Free Blood And Bone by Dawn Brown Page A

ten minutes more for me to change.”
    “Fine, make it quick.”
    When Hudson made no effort to leave, Des yanked open his shirt. “Are you going to stand there and watch?”
    Hudson gave him a last measuring stare, perhaps taking in the bruised flesh, then smirked. “Don’t look so down. She has a job for you. One small job and all debts will be wiped clean.”
    “What do you mean?” Des asked, refusing to acknowledge the tiny kernel of hope expanding inside him.
    “What I said. You do this for her, and she’ll forget the money you owe.”
    What could Heddi possibly need from him so badly she would be willing to forget the money? To let him go. A kidney? No, he had two of those. One wouldn’t be worth it for her. Lung? Liver? Heart? Not likely, he doubted she had one to begin with.
    Internal organs be damned. He would give his grandmother whatever she wanted if it meant he could finally be free.
     
    Hudson ignored him for the twenty minutes it took to drive to the large Georgian-style house Des had come to despise over the years. The original family homestead dated back to 1860, but his Grey ancestors had soon replaced the original log cabin with the brick monstrosity before him.
    His great-grandfather had amassed his fortune with a sawmill, exploiting the area’s resources and using the money to buy business after business, until he’d owned nearly half the town. A tradition his grandmother had maintained and expanded upon.
    Hudson parked in front of the house, climbed out of the car and started up the stone steps to the door without a backward glance to see if Des was behind him. Why would he? Hudson knew he’d follow him like a well-trained dog. He had no other choice.
    Inside, the foyer was dark and silent despite the sunny brilliance outdoors, the oppressive atmosphere like that of a tomb. Bleak emptiness combined with the sensation that he wasn’t alone. Somewhere down the dark hallways his corpse-like grandmother waited.
    He followed Hudson to the parlor, but stopped short in the doorway.
    “Jesus,” Des muttered. Someone had been redecorating. The period antiques that had once filled the room to the point of clutter were gone, replaced with a rose leather sofa and brass tables with glass tops. The room had been painted the same putrid pink and a wallpaper border had been added beneath the wide crown molding. “Who did this?”
    “Vivian,” Hudson replied.
    “And she lives to tell? She’s not buried somewhere in the woods?”
    Hudson scowled and turned away. “I’ll see if she’s ready for you.”
    Once alone, Des moved to the window. The steady tick of an old cuckoo clock on the wall behind him—one of the few surviving antiques—filled the room and throbbed in time with his head. The ibuprofen was wearing off. He wanted to go to bed.
    Outside, sunlight spilled over the emerald lawn. His gaze followed the cobbled drive to the line of trees hiding the road from view. If he squinted, he could imagine he saw, through the tangled branches, the sun glinting off the cars as they sped past.
    As a child, he’d stood in this window for hours, hoping some passing car would turn up the drive and take him from this place. Back then, he’d sensed instinctively he didn’t belong here. And even now, as an adult, a desperate smothering settled over him whenever he entered this room.
    “She’s waiting for you in the library,” Hudson’s voice broke into his thoughts.
    Des nodded and walked out, leaving his grandmother’s henchman in the room he hated. Exhaustion seeped into his extremities, and his body ached, especially his head. He could almost feel his skull expand and contract like a cartoon character struck with an anvil.
    I’m Wile E. Coyote, super genius, time for another round with Road Runner .
    A round that would undoubtedly end with his sliding face-first down a rock wall and the old woman’s watching with smug satisfaction.
    Beep! Beep!
    Des walked down the hall. His footfalls on the