15. Hudson
CHAPTER 15
Hudson
The door clicked shut behind us, and I kept one hand lightly on Sofia’s arm, guiding her toward the desk chair. She looked pale, her breathing shallow, and I could feel her trembling even through her jacket.
“Hey,” I said softly, crouching in front of her as she sat down. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Just take a deep breath for me.”
She looked at me like she wanted to believe it but couldn’t quite get there. Her breaths started coming faster and faster, and before I knew it, she was showing signs of an oncoming panic attack.
“Hey, do me a favor, okay?”
She managed a nod—or at least, I hoped that was what it was.
“Name five things you can see.”
Her brows pulled together.
“Just do it. Please.”
She pursed her lips as her eyes flitted around my room. “Bed. Boots. Christmas painting. Frilly pillows.”
I smirked, still not used to my bedroom containing so many frilly pillows. “One more.”
Her eyes landed on mine again. “You.”
“Good girl. Four things you can touch.”
“Chair. Jacket. Floor. My hair on my cheek,” she rattled off, and then she looked down at my hand in hers—something I hadn’t even realized I’d done until she brought it to my attention. Her gaze came back to mine, slowly this time. “You?”
I chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Uh, yeah. Good. Three things you can hear?”
She took a shaky breath, swallowing hard. Then, a small smile crept up, and she returned the squeeze on my hand. “You, you, and you. Can we be done? I think it passed.”
Narrowing my eyes at her, I grinned. “Done that before?”
“It’s a classic. Pretty much Therapy 101 if you start going because your boyfriend went to prison and you don’t know how to deal. What’s your excuse?”
I swallowed hard. “My… Uh, hmm. That friend I told you about? The one who…”
She nodded, and I was grateful I didn’t need to finish that sentence. It wasn’t fun to say out loud.
“His parents were psychologists or something. Always made sure he had tools for when he needed them, and I needed them once on our first deployment together. Guess it stuck.”
Her lips pulled into a line, and she nodded. “Thanks for that.”
“Of course.” I took a deep breath. “You ready to tell me what happened?”
She squared her shoulders, and even though I still hadn’t heard what brought her to my room on the verge of a panic attack, I was unbelievably proud of her.
“Someone trashed my room,” she whispered, her voice tight and barely audible. “And they left… this.” Her hand only shook a little as she held up a crumpled piece of paper.
I took it gently, trying to get ahold of my anger as I unfolded it. I was still wrapping my head around someone being in her room, and who knew what I would find on this paper.
The handwriting was clean, familiar— And… something snapped into place that I would definitely need to examine later to confirm, but I pushed it out of my mind to focus on the here and now.
I skimmed the letter, and it wasn’t long before I pieced together what it was: one of the letters she’d written to Dane while he was in prison.
I folded it along the worn creases and met her eyes. “Do you need anything right now? Water? Tea?”
She shook her head quickly. “I don’t… I just—” Her hands rose to her temples, pressing lightly as though her head ached. “I don’t understand. Why would he?—”
“I don’t know,” I whispered, gently removing her hands from the sides of her face. I needed to see her. Needed to make sure she was okay, or at least on the way to being okay. “We’ll figure this out. Where were you tonight?”
“Girls’ night at Robin’s.”
I frowned, checking my watch. “And you just got back?”
She nodded.
“What time did you head over there?”
“Around six,” she replied.
“Okay. I got home from Ida’s around seven, and since I didn’t see or hear anything in the last two hours, I think that must mean it happened between six and seven.”
She snorted. “Trust me. If you’d been in here when it happened, you would’ve heard it. Unless you have some seriously good noise-cancelling headphones.”
I admired her for attempting humor, but my chest ached at the dullness of her smile, and I could see the fear still lingering in her eyes. I shifted slightly, keeping my movements slow and deliberate as I let go of her hand. “I want to check your room. If he left something else behind, it could give us some answers.”
Her hand shot out, gripping my arm like a lifeline. “Don’t leave me.”
“I wasn’t going to,” I promised. “You’re coming with me. I’m not letting you out of my sight until we figure this out.”
She hesitated, her eyes searching mine. Whatever she saw there must have been enough, because she nodded, her grip loosening but not letting go entirely.
I helped her to her feet, keeping her hand in mine as I led her across the hall. Her steps were hesitant, and her free hand clutched her coat tightly around her like it was the only thing holding her together.
I stopped in front of the half-open door, blocking her view as I turned to face to her. “Stay behind me, okay?”
She swallowed hard but did as I asked, standing just off to the side as I pushed the door open got my first good look at the room.
The scene was worse than I’d imagined. The dumped suitcases, the ripped pages from her books, the drawers hanging open—he’d gone through everything and had made sure to leave a devastating mess in his wake.
Every part of me screamed to go find Dane, but I forced myself to keep it together, focusing on the immediate priority: her.
“Don’t touch anything,” I said over my shoulder, keeping my tone even.
She hovered in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself. “Why would he do this?”
I still didn’t have an answer for her—not one she didn’t already know deep down. Instead, I moved slowly around the room, taking in the details. The way the papers were scattered, the way her stuff was thrown around—it was deliberate. This wasn’t some random criminal looking for something or trying to rob her. This was a man who wanted her to feel vulnerable. Exposed.
And the letter… That was the message. As if there’d been any doubt in my mind that this was Dane, there was none of that now.
I turned back to her, the weight of her fear pressing down on me. “I’m gonna call Tommy.”
At her nod, I pulled my phone from my pocket, my thumb hovering over Tommy’s contact before I pressed it. As the line rang, I glanced back at Sofia. Her eyes darted over the room like she couldn’t stop cataloging the destruction.
“Hey,” Tommy answered, his tone concerned considering the late hour.
“We’ve got a situation at the inn,” I said, cutting to the chase.
He sucked in a breath. “What kind of situation?”
“Sofia’s room was broken into and trashed. Looks like someone wanted to send a message.”
“What kind of message?” There was a sharpness in his voice now, the protective brother coming out in full force. I could hear rustling, like he was getting up from the couch or maybe throwing on his coat.
I glanced at the crumpled letter still in my hand. “Pretty sure it was Dane. Sofia found one of the letters she wrote to him while he was in prison.”
There was a pause, long enough for me to hear the tension building on his end. “I’m on my way,” Tommy said finally. “I’ll call in the guys who are on duty tonight. Don’t touch anything.”
“We haven’t.” I shifted my gaze back to Sofia, who hadn’t moved an inch. “See you soon.”
The call ended, and I slid my phone back into my pocket. “Tommy’s coming,” I said gently. “So are some other officers to take a report. You’re not alone in this.”
She nodded stiffly.
I stepped back to her side, catching the way her fingers trembled where they clutched the hem of her coat. “Come on,” I said quietly, guiding her into the hall. “Let’s get you out of here.”
She let me lead her without a word, her steps heavy and robotic as we crossed the hall back to my room. The instant my door closed behind us, I saw her shoulders relax the tiniest bit. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
She parked herself near the door, still hugging herself, her gaze fixed on the floor like she was lost somewhere far away.
I dipped slightly to catch her eye. “Hey. Why don’t you grab a quick shower? It might help you feel a little more human after… all that. I can loan you some sweats if you want.”
She looked at me, her brow furrowing slightly. “Tommy’s on his way, right? And other officers?”
“Yeah,” I said slowly, trying to piece together where she was going with that.
“I don’t think I want to be in pajamas when they get here,” she said quietly, her voice steady but low. “It feels too…”
As she let the sentence hang, I nodded and ran my hand through my hair. I should’ve thought of that. “You’re right,” I said. “That’s on me. Good call.”
She nodded but didn’t move, and I could see her fingers twitching against the fabric of her sleeves. My instincts told me to reach for her again, to offer some kind of physical comfort, but I held back. I wasn’t sure what she needed, but until I was sure it was that, I wouldn’t overstep.
Instead, I gestured toward the bed. “Sit. Take a minute to breathe.”
To my relief, she didn’t argue. She sank down onto the edge of the mattress, her hands clasped tightly to the edge on either side of her thighs. I sat in the desk chair, giving her space but staying close enough that she could see I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Sofia,” I said after a beat of silence. “I know this isn’t easy. But if you’re up for it, can you tell me more about… the letter? What it means to you? Why he might’ve left that behind?”
Her fingers twisted tighter, and for a moment, I thought she might shut me down completely. But then she let out a long, shaky breath and looked at me. Her eyes were glassy, but she was holding herself together.
I stayed quiet, letting her find her words.
Her gaze dropped to her hands, and she let out a bitter laugh. “You know, I really thought those letters would help him have hope while he was locked up. And his replies to me made me think it was working. One time, his cellmate even sent me a letter, simply to tell me how good Dane was doing and that I’d be proud of him when he got released.”
I wrinkled my nose, already knowing that wouldn’t be the case.
“But then he got out,” she went on, “and he was still… him. Still reckless, still a mess. Still wanting me to sit in the mess with him even though I couldn’t breathe. And now, seeing that letter thrown back in my face in the middle of a literal mess… It just feels like all that effort was for nothing. How could I let it get this far?”
Her voice broke on the last word, and I was out of the chair before I realized I’d moved. I crouched in front of her, resting a hand on the edge of the bed, close enough to hers that she’d know I was there for her without invading her space.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I said quietly. “You gave him a chance—a thousand chances, it sounds like. That says everything about the kind of person you are, not him.”
She shook her head. “I gave too much, and I didn’t know when to stop. And now, no matter how far I go, he’s always there, reminding me of how stupid I was.”
“You weren’t stupid,” I said firmly, leaning in just enough to catch her eye. “You cared. And you cared enough to hope—and to try to gift some of that hope to him. That’s not stupid, Sofia.”
Her breath hitched and I thought she might cry, but then she blinked rapidly, keeping the tears at bay as she held my gaze. “I just… I don’t want him to ruin what I’m trying to build for myself. Not anymore.”
“He won’t,” I promised. “I won’t let him.”
The words hung between us, heavier than I’d intended, but I didn’t back down. I couldn’t.
Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get the words out. I knew the feeling.
The silence stretched, charged with something I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t simply attraction. That was there, obviously, and it had been since day one. But beyond the attraction there was also that connection we’d made light of the other night. Though, right now? There was nothing light about it.
There was something about the way she looked at me—raw, vulnerable, and yet so strong—that did something to my chest. I reached up to rub the spot over my heart, wondering how it was possible that it could ache and soften at the same time.
I dropped my hand but stayed where I was, my other hand still resting on the edge of the bed. Waiting. Watching. Letting her decide what came next.
Sofia’s breathing slowed, her shoulders gradually relaxing as she sat there, the tension in her body unwinding bit by bit. Her gaze remained locked on mine, though, wide and unguarded, as if she was searching for something in my expression.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I don’t know,” I replied just as quietly. “Maybe it’s that era thing you mentioned.”
Light returned to her eyes as a small smile tugged at her lips. “We hardly know each other.”
“I know enough. Enough to see how strong you are. Enough to know you deserve better than what he’s put you through.”
She glanced down at her lap. “I don’t feel strong. I feel… stuck. And I don’t just mean because of Dane. It’s kind of a pattern. Like no matter what I do, I’ll always be the girl who couldn’t see the red flags until it was too late.”
“That’s not who you are.” My voice came out firmer than I intended, but I didn’t back down. “You’re the woman who fought to make a better life for herself, and a woman who deserves a man who would fight for you to feel safe in it.”