Chapter 28
CHAPTER
TWENTY-EIGHT
Hudson watched in horror as the sedan’s passenger window lowered and a weapon appeared.
There was no time to think. Only to act.
He yanked his wheel hard left, slamming his Lexus into the sedan’s rear quarter panel.
Metal screamed. The sedan fishtailed, the gun discharging wildly into the air instead of at Natalie’s car.
“Turn!” he shouted into the phone. “Turn now!”
Natalie’s BMW swerved right, tires squealing as she took the turn too fast. The car tilted, two wheels briefly leaving the pavement.
Hudson’s heart stopped.
Then the BMW came down hard, bouncing but staying upright. Natalie accelerated away down the residential street.
The sedan tried to follow, but Hudson was already moving. He cut them off, his Lexus blocking the turn, buying Natalie precious seconds.
The driver made a choice—backup and flee, or ram through Hudson and pursue.
For three heartbeats, they sat there. Hudson could see the driver’s face through the windshield—cold, calculating, professional.
Then the driver threw the car into Reverse, tires smoking as he backed up thirty feet and spun around.
They were running.
Hudson started to pursue, then stopped.
Natalie.
He couldn’t chase them and protect her at the same time.
He took the turn, accelerating hard down the residential street where Natalie had disappeared.
His phone was still connected, her ragged breathing sounding over the line.
“Natalie? Talk to me. Where are you?”
No response. Just breathing and the sound of her engine.
Then he saw it—fresh tire marks leading off the road. Her BMW’s distinctive tracks, gouged into the grass shoulder.
The car itself sat twenty feet down an embankment, nose-first in a drainage ditch. Steam rose from the crumpled hood.
Hudson was out of his car before he fully registered parking it.
Natalie’s head rang like a bell, her vision swimming.
The airbag had deployed—she remembered that much. The explosive sound, the powder in the air, the sudden stop that had thrown her forward against the seatbelt.
Everything hurt. Her chest, her neck, her hands where she’d gripped the wheel.
But she was alive.
She fumbled for the seatbelt release, her fingers clumsy and shaking. The car sat at an angle, driver’s side lower than passenger side. Water seeped through the door seals—the ditch was deeper than it looked.
Her door wouldn’t open. Jammed or blocked or both.
Panic fluttered in her chest.
Then Hudson’s face appeared at the window, his expression tight with fear.
“Natalie!” His voice was muffled through the glass. “Can you hear me?”
She nodded, not trusting her voice.
“Can you move? Are you hurt?”
She tried to assess. Everything ached, but nothing felt broken. “I think—I think I’m okay.”
“Your door’s jammed. I need you to climb to the passenger side. Can you do that?”
Natalie looked at the steep angle of the car, at the water rising around her feet. Her hands were still shaking.
“Natalie.” Hudson’s voice cut through her shock. “Look at me.”
She did. His eyes were intense, focused entirely on her.
“You can do this. Unbuckle, climb over the center console, and unlock the passenger door. I’ll be right there.”
She nodded again, more firmly this time.
Her fingers found the seatbelt release. Click. The belt retracted, and gravity pulled her sideways against the driver’s door.
Natalie grabbed the steering wheel, pulled herself up and over the center console. Her muscles screamed in protest, but she kept moving.
The passenger door. The lock.
She flipped it up just as Hudson wrenched the door open from outside.
His hands were on her immediately—careful, checking for injuries, helping her climb out of the wrecked BMW.
“I’ve got you,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you.”
Natalie’s legs gave out the moment her feet touched solid ground.
Hudson caught her, his arms wrapping around her waist, holding her upright against his chest.
For a moment, she let herself lean into him. Let herself pretend that the safety she felt in his arms was real and not just another lie.
Then she pulled back.
“They had a gun,” she whispered. “They were going to shoot me.”
Hudson’s jaw tightened. “I know. But they didn’t. You’re safe now.”
“Safe?” A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her throat. “I just drove my car into a ditch running from people who want to kill me. How is any of this safe?”
She was right, of course. But Hudson just held her gaze steadily.
“Because I won’t let them hurt you,” he said. “No matter what else you believe about me, believe that.”
Sirens wailed in the distance—someone must have called 911 about the crash.
Hudson looked toward the sound, then back at Natalie. “We need to get you checked out. Then we need to figure out who those people were and why they’re escalating.”
Natalie nodded numbly, still trying to process what had just happened.
Someone had tried to kill her.
And Hudson had saved her life.
Again.
She wanted to hate this man, but how could she?
Still, she didn’t have to let herself get too close.