Chapter 7 Betty
The next week passed in a blur of fear and happiness so intertwined I couldn't separate them.
During the day, I went through the motions of running the bar, always looking over my shoulder, always waiting for the next threat. Lang and Briggs hadn't come back since Hudson had run them off, but I could feel them out there. Watching. Waiting. Planning.
The FBI agent assigned to my case, a no-nonsense woman named Torres, called every other day with updates. The trial was on track. The evidence was solid. All I had to do was testify, and Lang and Briggs would spend the rest of their lives behind bars.
All I had to do was survive long enough to make it to the witness stand.
But at night, when the bar was closed and Hudson and I were alone in my apartment, I could almost forget about the danger. Almost pretend we were just two people in love, building something real, making up for lost time.
He cooked for me every morning. He held me every night. Wrapped around me like a shield, his arms tight, his breath warm against my hair. Sometimes we made love until we were both breathless and boneless. Sometimes we just talked, sharing pieces of the ten years we'd missed.
I learned that he'd built Black Hawk Protection from nothing. Started with just him and Reeves, two guys fresh out of special ops with no money and a lot of skills nobody wanted to hire. Now they had offices in six countries and a client list that included Fortune 500 CEOs and foreign dignitaries.
I learned that he'd never been in a serious relationship since me. A few casual things, he admitted, but nothing that lasted more than a few weeks. Nothing that mattered.
"There was only ever you," he said one night, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my bare shoulder. "Everyone else felt like a placeholder. Like I was just killing time until I could find my way back to you."
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to believe every word.
And most of the time, I did.
But there was still a part of me that held back. A small, scared piece of my heart that remembered what it felt like to be abandoned. To wake up one morning and find the person you loved most in the world just... gone.
I wasn't sure that part of me would ever fully heal.
One week before the trial, everything changed.
It started like any other day. Hudson made breakfast while I showered. We drove to the bar together, his hand on my thigh the whole way, a comfortable silence between us. I did inventory while he checked in with his team, and by four o'clock, we were ready to open.
The evening crowd was light. Midweek lull, nothing unusual. Marco and Jesse handled most of the customers while I caught up on paperwork in the back office.
Hudson was at his usual spot at the end of the bar, nursing a coffee and watching the door like a hawk.
Around eight, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Check the alley.
My blood went cold.
I stared at the message, my heart hammering against my ribs. It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Only an idiot would go check the alley alone after receiving an anonymous text.
But something in me needed to know.
I found Hudson at the bar and showed him the message. His expression darkened immediately.
"You're not going out there," he said flatly.
"I know. But someone should check."
"I'll go." He was already standing, his hand reaching for the gun I knew was holstered under his jacket. "Stay inside. Lock the back door behind me."
"Hudson, wait." I grabbed his arm. "What if it's an ambush? What if they're trying to separate us?"
"Then I'll handle it." He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. "Santos is out front. Marco's got eyes on the door. You'll be fine for two minutes."
I wanted to argue. Every instinct I had was screaming at me not to let him go alone.
But I also knew that Hudson was trained for this. He'd spent a decade in special operations, running missions in places that would give most people nightmares. If anyone could handle an ambush, it was him.
"Be careful," I said quietly.
"Always." He gave me a look that was equal parts reassurance and warning. "Lock the door behind me."
I followed him to the back, watching as he slipped out into the alley. The moment the door closed behind him, I threw the deadbolt and pressed my back against the wall, my heart pounding.
Two minutes, I told myself. He said two minutes.
I counted the seconds in my head, each one stretching into an eternity.
One minute passed. Then two.
At three minutes, I started to panic.
At four minutes, I heard the gunshot.
The sound split the night like a crack of thunder, and my whole world stopped.
"Hudson!" I screamed, fumbling with the deadbolt, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip the lock.
The door flew open before I could get it unlocked.
Hudson stood there, his gun still raised, his chest heaving. Behind him, in the dim light of the alley, I could see a figure crumpled on the ground.
"Are you okay?" I grabbed at him, my hands running over his chest, his arms, searching for wounds. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." He holstered his gun and pulled me against him, holding me tight. "I'm fine, baby. It's okay."
"What happened? I heard a gunshot. I thought..." I couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't put into words the terror that had gripped me when I'd heard that shot.
"Someone was waiting for me. One guy, hired muscle by the look of him." Hudson's arms tightened around me. "He drew on me. I was faster."
I looked past him at the figure on the ground. He wasn't moving.
"Is he..."
"Shoulder wound. He'll live." Hudson pulled back to look at me, his eyes hard. "But this changes things. They're escalating. They sent someone to kill me so they could get to you."
"Oh God." My legs went weak, and I would have fallen if Hudson hadn't been holding me. "They're not going to stop, are they? They're going to keep coming until I'm dead."
"Hey." He cupped my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him.
"Listen to me. They are not going to touch you.
I don't care how many people they send. I don't care what they try.
You are going to make it to that trial, and you are going to testify, and those bastards are going to spend the rest of their lives rotting in prison. Do you understand me?"
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to trust that he could keep me safe, that his skills and his team and his resources were enough.
But the fear was a living thing inside me now, coiling around my chest, making it hard to breathe.
"Okay," I whispered. "Okay."
Sirens wailed in the distance, growing closer. Someone had heard the shot and called the cops.
"We need to get you inside," Hudson said, already guiding me back through the door. "Santos is calling the FBI. They need to know about this."
The next few hours were a blur of flashing lights and uniformed officers and questions I'd answered a hundred times before. Agent Torres arrived around midnight, her expression grim as she took in the scene.
"The guy Hudson shot is talking," she said, pulling me aside. "He's a local thug, hired through a shell company that traces back to the same network Lang and Briggs have been using. We're getting closer, Betty. Every move they make is building the case against them."
"Great," I said flatly. "So they just have to kill me before the trial, and none of it matters."
Torres's expression softened. "I know this is hard. But you're almost there. One more week, and this is over."
One more week.
It felt like a lifetime.
By the time the police cleared out and the bar was empty, it was after two in the morning. Marco and Jesse had gone home, and Hudson had sent Santos back to his post outside.
It was just the two of us, standing in the middle of my bar, the silence pressing down on us like a weight.
"You killed someone tonight," I said quietly.
"I wounded him. He's going to survive."
"But you would have. If you'd had to."
Hudson was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Yes. If that's what it took to protect you, I would have killed him without a second thought."
I should have been horrified. Should have been scared of the casual way he said it, the complete lack of hesitation.
Instead, I just felt... grateful.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," I admitted. "These past two weeks, having you here, knowing you've got my back... I don't think I could have survived this alone."
"You could have." He crossed to me, taking my hands in his. "You're the strongest person I know, Betty. You would have found a way. But I'm glad you don't have to."
"So am I." I looked up at him, at this man who'd broken my heart and then come back to save my life. "Hudson, I need to tell you something."
"You can tell me anything."
I took a deep breath, gathering my courage.
"I love you."
The words hung in the air between us, fragile and precious.
"I've been fighting it," I continued. "Telling myself I was stupid to let you back in, that I was just setting myself up to get hurt again.
But tonight, when I heard that gunshot, when I thought something had happened to you.
.." My voice cracked. "I realized I'd rather have you and risk getting hurt than not have you at all. "
Hudson pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe.
"I love you too," he said, his voice rough. "I've loved you for twelve years. Through everything. Through all the time apart, all the missions, all the nights I spent wishing I could take back what I did. You're it for me, Betty. You always have been."
I buried my face in his chest, breathing him in, letting his warmth seep into my bones.
"What happens after the trial?" I asked. "When this is all over. What happens to us?"
"Whatever you want." He pulled back to look at me, his eyes soft.
"If you want me to stay, I'll stay. I'll move here, run my business from your spare room if I have to.
If you want to come with me, we can go anywhere in the world.
If you need more time, I'll wait. Whatever you need, Betty. I'm yours."
"I want you to stay," I said without hesitation. "I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to build a life with you, a real life, not this crisis-mode survival thing we've been doing. I want the future we should have had ten years ago."
"Then that's what we'll have." He kissed me, soft and sweet. "As soon as this is over, we start fresh. You and me, building something real."
I kissed him back, pouring everything I felt into it. The love, the fear, the hope. All of it.
One more week.
We just had to survive one more week.
That night, Hudson made love to me like it was the last time.
Slow and intense, his eyes locked on mine. He whispered words of love against my lips, my neck, my breasts. Told me I was beautiful. Told me I was brave. Told me he was never going to leave me again.
And when I came apart in his arms, crying out his name, I believed him.
For the first time since he'd come back into my life, I believed him completely.
I should have known it couldn't last.