Starstruck - Book Four (8 page)

“Hi, honey!” my mom said as I walked into her room. Her hair
was slicked back into a pony tail and her skin glistened with sweat. She looked
pale, sickly almost, but her face lit up like the Fourth of July the moment she
saw me.

“Mom, are you okay?” I asked as I rushed to sit next to her
on the bed.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just the early stages of detoxing. Makes
me a little sick, but you have to get sick before you can get better. That’s
what my counselor told me.”

“Mom,” I said with sympathetic eyes. I hated seeing her so
weak and vulnerable, but I knew it was for the best.

“Sweetie, don’t worry,” she said as she patted my back. “They
have doctors and nurses here. I’m in good hands. This place is truly amazing.”

I glanced out her bedroom window, which had ocean views, and
watched as the leaves on the trees swayed and ruffled in the Pacific breezes. I
couldn’t have picked a better place for my mom to recover and get healthy.

“So you adjusting okay so far?” I asked.

“Oh, yes,” she said. “I feel like I’m on vacation. Well,
minus the constant puking and sweating. And the food here, it’s so healthy and
flavorful. I’ve never eaten this well in my life!”

I laughed. My mom was never a good cook. The best she could
do was make a box of macaroni and cheese or throw a frozen pizza in the oven.
And we were always lucky when nothing came out burnt.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked as she studied my face.
“I can tell something’s up.”

My mom, even in her sweaty, clammy, sickly condition, could
tell something was bothering me.

“It’s Hudson,” I sighed. I couldn’t beat around the bush
with her. She knew me too well.

“What about him?” she asked, her eyes squinting. She didn’t
like the sound of it, I knew that.

“He has ex-girlfriend with some problems,” I said. “He
thinks he needs to help her. She’s crazy, mom. She comes over uninvited. She
says horrible things to me. And he won’t get rid of her. He feels like she’s
his responsibility. He has to save her or something.”

My mom sighed and slipped her arm around my back.

“Men,” she said. She shook her head in sympathy. “Am I
right?”  

I wiped a tear from my eye. It felt good to talk to someone
I knew I could trust.

“You know what I think?” she asked. “I think that Hudson’s a
good egg. Look at everything he’s done for you. For me too. He is crazy about
you, that man. Don’t let him go for one second.”

“You make it sound so simple,” I moaned.

“It is simple,” she said. “No relationship will ever be
perfect, Brynn. And every relationship requires compromise. It’s not fair for
you to ask him to change the person that he is. Has he asked you to change who
you are?”

“No,” I replied. “Not at all.”

“See,” she said. “He loves you for you. You have to love him
for who he is too.”

She had a point, but it still didn’t change the fact that I
wanted Ava out of our life for good.

“What about Ava?” I said. “Does that mean I have to put up
with her being in our life and meddling in our relationship?”

My mom, in all her sober clarity, flashed me a perplexed
look. “I don’t know, sweetie. I have a feeling she won’t meddle forever. If
Hudson truly wants to be with you, she’ll have to accept that sooner or later.
Eventually she’ll have to move on when she realizes she’s not coming between
you two.”

“I hope so,” I sighed. I leaned my head on my mom’s shoulder
and breathed her in. The unfamiliar scent of lemongrass and verbena permeated from
her soft skin. It was probably the kind of soap the facility gave them to use,
but she still felt like home.

“I’m so glad you’re not hung up on that Luke asshole
anymore,” my mom said frankly.

We both laughed.

“What was so bad about Luke?” I asked.

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Everything.”

“I never knew you felt that way,” I told her. I’d always had
a hunch, but we’d never actually talked about it.

“I just always knew you could do better,” she said. “I could
never really picture you as a farmer’s wife anyway. You’re too delicate.”

“Psh,” I laughed as I swatted her arm.

It felt good to have my mom back again, and if it weren’t
for Hudson, it would’ve have been that way at all.

I left the visit with my mom floating on a breeze with my
head in the clouds. I felt clearer, and better about everything that had
happened. I had to go home to Hudson, apologize a million times, and try to
make things right. It wasn’t fair for me to expect him to change or give him
ultimatums. He’d never done anything like that to me. I had to love and accept
him for who he was and pray that Ava would eventually wise up and go away.
Everything was going to fall into place, I just knew it.

The moment I pulled into the garage, I saw it. The empty
parking stall. The black Range Rover was gone, which meant so was Hudson. I
checked my phone but there was no text message. In the pit of my stomach, I
hoped to God he wasn’t with Ava.

I walked inside only to find Flor standing in the kitchen,
scrubbing the counters.

“Hi, Flor,” I said, attempting to sound chipper. “Have you
seen Hudson?”

She turned to look at me, shrugged, and then resumed
scrubbing.

“Yes? No?” I asked.

She shook her head no.

“So you have no idea where he went?” I asked. I wasn’t
buying it. I didn’t want to believe she was covering for him, but no other
explanation was making any kind of sense in that moment.

I was done playing games with Flor. I didn’t have time. I
grabbed my bag and headed back out to my car. I had to drive by Ava’s. I had to
see if Hudson was there. I hoped and prayed he wasn’t and that I was just
overreacting, but I had to put my mind at ease.

I didn’t remember how to get to Malibu, but I did remember
her house was right off a very memorable stretch of the Pacific Coast Highway.
If my nav could get me there, I was sure I would remember which house was hers
if I saw it. It was just up the road from an adorable little gas station with a
blue steel roof that we’d stopped at once before.

I typed “Pacific Coast Highway, Malibu” into my nav and
hoped for the best. My fingers gripped the steering wheel as I drove like a
crazy person to Malibu. Everything was a whirring haze around me as my ears
pulsed and my stomach churned.

Under normal circumstances, it would’ve been such a perfect
Saturday. The sun was shining, as always, there was a light breeze, and the
birds were chirping. The traffic wasn’t ridiculous, and the ocean views spanned
on for miles. I played some of my favorite music as I attempted to enjoy the
drive there and distract my busy brain from assuming the worst, but nothing was
working. I wouldn’t calm down until I saw that Hudson wasn’t with Ava.

As I approached Malibu, I realized there were hundreds and
hundreds of houses along the Pacific Coast Highway and a fair amount of gas
stations to boot. It wasn’t like I could just slow down and leisurely take my
time trying to remember which mansion was hers. It was going to take a stroke
of luck, and I’d never been a lucky person.

I drove up and down the highway for at least a good hour, my
head turning every so often to catch a good glimpse of the houses while still
making sure I stayed in my lane and avoided mailboxes and oncoming traffic. It
was a struggle, but when I finally found that quaint little gas station I knew
I was in the right area. As soon as I saw her modern, square abode, I breathed
a sigh of relief. I’d soon had my answer.

I pulled off onto the side of the road, gravel crunching
beneath my tires, as I attempted to peek into her driveway. It was surrounded
by trees and bushes and my vision was somewhat occluded. I didn’t want to get
any closer in case someone saw me, but I inched up little by little until I saw
it. The tail end of Hudson’s black Range Rover. He was there. He was with Ava.

I felt like I’d been sucker punched. I couldn’t breathe. I
couldn’t focus. I couldn’t see through the hot, heavy tears that were forming
in my eyes well enough to get myself back onto the highway and the hell away
from Ava’s.

I waited until there was a break in traffic before getting
back on the road. I didn’t understand. Bringing it up to him would only make me
look crazy and would probably start a fight, not to mention he’d of course have
a perfect explanation for it. He always had a perfect explanation for
everything.

I had a decision to make, and I had very little time. As if
something washed over me, my tears suddenly dried up and my pathetic, woe-is-me
attitude turned into anger. I pulled off the road and turned around to head
back to Ava’s.

The iron gate to Ava’s driveway had been left open,
conveniently, and I pulled my car just up to the edge. Somewhat hidden by the
massive amount of trees and shrubbery that surrounded her place, my mind raced
as I thought about going up to the door and confronting them both.

There were two possible outcomes that played in my head.
Either it would go really bad and I would freak out and cry and scream and look
horrible, then walk away like some pathetic girl, with Hudson and Ava embracing
and laughing about how pathetic I look.

Or it would go really well. Hudson would be there telling
Ava that she really needs to butt out and leave us alone. She would understand,
having just had the closure she needed, and we would live happily ever after.
Hudson would completely understand my wanting to confront them, and he wouldn’t
be upset that I drove all the way out to Malibu to find out if he was there.

Neither of those were realistic. I squeezed my eyes tight
and tried to think of a more realistic scenario but nothing came to mind. Every
scenario made me look like the crazy one in the end, and I knew I was far from
crazy.

Before I had a chance to dream up yet another scenario, I
caught a glimpse of Hudson leaving Ava’s house and getting into his car. As I
silently cursed myself and prayed he wouldn’t see me, I peeled off and turned
left down a small paved road with a “private drive” sign. With my car far
enough away from the main road, Hudson wouldn’t see me.

While I sat parked under a canopy of lush green, I waited
for him to speed past, and he did. I gave him several more minutes to get ahead
of me and then typed his address into my navigation system, only something
strange happened. The screen turned yellow. Then green. Then stripes covered it
and it made some sort of beeping noise. I bashed the top of the dash with my
hands, hoping to get it working again, but the screen only went black.

I shut the car off and turned it back on. That worked for
most electronics, right? That didn’t work either. The navigation system was
completely down.

With hot tears in my pathetic little eyes, I tried to
remember how I got there. I’d taken so many turns it’d be damn near impossible
to remember the reverse route, but I was going to try.

I headed back towards the PCH and hoped for the best. A few
turns and a good hour later, I’d somehow ended up in some little beachy town.
Only it wasn’t quaint or sweet. It was a little run down and scary. And no one
could pay me enough to step out of my vehicle and ask someone for directions.

My phone vibrated in my lap. It was Hudson calling.

“Hello?” I answered, trying to act casual.

“Where are you?” he asked. His tone wasn’t accusatory, thank
goodness, which meant he hadn’t seen me spying on him. He seemed more worried
than anything else.

“I’m just driving around,” I said. “Thought it’d be a nice
day for a drive. Needed to get out of the house.”

“Uh, huh,” he said. “Where?”

I looked around for a sign or a business with the town’s
name on it, but I didn’t see anything.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “I don’t know the name of the town I’m in
right now.”

“Did you get lost?” he asked with a laugh. “You know you
have nav, right?”

“It’s broken,” I said flatly.

“Weird,” he said. “I’ll call the dealer first thing tomorrow.
Just use your phone.”

“My phone?” Being so worked up had completely fried my brain
cells apparently. I hadn’t even thought to use my phone to get directions.

“Yeah. Use the nav feature on your phone or use Google
Maps,” he said, drawing out his words as if he were speaking to an imbecile.
“Are you okay? You seem a little…distraught.”

“I’m fine.” He could probably hear the lie in my tone.
“Here’s a sign. Okay, I’m in Maplewood.”

“Maplewood?” he said. “That’s just outside of Malibu. What
were you doing all the way over there?”

Busted.