Release Me Read Online Free

stripped out of his jacket, draped it over the back of the stool, and then tossed his tie on top. As he did, he remembered his phone. He flipped the lapel back and reached into his pocket for his cell, but when he pressed the button to fire up the screen, he found a whole lot of nothing. No messages. No missed calls. What the hell did he expect? It had been two weeks and Allie hadn’t returned a single one of his calls.
    He stared at the screen, lit up with a photograph of Allie taken during their trip to Lake Geneva. She was straddling his Harley, beckoning him with a smile, her cheeks still a little flushed from the wine. But instead of that perfect smile all he could picture was how fragile she’d looked sitting in front of two matching caskets, clinging to the redhead seated next to her. The anguish etched in the delicate features of her tear-streaked face had shredded him. And when her shoulders shook with the sobs she was trying to hold in, he knew he should have felt grateful for her friend’s support. Instead he’d envied her purpose. Hudson wanted it to be his arm she gripped. He wanted to be the one she counted on to hold her up as the world as she knew it bottomed out.
    He punched the button on the phone, cutting off the self-torture.
    Fuck, he needed a drink.
    Shoving his phone in the front pocket of his pants, Hudson strode to the Subzero and yanked the door open, only to find it empty of the beer he was craving. Cursing, he snapped it closed and stalked upstairs toward the game room. He didn’t bother turning on the lights. The glow from the glass door fridge behind the bar provided the only light he needed to hit his target. He grabbed a Heineken, cracked it open, and flicked the cap off with his thumb. As he watched it slam dunk into the trash, he suddenly realized where Nick had picked up the nifty little trick.
    Hudson flinched at the sound of his phone echoing through the cavernous room. He set the bottle on the bar and dug his cell back out of his pocket.
    “Chase,” he answered, not bothering to screen the call.
    A gravelly voice came from the other end. “Hey.”
    “Nick, hey, how—”
    Nick cut off the hi-how-are-ya’s. “Has it been on the news?”
    “Couple lines in the
Trib
, but nothing more.” Hudson wasn’t surprised. Dead drug dealers didn’t make headlines. Nick blew out a relieved breath, but Hudson could still sense the undercurrent of stress. “You’re not to worry about it, clear? I’ve handled it.”
    “What do you mean? The cops gotta be looking for me. APB or some shit, right?”
    Hudson ran a hand through his hair. “No one is looking for you.”
    “How can you be sure? What if someone saw the—”
    “Not like this, Nick. Not on the phone.”
    “Why? Do you think someone’s listening?”
    “No. But I—”
    “Holy shit, is your line tapped? Are you being watched?” Hudson could hear the wild panic gaining momentum.
    “Jesus Christ, Nick, no. But my presence has already been requested at the police station in regards to the Sinclair murders. I’m not taking any chances.”
    Nick snorted. “Yeah, like you’d kill Allie’s parents.”
    “They have to rule me out as a suspect and I intend to cooperate.” Anything to keep the police from having a reason to dig too deeply into his life. Looking into the shit buried in his past was like pulling a thread. Yank on one and the whole thing would unravel.
    “What if they’re just playin’ you? What if they know something?”
    “Like I said, don’t worry about it.” Nick was a first-rate addict and the last thing Hudson wanted was for him to relapse and die by his own hand. Not on his watch. If it took stint after stint at high-priced rehab facilities, so be it. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to hit a brick wall when it came to saving his little brother. “Focus on getting yourself clean, understood?”
    “I’m clean as a fucking whistle, Hudson. So stop the song and dance bullshit. Level with