30. Hudson
HUDSON
I barely slept last night. I just watched the beautiful, scarred woman beside me and tried to make sense of it all.
How can she look at me and still see something worth loving?
I kidnapped her.
Dragged her into violence, fear, and blood.
She ended up on that table in Martin’s basement because of me. The life I live left scars on her skin.
And somehow, she still curls into me when she sleeps.
Still reaches for me like I’m safe.
It doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.
Maybe it’s just Stockholm Syndrome. Maybe once she’s away from all this chaos, she’ll finally see me for who I really am.
A killer.
A thug.
One day, when she walks away, I’ll deserve every second of it.
The thought should make it easier to leave her.
It doesn’t.
The last few weeks have dragged on and disappeared at the same time. Every hour weighs on me. Lucian’s still in Chicago. Martin’s falling apart. Hockey feels like it belongs to someone else now.
And my head never shuts the fuck up.
How do I protect Lucian?
How do I keep Eva safe?
Can I hold onto my career while doing both?
And when it finally comes down to it, what am I willing to lose?
These questions keep running through my mind until sleep seems pointless.
Somewhere along the way, I stopped just wanting her.
I started needing her.
I don’t know if it’s love. I’ve never loved anyone except Lucian.
But when Eva’s close, the days blur together.
Every time we talk, I find out something new about her. She’s clever in ways I don’t expect. She’s sharp, ambitious, and funny when she relaxes around me.
She treats every argument like a fight she’s determined to win, and when she laughs, it takes over her whole body.
Whatever this is, it’s close enough to scare the hell out of me.
* * *
Sleep is hopeless, so I slip out of bed and step onto the back deck with the burner phone in my hand.
The cold air wakes me up fast. Beyond the railing, the lake lies black and still under the moon.
Lucian answers on the first ring.
“Hud.”
He sounds out of breath.
I frown. “You okay, little brother?”
“Yeah,” he says too fast. “Today’s been fine. He’s pissed off and broody, but he hasn’t gotten violent.”
Today.
The word sits heavy in my gut.
“What’re you doing, then? Why are you out of breath?”
A brief pause.
“I was working out,” he says. “Had too much nervous energy. Thought it might help me sleep.” His voice lowers. “Haven’t been sleeping much.”
Guilt tightens in my chest, and all I can say is a quiet, “Oh.”
Silence stretches between us before Lucian speaks again.
“He says you can come back.”
I grip the phone tighter.
“Martin?”
“Yeah.” Lucian exhales slowly. Carefully. “He says you can come back to the club. Says you’re next in line. That he wants you here.”
There’s always a catch with him.
“And?”
“He wants the girl,” Lucian says quietly.
A chill goes through me.
“Dead or alive. He said if you bring Eva back, everything goes back to normal.”
Normal.
Like any part of this has ever been fucking normal.
“Bring her back,” I repeat numbly. “Would you?”
“No.” His answer comes instantly. Certain. “But you already knew that.”
I did.
Lucian’s had a soft spot for Eva since the day they met.
I close my eyes briefly. “Yeah. I figured.”
“She’s good, Hud.”
His words hit me harder than I expected.
I lean against the railing and stare out across the black water. “So what do we do?”
Lucian doesn’t hesitate long.
“KillMartin.”
I let out a rough, humorless laugh.
“I’m serious,” he says. “I can do it. Then you come back, take over the club, and this ends.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Because once you cross that line, there’s no coming back.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling exhaustion settle deep inside me.
“Killing changes you,” I say quietly. “Even when the person deserves it. Even when you hate them, it stays with you.” I swallow hard. “You’re still a good man, Lucian. Keep it that way.”
There’s a tense silence on the line.
“If anyone handlesMartin,” I finish, “it’s me.”
Lucian exhales shakily. “Then what?”
I rub a hand over my face.
“I’ve got an idea.”
“Okay…”
“The best outcome? The two clubs destroy each other.”
“How?”
“The Saints are trafficking people,” I say grimly. “Not rumors. Real trafficking. Young women. Kids. All that charity bullshit is just a front.”
Lucian goes completely silent.
“If we can get evidence to the feds, the FBI comes after the Saints. And if the Saints go down, they’ll drag the Eagles with them.”
“You think they’ll destroy each other.”
“That’s the hope.”
“And us?”
I stare down at the lake.
“That’s the complicated part. We’d need immunity. Cooperation deals. Something to keep us from going down with them.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“I don’t fucking know.”
At least I’m being honest.
“But it’s the first real plan I’ve had.”
“What can I do?”
“Let me think on it. We’re heading back in the morning. I’ll use the drive to figure out the details before we get there.”
“It is morning,” Lucian points out.
I snort. “That’s helpful.”
He laughs softly. Hearing it makes me feel a bit lighter.
“I need to get you out of there,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry I sent you back.”
“Hey.” His voice gentles. “I’m okay, Hud. Really.”
We hang up a minute later, and for the first time in days, I feel something close to steady.
Lucian is safe for now.
And finally, I have the start of a plan.
By tomorrow, I’ll be back in the city.
* * *
When I head inside, the cabin is dark and quiet.
Eva is still asleep, tangled in the blankets, one arm stretched across my side of the bed.
The mattress dips as I get back under the sheets and pull her close without thinking.
Her skin is warm against mine, and for a moment, holding her feels almost peaceful.
I shouldn’t want that.
I definitely shouldn’t want her.
But the second her naked body presses against mine, my cock hardens.
A quiet curse runs through my mind.
My hand settles over her bare breast, thumb brushing slowly across soft skin while I bury my face in her hair.
She smells like my soap now.
Like she’s meant to be here.
Sleep is impossible after that.
My mind keeps spinning through plans, escape routes, and worst-case scenarios. Every option ends in blood or sacrifice. No matter how hard I try to focus, my thoughts always circle back to Eva.
The way she looks at me and still sees something worth saving.
The way she told me she loved me, like holding it in was tearing her apart.
Desire hits me fast. My cock presses against the curve of her ass, and I almost hate myself for wanting her again so soon.
Fucking greedy.
I try to behave, but her breathing changes, soft and uneven, and I know she’s awake.
A second later, she presses back against me deliberately.
I exhale sharply.
“Knock it off,” I mutter against her shoulder. “Go back to sleep.”
She does the exact opposite.
Rolling over slowly, she peers up at me through sleepy eyes, her hair a tangled mess around her face.
Then her hand slides between us.
“Eva,” I warn.
She ignores me completely.
Her fingers wrap around me, stroking slowly while she watches my face, studying every reaction she pulls from me.
“Touch me,” she whispers.
The need in her voice breaks the last of my restraint.
I slide my hand between her thighs, and a rough groan drags out of me when I find her already wet, heat slick against my fingers.
A rough groan slips out of me.
“So fucking needy,” I mutter, brushing slow circles that make her breath catch.
She arches into my touch immediately.
“You make me this way.”
I take my time with her at first, listening to every soft sound she makes, feeling the way her hips start moving against my hand without thought.
“I need you,” she whispers. “Please.”
The soft plea nearly undoes me.
I ease her onto her back carefully and settle between her thighs, keeping most of my weight off her healing body.
For a second, I just look at her.
At the freckles scattered across her nose.
The long lashes framing those impossible blue eyes.
The wild red hair spread across the pillow like fire.
She’s mine.
That possessive thought takes my breath away.
And when I finally glide inside her, it nearly fucking ruins me.
She feels so good, wrapped around me, that it takes all my willpower not to lose control.
I force myself to slow down.
I want to take my time with this. Every breath, every soft sound she makes, every small movement beneath me. The rest of the world can wait until tomorrow.
I lean down and kiss her, slow and unhurried.
It feels different this time.
Softer.
It feels almost too gentle for someone like me.
“Spread those legs for me, baby,” I say roughly. “Let me in deeper.”
She obeys instantly.
Good girl.
I move carefully because the last thing I want is to hurt her.
So I keep the pace slow and deep, steady strokes that make her moan. Her head falls back on the pillow, eyes closing.
“Look at me,” I murmur, brushing my thumb across her jaw.
She opens them instantly.
And fuck.
That dazed, hungry look in her eyes almost undoes me.
“You’re stunning,” I tell her roughly.
Her hands roam over my shoulders, my back, into my hair, holding me close like she can’t stand even an inch of distance. Every touch drags me closer to the edge.
“Kiss me,” she whispers.
I kiss her hard enough to steal the breath from both of us.
Her mouth opens beneath mine, warm and hungry. Her tongue brushes against mine, teasing and playful, before she catches my bottom lip between her teeth.
“Careful,” I warn, barely holding myself together.
“I don’t want careful.”
I laugh softly against her mouth.
“You’re a fucking menace.”
“Yes,” she whispers. “Now fuck me like one.”
Whatever restraint I have left breaks.
I kiss her harder and deeper, and the quiet cabin fills with our uneven breaths and soft sounds as she clings to me. Her nails drag down my back, sharp enough to sting, and it nearly drives me crazy.
“Fuck, just like that,” I groan. “Take it.”
“You feel incredible,” she breathes.
“Fuck, Eva. Fuck.”
I bury my face in her neck, holding her close as I come undone. She kisses me through it, arms tight around me, like she never wants to let go.
Afterward, I drop beside her, both of us breathing hard in the tangled sheets.
“I was trying not to hurt you,” I mutter.
“Valiantly,” she deadpans.
“Oh, get out of here,” I say, rolling out of bed before she sees my grin. I head to the bathroom, turn on the light, and start the shower.
When I glance back, Eva is squinting dramatically from the bed, shielding her eyes.
“Hudson, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Currently considering it.”
That makes me laugh.
“Come on, vampire. We’ve got a long drive ahead. Might as well start pretending we’re functional adults.”
She groans but eventually drags herself out of bed and joins me beneath the steaming water.
We wash up slowly, still half asleep. Somewhere between kissing her against the tile and rinsing shampoo from her hair, I lose control all over again.
She ends up breathless against my chest, while I thrust her with my fingers until she unravels in my arms.
“Your self-restraint is truly inspiring,” she mutters afterward.
“I know.”
She snorts softly against my shoulder.
But once we’re dressed, reality comes back.
I make coffee while Eva cuts up fruit and makes oatmeal. I force myself to eat a little, but anxiety makes it hard to taste much.
“What’s the plan?” Eva asks eventually.
“I’ve got pieces of one,” I admit. “Not the whole thing yet.”
Concern flickers across her face, but she nods for me to continue.
“I need to go back to work. Not just because of my contract.” I rub my jaw. “My captain and his wife are… connected. I think they might be able to help us.”
Eva’s brows lift slightly. “Connected how?”
“To the mob,” I say flatly. “Nik’s wife is a Campisi.”
Realization flashes across her face.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” I lean back against the counter. “The Campisis have connections everywhere. Lawyers, politicians, people who know which federal contacts can be trusted.”
I take a sip of coffee even though it does nothing to settle me.
“I don’t need them directly involved,” I continue. “I just need information. Access. Somebody willing to listen before this turns into a bloodbath.”
Eva watches me carefully for a long moment.
“You’re really going through with it,” she says softly. “Turning the Saints in.”
I meet her gaze without hesitation.
“I am.”
Part of me expects resistance. Anger. Some instinctive loyalty to her family.
Instead, she just nods once.
Slow.
Steady.
“Okay,” she says quietly. “And Martin?”
My jaw tightens instantly.
“I’ll deal with Martin myself.”