"I know."
"I'm still not ready to forgive you completely. I'm still not sure I trust you not to leave again."
"I know that too." His hand stroked up and down my bare back. "I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm not asking for trust. Those are things I have to earn. I'm just asking for a chance."
I lifted my head to look at him. His expression was open, vulnerable in a way I'd rarely seen from him.
"You're asking for a lot," I said.
"I'm asking for everything." He cupped my face, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone. "Because that's what you are to me, Betty. Everything."
My heart clenched. Damn him for knowing exactly what to say. Damn him for making me feel things I'd sworn I'd never feel again.
"Okay," I said quietly.
"Okay?"
"Okay, you can have your chance." I pressed a kiss to his chest. "But if you leave me again, if you disappear and break my heart for a second time, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."
He laughed. "Deal," he said.
We lay there in comfortable silence as the morning light grew stronger, tangled together on the couch, my skin against his skin, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear.
I knew this didn't fix everything. I knew we still had problems to work through, trust to rebuild, pain to address. The trial was still looming. Lang and Briggs were still out there. My life was still in danger.
But for this moment, in this quiet morning, with Hudson's arms around me and the taste of him still on my lips, I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be okay.
"Betty?" Hudson's voice was soft.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For giving me another chance. I know I don't deserve it. I know I have a lot to make up for." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "But I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying."
My phone buzzed on the coffee table, shattering the moment. I reached for it and saw Agent Torres's name on the screen.
"I have to take this," I said, sitting up reluctantly.
Hudson nodded, his expression shifting from tender to alert in an instant. The bodyguard was back.
I answered the phone.
"Ms. Ramirez," Torres said. "We have a development. I need you both to come to the field office as soon as possible."
My stomach dropped. "What kind of development?"
"The kind we need to discuss in person. How soon can you be here?"
I looked at Hudson, who was already getting up, reaching for his shirt.
"An hour," I said. "We'll be there in an hour."
"Good. And Ms. Ramirez?" Torres paused. "Stay alert. Things are escalating."
The line went dead.
