Accidental Abduction (Masked Men of Sage Springs #1)

Chapter Two

Hudson

Lifting a crate of potatoes, I carried it into the cold storage room off the kitchen and stacked it on a shelf by the door.

I stretched, rolling my shoulders before I leaned back, groaning as my back popped. Things had settled down before the last call, but I was too old to sleep on couches anymore. After spending an entire shift on my feet and then tossing and turning on the couch in my office, I was fucking tired. Plus, I desperately needed a shower because I still smelled like a bar.

“We’re old as fuck,” my best friend, Reid, groaned as he joined me and plunked down a crate of tomatoes. “Why can’t you have one of the bartenders do this shit?”

“Because they willingly took on extra shifts this week so I could take a few days off.”

“Aren’t you in charge? You make the schedule, so if you want to take days off, just make them work.”

“We both know it’s not that easy,” I laughed, stepping around him to go grab another crate from the stack by the back door. “You just gonna push one of your regulars onto another artist?”

“My situation is different. People are particular about who they want permanently inking something onto their bodies. Most people don’t give a shit who’s pouring their drinks.” He paused, smirking at me. “Unless it’s Charley. She might poison my drink.”

“It’s the principle of the thing. If I want them to keep working for me, I need to walk the walk. Bailing on shifts doesn’t exactly foster a good working relationship or respect. ”

“Being a workaholic doesn’t exactly foster a good romantic relationship. How’s Viv dealing with you working sixty hours a week?”

Not well. I had a feeling when I headed to her apartment later, she was gonna pick a fight. Typically, fighting with her resulted in some rough, acrobatic sex, but it also didn’t solve the problems between us.

But I didn’t want to talk to him about this. “Like you’re one to talk. How’s fucking random clients working out for you?”

He glared, and I knew I’d hit the mark. “They come onto me. And it’s not like I fuck them while I’m actively working on a piece. But if a hot chick gives me her number, I’m not gonna turn down a sure thing. Or a blow job in my office. Apparently, tattoos are aphrodisiacs.”

“You ever considered trying to date one of them?” He’d never quite grown out of the fuckboy phase we’d both gone through in our mid 20s. It’d been fun, and no strings had been appealing at the time, but I preferred being with one person. When she wasn’t pissed at me.

It allowed you time to learn what she liked, and it didn’t have to be some constant struggle to perform. Stranger sex was fun for a while, but it felt kinda empty the next day. And some of those girls were wilder than I could keep up with.

Kind of like…

Nope. Not going there. I shouldn’t be thinking about my sister’s best friend being wild.

She never hooked up with guys from the bar, but I’d heard sounds coming from her bedroom upstairs when she didn’t know I was in my office. Charley was loud, and it seemed she was into rough sex—especially since I could hear the banging of her headboard into the wall above me.

Part of me dreaded having to fix dents in her room when she finally moved out, because I didn’t want to think about how she put them there.

It wasn’t like I didn’t know she was a sexual person, but thinking about it made me feel like a pervert. And knowing she took my sister out to pick up guys was something I would continue to pretend didn’t happen. Hazel was a sweet girl, and she hated it when I warned guys away from her, but I didn’t want to see her get taken advantage of.

“Dude, are you even listening to me?”

“What?” I shook my head, focusing on Reid and trying not to let his smirk get to me.

“I asked what your plans were for the party. What costume are you wearing?”

Viv had talked about putting together matching costumes, but I hadn’t really thought about it. I was sure she’d pick something out and make me wear it. “Not sure yet. Viv said something a few weeks ago, but she hasn’t shown me yet.”

“You’re such a fucking pussy sometimes. Why do you let her have her way all the time?”

I knew exactly why. “It’s easier to do what she wants. You know how she gets.”

“Do you even like her? It seems like you just stay with her cause you don’t want to look for something else.”

“Of course I like her. We’ve been together for four years.”

“Then why don’t you let her move in or move into her place?”

“Because I like my house and I don’t want to move into one of those stupid condos she lives in.” Her place looked like it belonged on an Instagram feed. I guess technically it was on hers, but it all seemed too fake. “They all look the same, and I don’t fit in with all the polished professionals in that building. They’d probably think I was a vagrant or a burglar. You’ve seen Viv’s friends.”

“I know it’s none of my business, but it sounds like you’re making excuses. Are you staying with her because you want to be with her or because it’s easier? If you ask me, I’d rather be alone than getting bossed around.”

“You’re right. It’s not your business. And that’s why you’re still fucking single. You don’t understand how relationships work.”

He crossed his arms, and I knew he was only saying something because he was my friend, but he’d never liked Viv .

“Just because I haven’t met someone that I want to spend more than a night with doesn’t mean I don’t understand relationships. It just means I don’t waste my time on things that are bound to fail once the sex high wears off.”

“And that’s why you’ll never be in a serious relationship. You never give anyone a chance.”

“How did this suddenly become about me? I like how my life is. You’re the one who is grumpy as fuck. And staying with a girl you’ve outgrown because it’s easier than finding someone else.”

“Can we just finish this so I can go home and shower before I need to go over to her place? I know you’re just concerned, but you don’t need to worry about me.”

“Just let me know when you’re ready for something different and I might let you tag along to be my wingman again. You used to be pretty good at it before Viv tried to domesticate you.”

“You pick up most of your fuck friends in my bar or your shop. Not interested in bringing unnecessary drama to either of our livelihoods.”

He laughed, slapping me on the back. “Fine, be a prude. Go have boring missionary sex with your vapid girlfriend before she dresses you up like a dipshit. I’m gonna make fun of your ass if she makes you wear a stupid costume.”

“What are you wearing?”

He smirked, his eyebrows dancing before he leaned in. “Gonna wear my bike helmet and leather pants. Haven’t decided if I’m going full shirtless or just a tight t-shirt.”

“That’s a costume?”

“Dude, I think you underestimate the power of a little mystery. Inked biker guy dressed up like some girl’s wet dream. There’s no way I’m going home alone. These college girls are into bad boys and masked men.”

Sounded like he was setting himself up for trouble, but if it was all consensual, I wouldn’t judge what people were into. If he wanted to have some anonymous sex wearing a motorcycle helmet and the girl was into it, that was his business. As long as he didn’t do it inside my bar.

“No fucking in the back room again.”

“That was one time.”

“My fucking sister walked in on you balls deep in some random girl and you didn’t stop. If you’re gonna fuck randoms in public, take ’em next door to your shop.”

“I didn’t know Haz was gonna walk in. And it’s not my fault she screamed and tripped over a crate of Jack in the hallway.”

A few years back, I’d had to rush my sister to the emergency room when she’d walked in on him. She ended up with stitches in her leg from where she fell, and she still couldn’t look Reid in the eye.

It didn’t help matters when he’d kept right on fucking the girl until he came because he didn’t hear Hazel’s scream over the screeching of the girl he had pinned to the wall.

I’d come running to find my sister bleeding with a piece of glass from a broken whiskey bottle hanging out of her calf in the hallway and my best friend with his pants around his knees and his deflating dick hanging out.

He was lucky it hadn’t been another employee, because at least I knew my sister wouldn’t sue me. It wasn’t the first time I’d caught people fucking in the bar—it kinda came with the territory—but I couldn’t exactly kick my best friend out and ban him from the premises.

“You’ve just turned into this passionless version of yourself and wish you could get away with having sex in your bar,” Reid teased, and I knew part of his statement was true. I had changed, but I was also determined to keep my private life away from my career.

Viv had tried to come onto me a few times when she’d stayed past closing, but promising to go down on her after I’d had a shower had distracted her enough that she finally let it go. I spent enough time in this place. I didn’t want to have to sanitize the counter or the storeroom when we could just go find a bed. And fucking in a bar bathroom after drunk college kids had done God knew what all night in it had never sounded like fun.

Before I could keep arguing with him about my perfectly normal sex life, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Viv: Are you still coming over today? We need to talk about the party.

“That her?”

“Yeah. I need to get over there. She wants to talk about the party.”

“Good luck, man. Stay strong and don’t cave in to some terrible couple costume. If you show up as some douchewad Disney prince, I’m taking pictures, so when you wonder where your balls went, I can show you the exact moment she snipped them off to keep in her tiny little designer purse.”

He took off while I finished up, once again wondering if part of what he’d said was valid. Viv had been more of a party girl when we’d met, and we’d gotten into plenty of trouble together the first year we were hanging out, but somewhere along the way, our paths had diverged.

My degree in restaurant management had made it a seamless transition when my dad decided spending eight to ten hours a day standing behind a bar wasn’t what he wanted anymore. I couldn’t blame him. He’d given a lot of himself to the bar and when my mom had cut back on her hours at the hospital, he’d wanted to rekindle some parts of their relationship they’d lost along the way.

They were disgustingly in love again after settling into partial retirement. They finally had a good work-life balance and could focus on their relationship. I knew his hours had caused problems between them when we were younger. Haz didn’t remember the hushed conversations behind closed doors, or the months he’d slept in the apartment above the bar when I was in high school.

Part of me recognized the signs of a crumbling relationship when Viv harped on me for working too much, but I never gave her shit when she’d travel for work once a month .

Another text came through as I was locking up, and I knew I’d stalled long enough.

Viv: If you’re not coming over here, at least have the decency to let me know.

Hudson: Showering and then I’ll be over. Give me 45 minutes.

My bike was tucked under an overhang next to the back door in a small fenced in area secured with a padlock because some drunken idiot had tried to ride off with it a few years ago.

The weather would start changing soon, but as long as I could, I’d take my bike to work. There was something invigorating about taking sharp turns at speed and feeling my stomach bottom out as I wove through the winding mountain roads. Viv hated riding with me, so if I knew we had plans, I’d take my restored Chevelle to work, but even lately she’d be badgering me to sell it to buy a more sensible car.

She drove a Tesla, and while it was nice, there was no way I’d be caught dead in a car that pretentious. Classic muscle cars had always been my passion, and with all the hours I’d put into restoring mine, I wasn’t willing to give it up.

Twenty minutes later, I stowed my bike in the garage and traded it out for my car after a quick shower. I took the short drive into town to Viv’s condo where she met me at the door. Her hair was thrown up into a carefully sculpted messy bun and she had on a pair of designer sweats. This was about as casual as she’d get, and for once I wished she’d just relax and be herself. Twenty-four-year-old Viv hadn’t been afraid to wander around her place with her hair down in chaotic blonde waves and one of my old shirts. I hadn’t seen that Viv in a long time.

When I looked at her now, I often wondered if I’d hallucinated the girl I’d met.

“Finally,” she sighed, pulling the door open wider and gesturing me into her pristine looking place. “We need to talk, Hudson.”