THIRTY-FIVE
T his isn’t what I had in mind when I told Niko to track Hudson down.
My luck has always been fucking terrible, and I’m only now starting to realize how bad it is. Cecilia is with me because she’s on the list of people who haven’t left my side. But tonight, I’m glad she’s with me. Without her, I would’ve chickened out.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
I shake my head. “Let’s grab a drink first. I’ll need it.”
She chuckles, grabs my hand, and leads me toward the bar.
It’s one of the clubs that requires exclusivity. Cecilia has it. Hudson has it. I have it. I’ve never used it because I find clubs to be rather boring. From ages seventeen to twenty, I went crazy, and now I’m no longer interested in spending nights in a dark, crowded space with sweaty people.
But it’s good to let loose from time to time. Tonight, I’m a woman on a mission.
Cecilia orders us each four shots of tequila. Each shot slides down my throat, leaving the burning aftertaste on my tongue. The anxiety starts to fade away and since it’s been a while since I drank something that strong, I feel myself getting tipsy.
“Do you see him?” she screams over the loud music.
My eyes skim the crowd, and a pang of disappointment fills my chest. I shake my head and wonder if Niko’s location is correct but when I look around, I see that it’s all the people that I know, one way or the other.
He should be here.
“Isn’t this a sign from God that I shouldn’t be doing this?”
Cecilia snorts. “You don’t believe in God.”
“Well, I might just start.”
She rolls her eyes. “Stop. He’ll be here. Be patient.”
“I’ve been a patient for quite some time,” I joke, but I shut up the moment she throws a threatening glare my way.
“Stop fucking joking around. Especially about that. I almost fucking lost you, bitch. Never do it again or I promise you, I will be the one to put you six feet under.”
“I don’t plan on doing anything that stupid anytime soon, Cec. Don’t worry.”
Her eyes move from my face upward, and a small smirk tugs on the corner of her lips. She doesn’t speak, only motions with her eyes behind me.
Immediately, I turn around. There are a couple of VIP booths located on the top floor, but they’re more like little platforms with glass around them. Cecilia says that with the press of a button, the glass turns black, and it becomes soundproof. It’s great because I’m going to need privacy.
My eyes find Hudson immediately, and the wind gets knocked out of my chest.
He’s wearing a black dress shirt with the first two buttons undone. He’s wearing a chain around his neck, and his chest is in my view. He looks so fucking good. His hair has gotten longer since I last saw him, reaching just below his neck. It’s styled back with a little gel holding it together and two front pieces falling over his eyes.
He’s sitting in a leather chair with a drink on the small, glass table next to him. He’s tracing circles on the round glass with his index finger while staring into the distance. His eyes are dull—dead—just like I’ve been feeling.
So why does it physically hurt me to see him like this? Why does it look like he’s barely gotten any sleep? His muscles might have grown a little, but his cheeks are sunken. It makes his jaw sharper, and, as attractive as it is, I can’t help but wonder if it’s my fault.
What a fucking stupid thought.
It is my fault.
A frown forms on my face.
Well, this is unexpected.
A short, blonde woman appears. It’s not Lyla, and it’s definitely not someone related to Hudson in any way, shape, or form. Her short dress reaches just above her knees, and her slim figure is all I can stare at.
It’s not a secret that I look more masculine than an ordinary woman. I was raised and trained as a soldier. Of course I have muscles and thicker thighs. Is this Hudson’s usual type of woman? Short, slim, blonde?
The thought infuriates me more than I thought it would.
But the more I look at the sight in front of me, the less it makes sense.
Hudson doesn’t even blink in her direction. His eyes are still skimming through the crowd while he occasionally takes a sip from his glass. It’s whiskey, and a good one at that. The girl is talking, approaching him and closing the distance.
Jealousy bursts within like a wildfire, and there’s no way to put it out.
I grab the last shot, gulp it down, and slam the glass back on the bar. I notice Cecilia’s wide grin as I toss my belongings on her lap and make my way toward the stairs that lead toward the VIP section.
There are two guards, but I simply walk past them. They yell behind me, but neither of them even attempts to stop me. They either know who I am, or they notice the murderous aura from my body.
Before I reach the end of the stairs, I glance upward, and my blood starts boiling in my veins. The glass is black, and I don’t see what’s happening anymore. My feet carry me as fast as possible, but these fucking heels are too uncomfortable to run in.
I don’t knock on the door; I just stroll inside as if I own the place.
My breath hitches as I step inside. The girl is nowhere to be found, and Hudson spins in his chair, staring right at me. This proximity makes my hormones go wild because I didn’t even realize just how much I missed this man. My man.
“Who was that?”
What a great opening, Noelle.
Hudson blinks.
It’s been a while since we last saw each other, but even longer since I saw the death glare from him. He blinks, sips on the whiskey, and doesn’t say a word for a while. He’s studying me, and it makes me feel exposed.
I’m wearing a dress shirt with pants and have a scarf wrapped around my neck. Given the state of my body, I’m not likely going to wear dresses anytime soon—if ever. The scars from the taser are there alongside the cuts he made. My face healed entirely, but the rest of my body isn’t looking great at the moment.
“She’s just a random woman.”
Oh, God.
His cold, stoic voice sends chills down my body. A knot forms in my throat, and I suppress the urge to jump on him. His shoulders are rigid, and his eyes narrow at me.
“And what did she want?”
“My number.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“Why?”
“I’m contemplating whether or not she’s too young to die, that’s all.”
A loud laugh reverberates through the tiny room. Hudson throws his head back as he laughs, but it’s not humorous. It’s dark, bone-chilling, and threatening. His eyes settle back on me, and he raises a brow.
“Oh, Noelle.” His husky voice makes me freeze. “How fucking audacious of you. Tell me, why are you here?”
I swallow. “I’m here to apologize.”
Hudson drinks the rest of his whiskey in one go, slamming the glass down. He stands up and walks over to me. He’s like a predator, and the intense gaze makes me take a step back until I reach the glass.
“Apologize? And you think a mere apology is enough to fix what you’ve done?”
My eyes close.
No.
It’s not enough.
No matter what I do or say, it still won’t be enough to erase or change the fact that I fucked up.
“No,” I whisper. “I know that it can’t be fixed.”
“Good,” he grits out. “Now get the hell out of my sight. I’m done with you.”
That’s when my eyes snap open. I fist my hands next to my body and raise my head. He’s towering over me, but I don’t allow him to intimidate me into leaving. That’s not happening tonight.
“You’ll have to throw me out yourself. I’m not leaving.”
He tilts his head to the side and cages me between the glass and his body. He’s so dangerously close to me, and I can feel his hot breath tickling my face. Oh, God. He’s beyond angry. He’s fucking fuming, and his cheeks turn red in annoyance.
“How persistent,” he spits out. “I’m not going to tell you again. Leave, Noelle.”
I take a deep breath. “I will not go away. I know that I fucked up, I know that I crossed the line—”
His deep laughter, filled with venom, cuts me off.
“Fucked up? Fucked up?” he repeats, disbelief on his tongue. “Noelle, I had to physically hold your head attached to your shoulders so you wouldn't die. You were bleeding out in my fucking arms for twenty minutes before the paramedics got there. I even thought you were dead because you were so fucking pale, and you were barely breathing. You slit your own throat in front of me. You fucking stared at me while the blade cut your skin. You fucking wanted to die in front of me. So, no, fucked up doesn’t cut it.”
My lips part, but he isn’t done yet.
“Do you know what was going through my head at the time? I had a gun fucking prepared to shoot myself if you died because life without you was a life I didn’t want. I blamed myself for not getting to you faster, for not noticing it was Dylan faster, for not fucking protecting you on time. I fucking slept by your side for weeks, only to be pushed away like a dirty after thought.”
“Hudson—”
A laugh like I’ve never heard fills my ears, and tears start to slip out. It’s so full of pain, venom, and pure regret. His voice cracks, and his eyes well with tears. It terrifies me that I broke this man into pieces.
“No, Noelle.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not done yet. That night, you were given a fifteen-percent chance of survival. When they brought you out of the surgery, I was sitting next to your bed with the gun pressed against my temple. I was waiting for you to die so I could die too.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. My hand reaches to touch his face, and his fist slams behind me, cracking the first layer of glass. He’s staring at me with so much pain, ache, and fragility that I can’t help but fucking hate myself. “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I’m sorry.”
He laughs bitterly. “That’s all you have, Noelle?”
Hudson doesn’t push my hand away, but he doesn’t lean into my touch, either. It hurts more than rejection, and I feel my throat close up. I swallow and I can hear the rapid sound of my heartbeat thumping in my chest.
“I’m sorry.”
“‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it.”
Without thinking, I lower myself to my knees, my head hanging low. He takes a step back, and I squeeze my hands. I’m not above begging if it’s for him. I’m not above letting go of my pride if it’s for him. I’m not above doing anything if it means he’ll forgive me.
“What are you doing? Get up.”
“No,” I say firmly. “I’m not moving an inch until you forgive me.”
“Then you’ll be kneeling for a long time.”
I shake my head. “I don’t care if it’s an hour or a decade. I will not move until you forgive me.”
“I have no intention of forgiving you, Noelle.”
“You will.” I try to sound confident, but I don’t believe my words. “I will make sure you forgive me. I can’t live without you, Hudson.”
“Oh, so now you can’t live without me?”
“I’m sorry it took me this long.” I pause and raise my head. He’s staring down at me with his jaw clenched and the everlasting anger in his deep-green eyes. “But you’re the only one who matters to me. I don’t care about anything else. I’ll do anything you want if it means you’ll forgive me.”
“Even if I ask you to step down as your father’s heir?”
“Yes.”
His eyes widen slightly, but he returns the stoic expression quickly. “Even if I ask you to be locked in a house forever?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I ask you to stop killing entirely?”
“Yes.”
He pauses and takes a deep breath. The couple of seconds that the silence lasts are the most excruciating I’ve ever felt. I can sense each movement, each deep breath he takes, and each exhale.
“Why?”
I blink. “What?”
“Why would you go that far, Noelle? After all, your life is so much easier without me in it. And since the current situation between our families is good, you shouldn’t worry about me killing you. So, why?”
“Because you’re the person who taught me how to feel, Hudson. I was just an empty shell before you. And somewhere along the road, I stopped hating you. You’re the only one who ever made me feel needed and desired. You were the only one who wasn’t afraid of the darkness inside of me. And you—just… I love you. I love you so much that even the thought of living the rest of my life without you is killing me. I love you so much more than words can ever describe. I love you, Hudson.”
“And what if I tell you it’s not good enough?”
I shake my head.
“I don’t care if it’s tomorrow, or fifty-five years down the road. I’ll earn your forgiveness. There’s not a single person out there that I want by my side except for you. I know that I fucked up, and I’m sorry.” I start fiddling with my fingers on my lap, my eyes on the floor and anxiety slowly returning as the effects of the tequila start to wear off. “I love you so fucking much.”
He puts a finger under my chin as he kneels next to me.
“Look at me while you say it, Noelle. Say it again.”
I smile through the tears because I see the anger slowly lifting.
“I love you, Hudson. I love you so much.”
“I’m not forgiving you.” My heart sinks to my stomach. “Not yet. But as of this moment, your life is mine, Noelle. You’ve been mine for a long time. But starting now, I own your life. Are you scared of that?”
“No,” I whisper. “My life is yours. It’s all yours.”
“Good. You can’t take it back. You can’t leave. I will never let you leave.”
I nod.
Then, his lips fall to mine, and it makes me start crying all over again.