A figure emerged from the darkness.
Hudson.
He was covered in blood and there was a new cut above his eyebrow, but he was alive. He was alive and walking toward me with that same intensity in his eyes that had always made me feel like the center of his universe.
"It's over," he said.
I didn't wait for him to reach me. I dropped the gun and ran, throwing myself into his arms, sobbing against his chest.
"I thought…..I thought he….."
"I know, baby. I know." His arms came around me, holding me so tight I couldn't breathe. "But it's over now. He's gone. He can't hurt you anymore."
I pulled back to look at him. "Gone? You mean?"
"Dead." Hudson's expression was hard, unyielding. "He gave me no choice."
I should've felt something. Horror, maybe, at the casual way he said it. Guilt that a man was dead because of me.
But all I felt was relief.
Overwhelming, bone-deep relief.
"The trial," I said, suddenly remembering. "I still have to testify. Briggs?"
"Is in FBI custody." Hudson pulled out his phone, showing me a message from Agent Torres. "They picked him up an hour ago. He's done, Betty. They're both done."
I stared at the screen, trying to process the words.
It was over.
It was really, truly over.
The adrenaline that had been keeping me upright suddenly drained away, and my legs gave out. Hudson caught me before I hit the ground, scooping me into his arms like I weighed nothing.
"I've got you," he said. "I've got you."
I buried my face in his neck and let myself fall apart.
The next few hours were a blur.
Reeves and Santos found us first, then the FBI, then the local police. There were paramedics checking my head wound, insisting Hudson get looked at despite his protests. There were statements to give and questions to answer and forms to fill out.
Through all of it, Hudson stayed by my side. His hand in mine. His presence steady and solid and reassuring.
Agent Torres found us around dawn, as the first gray light was filtering through the trees.
"Ms. Ramirez," she said, her expression softer than I'd ever seen it. "How are you holding up?"
"I'm alive," I said. "Thanks to Hudson."
Torres glanced at him, something like respect in her eyes. "Mr. Cole, your actions tonight were impressive. Lang would've killed her if you hadn't intervened."
"That was never going to happen," Hudson said flatly.
"No," Torres agreed. "I don't suppose it was." She turned back to me. "The DA still wants you to testify. Even with Lang dead and Briggs in custody, your testimony will help seal the case. Make sure Chris Greene gets justice."
Chris Greene. The man who'd started all of this. The man who'd died in that alley behind my bar, whose murder I'd witnessed, whose death had set my entire life on fire.
