Mani found him when he traveled back to the state to meet up with a so-called friend. But it was a setup. Mani’s men took him and were holding him.
After releasing him from my hug, I step back, holding onto his arms as I take a good look at him. He’s pale and sporting a fresh black eye, and he looks like he needs a good meal and some sleep. But there’s no major damage. At least not on the outside.
I release him to the paramedics, and Hudson insists they check me over. For once, I don’t fight him, and I let the woman take my blood pressure and check for signs of shock.
After they’re done, a detective asks me a ton of questions. Hudson holds my hand the entire time, and I speak honestly, telling them how I tried to use my phone to record evidence.
“It’s lucky I was able to track you,” Hudson says. “I saw you stop at the side of the highway. But before we got there, you were on the move again.”
My heart sinks, and I must go pale because the detective cocks his head. “Is there something you’re not telling us, Miss Sanders?”
I swallow hard, but if I’m going to get out of this mess, then I need to tell the truth no matter what the consequences.
I explain about the drugs I found in the trunk of the car and where I left them. Once I’m done, the detective makes a call and sends someone off to take a look. Turning toward me, he says, “I’ll need you to come to the station for further questions.”
I glance at Hudson. This is where I have to deal with the consequences of my actions, and I may get arrested when they find the drugs. I don’t want to drag him into this, but he squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring look. “We’ll follow you there.”
I glance at Tyler, and he’s grinning at the young, pretty paramedic. Seeing him smile confirms that whatever happens next, it was all worth it.
Soon, we have to separate, and while Tyler gets taken to the hospital for observation overnight, Hudson drives me to the police station.
At the station, I answer more questions, and an officer takes my statement. Hudson stays by my side, and his solid presence calms me.
They release me without charges, but I’m warned not to leave the state because there may be further questions. I’ll also have a hearing to decide the fallout of my breaking parole.
Marcus and his team left hours ago, leaving one of the cars for Hudson, and we drive back in comfortable silence, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me and making my body heavy.
Hudson drives me to his place, and as we pull up outside the brick house with a neat garden and close-cropped lawn, it feels like coming home.
Hudson leads me inside, and the first thing I notice is how tidy it is. The furniture is sparse and practical, with white, un-decorated walls and a large, firm-looking charcoal gray couch.
“This place needs some color,” I comment.
He kisses the top of my head. “You can paint one of the walls when you move in.”
My heart stutters, and I look up at him. “You want me to move in?”
Hudson pulls me toward him and slides an arm around my waist. “I never want you to leave my side again. Ever.”
His lips meet mine, and I sigh into his mouth. Every part of me relaxes into him. I’ve found my rock, and I let him lift me up and carry me through the house. I think he’s going to take me to his bedroom, but instead he carries me past the large bed with its stone-gray comforter and sets me down in the adjoining bathroom.
“You need to eat and rest, but first I’m running you a bath.”
Right now, I’m happy to let Hudson order me around.
The water steams up the mirror, and while I wait for the tub to fill, I poke around in the bathroom cabinet. You could line up a dozen bathrooms, and I’d pick this one as Hudson’s. The cabinet has a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor, and shaving cream all tucked away in a neat row. It’s so clean it practically sparkles.
I smile to myself, thinking about how he’ll react when I move in with my lotions and hair ties and how he’ll cope with my hair getting everywhere, which it does.
I sink into the bath, planning how I’ll add some color to this place. Bright bedding and artwork on the walls and wildflowers picked from the mountain. Hudson needs some color in his life, and I’m happy to be it.
When I come out of the bath, I see a white robe has been left on the bed, and I wrap myself in it. The smell of roasting chicken leads me into the kitchen.
Hudson glances up and smiles when he sees me. “Better?”
I nod, but as he hands me a glass of wine, I voice the fear that’s been sitting with me all day. “I might go to jail for this.”
“You might. Or more likely, they’ll extend your community service.”
