But there was still a part of me that held back. A small, scared piece of my heart that remembered what it felt like to be abandoned. To wake up one morning and find the person you loved most in the world just... gone.
I wasn't sure that part of me would ever fully heal.
One week before the trial, everything changed.
It started like any other day. Hudson made breakfast while I showered. We drove to the bar together, his hand on my thighthe whole way, a comfortable silence between us. I did inventory while he checked in with his team, and by four o'clock, we were ready to open.
The evening crowd was light. Midweek lull, nothing unusual. Marco and Jesse handled most of the customers while I caught up on paperwork in the back office.
Hudson was at his usual spot at the end of the bar, nursing a coffee and watching the door like a hawk.
Around eight, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Check the alley.
My blood went cold.
I stared at the message, my heart hammering against my ribs. It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Only an idiot would go check the alley alone after receiving an anonymous text.
But something in me needed to know.
I found Hudson at the bar and showed him the message. His expression darkened immediately.
"You're not going out there," he said flatly.
"I know. But someone should check."
"I'll go." He was already standing, his hand reaching for the gun I knew was holstered under his jacket. "Stay inside. Lock the back door behind me."
"Hudson, wait." I grabbed his arm. "What if it's an ambush? What if they're trying to separate us?"
"Then I'll handle it." He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. "Santos is out front. Marco's got eyes on the door. You'll be fine for two minutes."
I wanted to argue. Every instinct I had was screaming at me not to let him go alone.
But I also knew that Hudson was trained for this. He'd spent a decade in special operations, running missions in places thatwould give most people nightmares. If anyone could handle an ambush, it was him.
"Be careful," I said quietly.
"Always." He gave me a look that was equal parts reassurance and warning. "Lock the door behind me."
I followed him to the back, watching as he slipped out into the alley. The moment the door closed behind him, I threw the deadbolt and pressed my back against the wall, my heart pounding.
Two minutes, I told myself. He said two minutes.
I counted the seconds in my head, each one stretching into an eternity.
One minute passed. Then two.
At three minutes, I started to panic.
At four minutes, I heard the gunshot.
The sound split the night like a crack of thunder, and my whole world stopped.
"Hudson!" I screamed, fumbling with the deadbolt, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grip the lock.
The door flew open before I could get it unlocked.
