Crush (Crave #2) - Tracy Wolff Page 0,184

to give my tired brain a break. But when I finally open them, it’s to find Hudson looking straight at me.

“So you remember?” he asks in a tone so tentative that I can’t believe it even came from him.

“No.” I glance back at the painting, my stomach clenching a little at the idea that I might have finally remembered something…even if I can’t identify it yet. Even if it’s just my subconscious poking at me, trying to tell me something. Trying to get me to do what I so desperately want to do—remember. “Do you recognize it?”

“It’s impossible.” Hudson shakes his head as if to clear it. “You couldn’t possibly have painted this if you don’t remember. Not this accurately. Not this perfectly.”

“I felt it,” I tell him, struggling to find a description that will make sense to both of us. “I don’t know how else to describe it. From the moment I’ve been back, this place has been building in my head until I couldn’t not paint it. From the moment I picked up my paintbrush, it was the only thing that felt right.”

I don’t say anything else—there’s nothing else for me to say—and for long seconds, neither does Hudson. Eventually, though, he inclines his head and says, “It’s perfect.”

“You know where it is.” It’s not a question, even though my voice is quieter than his.

“Yes,” he answers.

My breath catches in my chest, my throat. Finally, I’ll know something. Finally, I’ll have one memory to hold on to. It’s not much, but it’s more than I had when I woke up this morning. More than I had when I brushed my teeth or took a shower or picked up my favorite Pop-Tarts in the cafeteria.

But the seconds tick by, and still Hudson doesn’t say anything until, finally, I feel like I can’t take it anymore. Until I feel like even my skin doesn’t fit.

“Are you going to tell me?” I demand, after time has passed and done nothing to alleviate the nerves.

Another silence, this one even longer than the one that came before it. “It’s my lair,” he answers, and there’s a lifetime in those three words.

89

Bend Till You Break

“Don’t be nervous,” Jaxon tells me several hours later as I fiddle with my uniform tie for what feels like the hundredth time. But I can’t help it. My stomach’s been churning since Macy told me about the assembly this morning. That feeling only doubled when Hudson told me I’d painted his lair from memory, until right here, right now, I feel like exploding.

“Be very nervous,” Hudson tells me from his spot lounging against the door. “In fact, maybe you should just call in sick.”

Jaxon’s phone rings—his mom is calling—and he walks into his bedroom to answer it.

“I think you’re the one who’s nervous,” I answer as soon as Jaxon is out of earshot.

“Umm, yeah. Because, you know, at least two people in that room want to kill you. Probably more.” Hudson pauses and thinks. “Yeah, definitely more.”

“Well then, it’s sad for them, isn’t it, that I have no intention of dying today. Or anytime soon.”

“Yeah, we’ll see,” he mutters.

“You need to be a little more positive, you know that?” I’m so annoyed that I say this louder than I intend as Jaxon strides back over to me.

“What did I do?” Jaxon asks, looking very confused.

“That wasn’t to you,” I explain. “That was to your brother.”

“Oh.” Jaxon rears back, like he forgot Hudson exists. Or like he can’t believe I might be talking to both of them at the same time. Like I haven’t done that every day since I made it back to my human form or anything.

“What’s he saying?”

“That it’s a bad idea to go to this assembly. But he said it about the last one, too, so I don’t have a lot of faith in his opinion. Besides, how else are we going to get the bloodstone?”

“There are eight of you,” Hudson tells me testily. “You could let any one of the other seven pick it up.”

“And let Cyrus know I’m afraid of him?” I shake my head at Hudson. “I don’t think so.”

“You should be afraid of him. And even if you’re not, you should act like you are. Anything else will just piss him off.”

“Apparently everything is going to piss him off.” I put both my hands on my hips. “So why does it matter what I do?”

“You’re right, it probably doesn’t. Which is another reason why you shouldn’t go!” Hudson practically growls with

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