I had a weary look in my eyes that stared back at me from his face.

It was uncanny how much we looked alike, despite the two-year age difference. Our mother used to tell people we were twins, saying one of us was either too big or too small.

“What do you want, Hudson?” Kota lifted a heavy brow at me, his eyes distrustful and his stance defensive.

“I just want to have lunch with my brother, is that so unheard of?” I was going for nonchalant, but the look in Dakota’s eyes told me he’d taken it as a challenge.

I didn’t understand my brother, yet I understood him better than I did myself sometimes. “It is when your brother is the notorious Hudson Blake. What are you even doing back here?”

My brows were knitted together. “I’ll explain if you have lunch with me.”

“Fine, but it’s my pick and your treat.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Kota.”

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered, but led the way to a homestyle bistro nearby.

We ordered enough food to feed an army, and Kota ordered a double shot of scotch on the rocks.

“You’re allowed to drink on the job?” I raised a brow, not meaning to be condescending, but apparently coming across as an asshole anyway.

Dakota scowled at me. “Not that it has anything to do with you, but my shift is over. What do you fucking care?”

“I do care, Kota. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” I answered as sincerely as I could.

“Yeah, you didn’t give a fuck about that when you fled to the land of milk and honey and left me here to take care of Mom and Dad.”

I cringed. I couldn’t deny it. “I had to get out, Kota. I asked you to come with me.”

“I asked you not to call me that,” he growled.

“Fine, I asked you to come with me, Dakota.” The emphasis I placed on his name was both unnecessary and sarcastic.

His eyes flared. I wasn’t doing either of us any favors. My eyes drifted to the restaurant he’d dragged me to. It was decorated in the red and white Canadian colors. There were air hockey tables nestled in the corner and memorabilia lining the bar.

I wondered if he was trying to make a point by taking me there when he spoke again. “You knew we both couldn’t just leave, Hudson.”

“Yeah, why not?” I taunted him, my chin jutting out.

“Because they’re our fucking parents,” he bit out, his fists clenching on the table. He stuffed them back into his pockets.

“Yeah? You bother to tell them that? I fucking raised you, Kota. They didn’t give a shit about either of us. Has that changed?” I didn’t mean to challenge him, but it had come out anyway. Dakota brought out the worst part in me. Or the most competitive.

The set of his jaw told me I was right. “No, it hasn’t. Why the fuck you are you back here anyway, Mr. Big Shot Record Label?”

“You kept up with me?”

“Of course, I did. You’re my goddamn brother.”

“I got deported,” I told him as if it was nothing, just as a waitress arrived with our food.

She smiled at both of us as if she couldn’t believe her luck. Dakota’s jaw dropped at the bombshell I’d just let drop on him, and he waved her away without breaking eye contact with me.

“They deported you?” His voice was soft, incredulous. His eyes wide.

“Yup, I got in on Sunday afternoon.”

“Where the fuck you been since?”

“At a hotel. I didn’t sleep for most of the weekend, so I crashed right after I got in and only came to life this morning.”

His jaw worked as he processed the information. “Damn. What’re you going to do?”

I shrugged. “Don’t know yet. Figured the first step was to see you.”

“Why?” His eyes pierced mine.

“It’s time for us to bury the hatchet. It was as good a first step as any.” I didn’t have a better answer.

“I can’t imagine that having been your first step. What happened?” Perhaps he knew me better than I gave him credit for.

“Someone told me that as infuriating as family might be, they were still my family,” I admitted.

“She sounds like quite something.” Dakota grasped my meaning immediately. It was almost amusing how alike we still thought, all those years later.

“She was,” I confirmed.

“She died?” Dakota paled, his fork clattering to his plate.

“No,” I said quickly. “No, I meant she is something. She’s just not in my life anymore.”

“Thank god. Don’t do that to me.” He laughed humorlessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize the way it sounded until it was out. Speaking about family, how are Mom and Dad?”

Dakota frowned. “You care?”

“Of course, I do.”

“They’re in that place you’re still paying for. I’m not pocketing your money.”

“Didn’t think you were. They like it okay?”

“Well enough.” He sighed. “You knew how much care they would need, Hudson. How could you just leave me with them?”

“I could also tell you I knew what their care would cost, but I won’t. I was selfish, Dakota. I wanted more. I knew I wouldn’t get it here.”

“So, you fucked off and left me to deal with them?” He slammed a fist on the table, drawing the attention of those around us.

“For fuck’s sake, Kota. I didn’t disappear into the dark of night, never to be heard from again. I asked you to come with me. I was only ever a fucking phone call away, and I sent money for them every month.” I understood he felt like I’d saddled him with our parents, but the way I saw it, I’d done way more for them than he ever had.

“Mom still cries about you. Thinks you don’t care.”

“That’s bullshit, and you all know it. I’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on their care, and I’ve never gotten so much as a thank you. Now I get this shit from you?” I exploded, the emotions brewing in me finally finding an outlet.

“Jesus, Hudson. What the hell happened to you?” He lowered his head into his hands, ruffling his hair before looking back at me. He used to keep it short but tousled, like mine. It framed his face now, falling almost to his shoulders.

“I just had the pleasure of seeing how families are supposed to work. It opened my eyes to how fucked up ours is.”

Dakota flinched at my honesty. “That chick you were talking about earlier have anything to do with this?”

“Everything.”

“Sounds like you had something special with her.”

It took me a second to answer him. I drummed my fingertips on the table, trying to find the right words. “She was the only person I knew who didn’t hate me”

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