13. Hudson
HUDSON
Out of nowhere, I jolt awake. It’s pitch black, and my pulse is hammering. I know right away that something is off. I can feel it in my gut. It’s quiet but not the good kind. I let myself sit there for a minute, hoping that I’m just being paranoid.
Then I hear it. A sound outside. A car door, maybe.
It has to be, because it’s too soft to be a raccoon or a wild animal but too loud for it to be the wind.
Immediately, my instincts take over, and I’m reaching for the gun under my pillow, fingers wrapping tightly around the grip.
I gently slip out of bed, careful not to make a sound or wake up Ivory, where she is curled up on her side of the bed, sound asleep and dead to the world, wearing nothing but one of my old tee shirts.
She looks so peaceful, so vulnerable. And she’s mine to protect.
I grab my discarded pants from the night before and pull them on quickly with one hand.
Padding out of the bedroom, I close the door behind me as I quietly start to move through the cabin, my bare feet silent against the old wood floors, every sense on high alert.
My heart starts beating harder as I hug the wall, checking every shadow between me and the kitchen.
I keep the pistol low, the safety off, ready for anything that’s come to do harm.
I’m almost at the end of the hall when I hear another noise, stopping me from going any further. This time, it sounds like footsteps. I wait it out, keeping my back flush against the wall, weapon cocked and ready. The moment the kitchen floor creaks, I go for it, rounding the corner, gun raised.
“Stop!” I shout.
The light snaps on, blinding me for a second.
“Jesus Christ, Hudson! What the hell? Have you lost your damn mind? Put that thing away before you kill someone.”
Hannah stands by the fridge, keys dangling from her fingers, hair piled on top of her head in one of those messy buns she always wears. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and lower the gun.
“Fuck, Han! Are you trying to get shot? What are you doing here?” My jaw is tight, my voice a low growl, half adrenaline, half brotherly irritation. “You could’ve at least called.”
“Okay, Rambo. Maybe I would have if I knew you would actually answer your phone.” That one stings.
“But if you must know, I got a notification that someone was trying to use the old code to disarm the system.” She shrugs, the corner of her mouth twitching.
“I figured it was your dumb ass and approved the entry from my phone, then drove up after work to make sure everything was okay.” Her eyes flick from the gun to my bare chest. “Are you always this paranoid, or only when you’re hiding out with some girl?
” Hannah’s smirk barely has time to settle before the big-brother switch flips in my head.
“First of all,” I snap, setting the gun on the counter with more force than necessary, “you should never come up here alone. Ever.” I take a step toward her, adrenaline still buzzing under my skin.
“You don’t just drive into the middle of nowhere at night because your phone pings.
What if it hadn’t been me? What if someone else had broken in here? ”
She rolls her eyes, but I can see the flicker of concern behind it. “Hudson?—”
“No.” I cut in, pointing at her like I’m lecturing a teenager instead of a grown woman with a job and a mortgage. “I mean it, Han. Don’t you ever just show up in the dark like this.”
Her brows lift, amused. “Are you done?”
“Not even close,” I mutter, running a hand through my short hair. “You scared the hell out of me.”
I hear soft footsteps behind me.
“Hudson? What’s going on?”
When I turn, Ivory is standing there, bare legs, my shirt swallowing her small frame. She’s still half-asleep, rubbing at her eyes, but the second she realizes we’re not alone, she freezes. Color rushes into her cheeks when she spots Hannah.
For one split second, everything goes still. It’s just my sister, the woman I’m trying to protect, and me. Every unspoken truth hangs between us in the middle of the kitchen.
Hannah’s eyes widen, flicking from Ivory to me and back again. “Well… that explains the shirt,” she mutters under her breath, crossing her arms like she’s settling in for a show.
Ivory swallows hard, her fingers curling into the hem of the shirt like she wishes it would swallow her whole. “Oh, um… hi,” she says softly, voice still thick with sleep. “I didn’t know anyone else was here.”
Hannah lifts a hand in a small wave; eyebrows raised in amused judgment only a sister can pull off.
“Hi. I’m Hannah. Hudson’s sister.”
The color in Ivory’s cheeks deepen. “I’m Ivory.” She offers a tiny, awkward smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… interrupt anything.”
“You didn’t,” I say quickly, running a hand down my face. “This is just… not how I planned for anyone to meet.”
Hannah snorts. “No kidding. Most people start with a handshake, not a loaded weapon and half-naked introductions in the kitchen.”
Ivory winces.
I groan out loud while Hannah looks entirely too pleased with herself.
Hannah lets out a sudden laugh that’s loud and unexpected, completely at odds with the tension choking the room a second ago.
“Okay, wow,” she says, waving a hand between the three of us.
“This is… a lot. But nobody’s dying, nobody’s bleeding, and apparently, Hudson has a girlfriend no one knows about, so I think we can all relax. ”
Ivory’s shoulders drop a fraction, relief softening her posture. “I’m really sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to walk into… whatever this is.”
“Oh, honey,” Hannah says with a grin, “trust me, you didn’t do anything wrong. My brother just has the emotional range of a brick sometimes.”
“Hey,” I mutter, but she ignores me completely.
Hannah tosses her keys onto the counter and steps farther into the kitchen, brushing past me like she owns the place. “Alright. Since we’re all awake now, how about we sit down before Hudson gives himself an ulcer?” Making her way to the coffee pot.
We sit around the old scarred table, coffee steaming between us, Ivory tucked against my side.
“So,” Hannah says, leaning forward, “does someone want to tell me why you’re up here hiding out with a girl who looks like she hasn’t slept in a week?”
Ivory stiffens, and I reach under the table, brushing my fingers against hers in a silent reassurance.
I take a breath. “Alright. You deserve to know what’s going on.”
Hannah’s expression shifts, the humor fading into something more serious. “Good. Because I’m listening.”
And just like that, the three of us settle in, and the truth is finally ready to come out.
Hannah listens, eyes sharp, barely blinking as we lay it all out; the gala, the abduction, her father, Crest, everything we ran from.
She doesn’t flinch.
“Wow, this is definitely some heavy shit.”
She leans back in her seat, chewing her nails, thinking, and processing everything that was said. “Alright,” she says finally, “here’s what we do.”
Ivory looks up, hope and dread tangling in her eyes. “What?”
“You’re going to go back. Both of you.” Hannah’s voice is calm, steady.
“You walk in with your head high. You don’t beg.
You don’t run. You tell them you’re done being traded and dealt like a piece of property.
That you are not going to marry this Crest creep, you will pick who you marry, or you walk out for good. ”
Ivory shakes her head, voice barely a whisper. “That’s not an option. My father will never agree to anything like that. He doesn’t do ultimatums. What he says goes, point-blank. He always wins.”
Hannah leans forward, her gaze fierce. “That’s why you don’t go empty-handed. That’s why you go with leverage.”