Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HUDSON
The click of the latch was the loudest sound Hudson had ever heard.
Shaw lurched to his feet, but Hudson was already moving, shoving his shirt back into his pants with shaking hands. His mind raced through all the different catastrophes that could result from what had just happened. Reed had seen them. Shaw on his knees, Hudson against the wall, everything.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
"Hale—" Shaw's voice was calm and controlled.
Hudson couldn't look at him. He kept fumbling with his belt, trying to make himself presentable. What the hell was he going to say when he walked out that door?
"Listen—" Shaw tried again.
Hudson moved toward the door and Shaw's hand shot out, catching his arm. Hudson jerked away like he'd been burned.
"Don't," Hudson said, voice rough. "Just—don't."
Shaw's jaw tightened. "Hale—"
"We're done." Hudson finally got his belt fastened. "This has to end."
Confusion crossed Shaw’s face, but Hudson couldn't deal with that right now.
"Wait—"
Hudson left before Shaw could finish.
Footsteps echoed off the concrete in the empty hallway as Hudson moved fast, trying to outrun the image of Reed's face. He needed to get far away from that storage room.
He needed to find Reed. Right the fuck now.
Hudson rounded the corner toward the barracks and nearly collided with Sergeant Barnes.
"Lieutenant Hale." Barnes's voice came out clipped. "Where are you supposed to be?"
Hudson's mind went blank. "Sir, I was just—"
"Night watch starts in ten minutes. You're on the roster."
Hudson's stomach dropped. Come on. "Sir, I thought—I need to—"
"Ten minutes, Lieutenant. North perimeter. Lieutenant Briggs is already out there waiting." Barnes's eyes narrowed. "Is that going to be a problem?"
Hudson’s brain screamed yes. But he couldn't say that.
"No sir. No problem."
"Good. Get your gear and report."
Barnes walked away, leaving a desperate Hudson behind. Reed had vanished into the compound, probably exaggerating what he'd seen. And Hudson was about to spend hours on patrol with the last person in the world he wanted to be stuck with.
The north perimeter fence stretched a quarter-mile between the training facility and the woods beyond. Cold, dark, and mind-numbingly boring even under normal circumstances.
These were not normal circumstances.
Briggs was leaning against the fence when Hudson arrived, flashlight in hand, the usual self-satisfied smirk on his face. Everything about him screamed asshole.
"Hale." Briggs straightened. "’Bout time."
“I’m on time.”
"Barely." Briggs fell into step beside him as they started the patrol route.
Hudson kept his eyes forward, focusing on the fence line. Four hours. He could handle four hours of Briggs's bullshit. And once this shift was over, he would find Reed, figure out what the hell he was thinking, maybe convince him that what he'd seen wasn't—
Wasn't what? Wasn't Shaw with Hudson’s dick in his mouth? That was exactly what Reed had seen. There was no explaining that away.
Neither of them said anything else for a few minutes. Hudson counted his steps, focused on his breathing. Then Briggs opened his mouth.
"Saw you and Shaw during the extraction exercise today.” Too casual.
Hudson’s stomach lurched. "It's called close-quarters training."
"Sure.” Briggs let the words sit there. “Looked like more than that to me."
"Then you were looking too hard."
Briggs stopped walking. Hudson made himself stop too, hands clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms. For a second—just a second—he genuinely wanted to punch Briggs in his smug fucking face. But that would only prove whatever point Briggs was trying to make.
"It would be a real shame," Briggs said, "if word got out. End your little hero complex real quick."
The words landed like a fist to the sternum. Hudson held Briggs's gaze for one beat, two, long enough that it didn't look like running.
"Back off, Briggs.”
Briggs smiled. “Just saying. Watch your six, Hale.”
They didn't speak again for the rest of the shift.
Four hours of frozen silence that Hudson spent working through every scenario he could think of: what Briggs actually knew versus what he was guessing, whether Reed would report them, what Shaw was doing right now, whether "we're done" was something Hudson had actually meant or just something he’d said in panic.
He didn’t land on any answers. Did get colder though.
By the time their shift ended, Hudson's entire body ached with tension. His jaw throbbed. His hands hurt from being clenched into fists for four hours straight. If Briggs had said one more thing, Hudson would have shut him up. Period.
But for now, none of that mattered. He needed to find Reed first. Fix that. Then figure out the rest.
One crisis at a time.
The next morning, Hudson sat in his bunk, dressed and ready to ambush Reed the second he opened his eyes.
When he’d gotten back last night, everyone had been sleeping. He had whispered Reed's name, but nothing but snores came from his bunk.
Reed opened his eyes and jerked when he saw Hudson staring at him. “Jesus Christ, Hale. You scared the shit out of me.”
“Can we talk? Please.”
Reed probably saw the desperation on Hudson’s face, because he got up quickly, pulled on his clothes and gestured for Hudson to follow.
Outside, the cold cut against his face. Reed led them away from the buildings, toward the far edge of the training grounds where no one else ventured. When they were far enough away that no one could overhear, Reed stopped and turned to face him.
"What the hell, man?"
Hudson had been desperate to get Reed alone, but now that they were, he had no idea what to say.
His brain supplied exactly zero useful words.
He'd spent most of the night awake, and the only thing he'd figured out was that he didn't care about the risk—he cared what Reed thought of him. "I don't—I can't—"
"How long has this been going on?"
Hudson swallowed. "Since the survival exercise."
“Since the survival exercise.” Reed nodded slowly, processing. "And Shaw. You're... what? Together?"
"What. God, no. It's not—" Hudson ran a hand through his hair. "It's not like that."
"Then what's it like?"
"I don't know." The words came out a little desperate. "I don't fucking know, okay? We're just—"
"Hooking up," Reed supplied.
"Well… Yeah."
Reed didn’t say anything. Hudson's heart was pounding, waiting for judgment, disgust, something. The pause was long enough that he started counting his breaths to keep from speaking.
"You freaked out?" Hudson asked, unable to take the silence.
"About what? That you're into guys, or that you're into Shaw?"
"Both. I guess."
Reed's mouth twitched. "I mean, Shaw? Really?" He shook his head. "Of all the guys here, you're hooking up with the most uptight, stick-up-his-ass, never-smiles prick in our entire Selection class?"
Hudson snorted, relief washing over him. "Yeah. I know."
"I get that he's good-looking. In that whole brooding, tattooed, mysterious thing he's got going on. But his personality?" Reed made a face. "Guy's about as warm as a fucking ice cube."
"He's not that bad."
"He barely talks to anyone."
"He talks to me."
"Yeah?" Reed said with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Not sure how much talking he can do with your dick in his mouth."
Hudson nearly tripped over his own feet. "Man—that's just—no."
Reed laughed, and some of the tension drained from Hudson's shoulders.
Reed's expression sobered. "So... all that bonding over how hot Jessica Alba was in Sin City. Was that you bullshitting me?"
"Hell no." Hudson ran a hand through his hair. "I meant every word. Never touched a guy in my life before Shaw. It's always been girls.”
"And now?"
"No fucking clue, man." He exhaled. “This is all very new to me.”
Reed leaned back against the fence. "Look, I don’t care who you do. What I do care about is you getting caught and thrown out of here."
"I think Briggs knows.”
Reed’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“I think so."
"Jesus, Hale. You're playing with fire." Reed's expression turned serious. "You know the regulations. What happens if the wrong person finds out."
"I know."
"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you two hooked up in a storage room during free time. That's not exactly careful."
Hudson opened his mouth, then closed it. Reed was right. They'd been reckless, stupid, so caught up in wanting each other that they'd stopped thinking about the risks.
"It won't happen again."
Reed snorted. "Sure it won't. Look, I'm not judging. But you need to be smarter about this. Because if someone else had walked in instead of me? You'd both be fucked. And not in the fun way."
Hudson’s shoulders sagged. His breath came out in a rush. "Thank you. For not—you know."
"For not reporting you?" Reed raised an eyebrow. "Wow, Hale. What kind of asshole do you think I am?"
"I didn't know what to think."
"Well, now you do." Reed pushed off the fence. "Come on. Formation's starting soon."
They walked back toward the barracks. The morning air was crisp, the compound stirring around them, and Hudson felt about thirty pounds lighter than he had an hour ago.
Formation was already being called when they got back. Hudson fell into line automatically, muscle memory taking over while his brain was still two steps behind. His eyes found Shaw without meaning to—two spots to his left, eyes forward, spine straight, face revealing absolutely nothing.
Hudson looked away. Then looked back.
Shaw's shoulders were set slightly higher than usual.
There was a tension in the set of his mouth that Hudson had learned to read over the past weeks, the one that meant he was running calculations behind his eyes, working through variables, assigning probability to outcomes.
He did it during exercises when things went sideways. He was doing it now.
Hudson had told him they were done and left him there, without letting him get a word in. He had meant it when he said it. Or thought he had. Panic had a way of sounding like conviction in the moment. But standing here now, fifteen feet away, watching Shaw perform composure for an audience—
He needed to talk to him. Let him know about Briggs and Reed. Tell him that he didn't mean it—that ‘we're done’ was panic talking, not him.
He kept his eyes forward and didn't let himself consider why that last part felt like the most urgent thing of all.