Speechless (Pier 70 #3) (24 page)

Hudson kissed the side of Teague’s head, holding him there for another minute before pulling back enough that he could kiss Teague’s mouth. He didn’t linger, but he needed him to know that he wasn’t running from this and he wasn’t going to allow Teague to run, either.

When he pulled back, he lowered his hands and signed:
I really do care about you.

Again, Teague didn’t look convinced, so Hudson decided to go for broke.

I love you.

Teague obviously understood what he’d said because his eyes widened as they darted up to meet Hudson’s. For the longest time, Teague didn’t say a word, he simply stared. Hudson wasn’t sure what he wanted the kid to say, but when he opened his mouth, his hope returned.

“Will it help?” Teague asked, sounding so vulnerable, so lost. “The therapy? The medication?”

Hudson nodded. He truly believed that it would. After his mother had taken her own life, he had devoured information on mental illness. There were entire organizations devoted to getting the information out there, making people aware, eliminating the stigma. It didn’t only affect a few people. It affected millions.

And it had affected his mother. She’d been diagnosed with severe depression years before, and it had ended up killing her. Hudson would not sit back and allow that to happen to Teague.

“Okay,” Teague muttered softly. “I’ll do it.”

The relief was overwhelming. He signed:
Sleep for a little while. I need to talk to the others. I’ll be back. I won’t let you do this alone.

Teague nodded, then leaned back against the pillow, watching Hudson closely. He had no idea what was going through the kid’s head, but the fact that he was willing to get help was a good sign.

Once he was out in the waiting room with the others, Hudson relayed his conversation with Teague. Well, most of it, anyway. He left out the admission of love, of course.

He saw the relief on their faces when he told them that Teague was willing to get help.

“Inpatient or outpatient?” Roan asked.

Hudson signed:
He says outpatient, but we’ll let him make that decision when he gets there
.

“Agreed. They have a partial inpatient program also,” Cam said. “I’ve already contacted them, and they’ll gladly take him as a patient, either way. He’ll need to be evaluated by their doctors.”

Hudson nodded. He understood that.

Now, the hardest part was going to be the transition.

Then the waiting.

But he knew, in the end, if it meant Teague could get some help to deal with his depression, it would be worth it.

And he would be right by Teague’s side the entire time. No matter how hard things got.

Thirty-Six

Monday, August 22
nd

HUDSON SAT AT his desk, staring at his laptop before pulling up the search engine and typing in the name of the place he’d seen on the brochure.

It’d been a little more than a week since Teague had admitted himself to the inpatient program at the hospital they’d suggested. Hudson had driven Teague there himself, sat with him while he talked to the administrator, and even waited while he was evaluated by one of their physicians. When they were explaining Teague’s options, Hudson had sat beside him and nearly cried when Teague had reached over and taken his hand.

Honestly, he’d never been prouder of Teague than he was that day.

When the doctor had explained that his best chance for success was their inpatient program, followed by their extensive outpatient care, Teague had said he was interested. Hudson had been shocked but so fucking happy. Teague had said he was following Hudson’s lead. He was all in. Another shock to Hudson’s system came when Teague had requested that he get a therapist who knew sign language. When they mentioned family sessions, Teague said that he would want Hudson there and they would need to know ASL to communicate. Hudson had nearly sobbed.

Admittedly, the marina wasn’t the same without Teague there, though. The workload was manageable, but Hudson spent most of his time thinking about Teague regardless of what he was doing. After Hudson had kissed Teague one last time and they had taken Teague back, Hudson had asked to talk to the doctor alone. Since the doctor didn’t know sign language, he had asked his questions via text. Mostly, Hudson wanted to know what he could do to help Teague. Was there counseling that he could attend to help him understand more about what Teague was dealing with? Or would he simply be expected to adapt to Teague’s mood swings and try to figure out how to help him on his own? He’d been serious when he told Teague he wasn’t going to have to do this alone. Hudson was going to do whatever he possibly could.

The doctor had been happy to tell him all about how Hudson could encourage Teague to continue treatment, about giving positive reinforcement, helping to create a low-stress environment. All of the things Hudson had already read up on. When he specified about family therapy sessions, the doctor gave him some information on local organizations that would offer help to them both once Teague was back in the real world full time.

And when Hudson got home, he did as he had always done. He looked into that information, then started searching on his own. He was willing to do whatever it took to be there for Teague, to help him to cope with what they were calling major depressive disorder. As far as he was concerned, it was no different than any other medical condition. He needed to know what to do in order to help Teague adapt to it.

Right now, the doctors were in the process of getting Teague’s medication adjusted, and Hudson had been looking into that, as well. Of course there were side effects with every drug, and he felt he should know what they were. Some of that shit scared him, but he trusted the doctors would monitor him.

As it was, he was also talking to Teague every day. Because Hudson couldn’t actually
talk
on the phone, the hospital had agreed that Teague would be allowed to text message for a few minutes every day. It made Hudson feel a little better. Teague didn’t seem exactly happy, but he wasn’t as angry as Hudson had expected him to be, either. It was an adjustment; they all knew that.

“Did you find more information?” Cam asked, drawing Hudson’s attention from the computer screen.

He looked up as Cam stepped into Hudson’s office.

Hudson turned the laptop so Cam could see the place he’d been looking into.

Cam’s smile was wide. “Awesome. I think that’s a great idea, by the way. I know how Teague is with Lulu.” Cam propped himself on the edge of the desk. “I honestly had no clue that they had service animals for that type of stuff.”

Hudson had been going through all the information the hospital had given him and stumbled across a place that trained dogs to be emotional support and psychiatric service support for patients who could benefit from them. He had mentioned it to Cam one afternoon when they’d been having lunch at the marina restaurant, and Cam had convinced him to go for it. Because of the price of the animals, Cam, Dare, and Roan had all three offered to go in together with Hudson to purchase one. Hudson could’ve and would’ve easily spared the expense to help Teague, but he wanted to show Teague that his friends truly cared about him.

“So, are you going to tell Teague about it?”

No. Thought I’d surprise him.

“I think that’ll be a good surprise for him.” Cam stood. “Let me know if you need anything else from me or if we can help in any way.”

Will do.

Now, Hudson only needed to reach out to the people and get the ball rolling.

Which he was going to do right now.

Thirty-Seven

Wednesday, September 7
th

HUDSON WASN’T SURE what to expect when he arrived at the hospital to attend one of Teague’s counseling sessions with him. When Teague had asked, there had been absolutely no hesitation on Hudson’s part. He was genuinely thrilled that Teague wanted to include him. It meant so much that the man would want Hudson by his side.

Teague had officially been in the program for twenty-five days, and things seemed to be looking up. However, Hudson still didn’t know how the session would go. He wasn’t sure if there was something specific Teague wanted to hash out, or if this would be more about Hudson. Whatever it was, he was ready to embrace it.

After signing in and then being taken back to the room where the counseling session would occur, Hudson sat patiently. The room wasn’t anything special. The walls were a muted tan color, the carpet blue and a little worn in spots, there were a couple of high-back upholstered chairs that sat across from a tan-and-blue loveseat, along with a few framed prints on the wall, all in various shades of blue. Hudson was sensing a theme here. In one corner, a tall plant sat near a window, providing the only color other than tan or blue in the entire space.

Maybe it was supposed to be calming or something.

When Teague stepped into the room a short while later, Hudson’s heart stopped momentarily.

God, he looked good.

So good.

The lines around his mouth had softened, and there wasn’t as much strain around his eyes. Clearly he was feeling better. Then again, Teague had already told him he was.

“Thanks for coming,” Teague said, leaning down and kissing Hudson gently on the mouth. “I can’t promise how this will go, but I wanted you here.”

I’m glad you invited me. I missed you.

Teague’s smile was slow and genuine. “I missed you, too.”

It’d been a little more than three weeks since Teague had admitted himself into the hospital. For Hudson, that sometimes felt like three years.

They weren’t there long before the doctor stepped into the room.

She smiled kindly when she turned to greet him. “You must be Hudson. It’s very nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Ashby.”

Dr. Angela Ashby was a short, stout woman with strawberry-blond hair and gentle, light green eyes. She looked professional but somewhat casual in her black slacks and emerald-green shirt. Not at all intimidating as he had expected.

Hudson nodded in greeting.

“So, it’s my understanding that you can hear, but you can’t speak, correct?”

Hudson signed. They had promised they would assign Teague a counselor who knew ASL, so he assumed she would be able to understand.
That’s correct.

“Okay, then would you prefer that I do everything verbally and you sign your answer when necessary? Or would you prefer that I sign, as well?”

You don’t need to sign.

“Good. Just wanted to get that out of the way.” Dr. Ashby turned to look at Teague. “You look good this morning. They told me that you’ve been spending some time in the gym. How are you feeling?”

Teague was leaning back on the sofa beside Hudson, one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, his hands in his lap. “Better. They finally got my meds worked out, which made a huge difference. And yes, I’ve been utilizing the treadmill, though I can tell you, it’s really not my thing.”

That made Hudson smile. He figured Teague was finding ways to pass the time.

“So, you can feel the difference from the medication adjustment, then?”

“I can, actually. I honestly didn’t think they’d make a difference, but they do.”

“Do you think you’re ready to go home yet?”

Teague instantly shook his head. “No. Not yet.” Teague surprised Hudson when he turned and looked at him. “I miss home and I miss Hudson”—he turned back to the doctor—“but I’m not willing to go home until I feel capable of dealing with everything on my own.”

Hudson wanted to tell Teague that he would be there for him, but he knew what Teague meant. Although Teague had a solid support team, it was important that Teague could function on his own without needing them every minute of every day.

“I have to agree with you,” Dr. Ashby noted. “I like that you’re committed. I think you’re doing remarkably well. Not nearly as rebellious as the beginning.” She smiled. “So, we’ll keep moving forward until you’re ready.”

Teague took a deep breath while the doctor glanced down at a yellow legal pad she held in front of her.

“I noted that you wanted Hudson to attend your next session.” She looked up at Teague. “Now that he’s here, what would you like to talk about?”

Hudson turned to look at Teague. He could see the lines in his mouth forming. Whatever he wanted to talk about wasn’t going to be easy.

“I want to talk about my mother.” Teague looked back at Dr. Ashby. “I’m not interested in telling this story over and over, so I thought it’d be best if he was here for it.”

Something loosened in Hudson’s chest. The fact that Teague wanted to open up—something he had avoided doing for as long as Hudson had known him—was a huge step forward.

“Okay, then. Why don’t you tell us about your mother, then.”

“Mind if I move around?” Teague asked.

Dr. Ashby simply motioned for him to do what he needed to do.

Teague was up on his feet, pacing slowly across the room. Several minutes passed, and Hudson watched as Teague seemed to be gathering his thoughts. When he finally began to speak, Hudson focused solely on him.

“From what I’ve heard, I was three years old when my mother committed suicide. My birth certificate didn’t have a father’s name, and I don’t have any recollection of ever meeting him. My mother had no family; her parents died when she was younger according to their death certificates. She was an only child. I found all of that out when I was a teenager. I only learned more because I looked into the details since they hadn’t been shared with me.

“I was told that my mother worked for a grocery store, and her manager, a man she was intimately involved with, came to check on her a few days after she didn’t show up for work. According to the police report, he said they’d had a fight and broken up a couple of days before that. I assumed she had offed herself because of him.”

There was absolutely no emotion in Teague’s tone. He relayed the story as though it were something he’d heard on the news.

Teague’s eyes met Hudson’s. “He came to check on her when she didn’t show up for work on the second day. That’s when they found me and her body. Since I had no one else, I was taken into foster care.”

Hudson swallowed hard, never taking his eyes off Teague.

“From then on, I recall being bounced around from one family to the next. I can’t say I was the easiest kid to get along with. I’ve been giving the world the middle finger since I was old enough to realize my mother had left me like that. I always blamed her. I always believed she selfishly took her own life because of that guy.” Teague’s eyes met Hudson’s again. “It wasn’t until you told me that your mother suffered from depression and that was why she took her own life that I thought perhaps it hadn’t been a man she had killed herself over. I honestly never believed that shit was real, though.”

Hudson didn’t interrupt, not wanting to stop Teague from sharing. There was a hint of emotion in his voice now, and Hudson knew this wasn’t easy for him to talk about.

“Anyway…” Teague looked away, continuing to pace the floor again. “I’ve never been close to anyone in my life, and I did that on purpose. I didn’t want to be left again. I wasn’t going to invite someone into my world and let them leave me. So, I kept myself distanced on purpose. Sex was a simple act. It had no emotional value. And that’s the truth. I didn’t use sex to get close to people.”

Hudson noticed the way Teague stated that in past tense.

Teague turned to look at Hudson directly, which only made his heart pound more.

“Then you came along.”

His chest swelled, and he felt a wealth of emotion consume him as Teague once again held his gaze.

“You never thought when you made that offer that I’d go and fall in love with you, did you?”

Oxygen was now scarce, and Hudson could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Teague loved him?

“I didn’t know what I was feeling when you sent me that text. It scared the shit out of me that it affected me so much, I think. And then I panicked when you went to your brother’s,” Teague continued, looking right at him. “The loneliness consumed me because I let it. I’d been fighting what I felt for you, and I felt abandoned.”

Hudson did sign then:
I shouldn’t have left you.

Teague shook his head. “It’s not your fault. That’s definitely not what I’m saying. If it wasn’t then, it could’ve been a month from now. A year. Who knows. I’ve contemplated suicide before, Hudson. Nothing you did or didn’t do could’ve pushed me that direction. I might be confused about a lot of things, but not once have I blamed you. I did it because I felt that was my only option. Now, I know that it’s not. I know that these feelings I have, the constant sadness, the anger, the bleakness … there’s a reason for them. And I’m learning how to cope.”

I want to help you cope.

Teague smiled. “I’d definitely welcome that.”

And those were quite possibly the sweetest words Hudson had ever heard.