Page 11 of Breaking Hudson

“I spend far too much time at the office for that,” I laugh. “Which reminds me, Hudson…”

“I love you, but you are not going back there,” Hudson says.

“I thought you’d say that. Am I just a bum living at your house now?” I ask.

“No, you can come here,” Hudson says. “Or stay home and read. Either way, you are not a bum.”

“What in the world would I do here?” I ask. “Train people on how to eat junk food?”

“No, smartass,” he laughs. “We both have a master’s in business administration. I am opening another gym soon, so you can help me do business shit.”

“Why do I have a feeling you are drowning in paperwork?”

“Hey. I had to make sure there was work for you when I finally stole you away from that sketchy office,” he says.

“Yep. Stay too late and it gets even more sketchy,” I frown.

“Huh?” Jayden asks.

“So… Let’s go downstairs,” Hudson says.

“Downstairs?” I ask.

“One of the many things I’m about to explain,” he says before kissing me.

We all walk downstairs to the basement, and it opens up into a huge room. There is a large mat in the center with a red circle on it. All of the seating is facing toward the mat, and there is a bar in the back with more seating. I turn to look at Hudson and he is studying me.

“Do you run a fight club?” I ask him.

“I do,” Hudson says. “Thoughts?”

“Why don’t I ever see you hurt?” I ask. “I see you more than just Saturdays.”

“Because I’m good,” he says as he lifts me up to sit me on one of the tables.

“They call him the Reaper,” Dallas says as he and the others come over.

“Why?” I ask him.

“Because…” Dallas starts to say, but stops.

“Because I inadvertently killed someone with a well-placed punch to the head,” he says, standing in front of me.

“At least I’m not the only one out here murdering people,” I say, making him smile. “What else?”

“Uh. Betting. Sometimes people like to bet when they don’t have the money and… well that doesn’t go well for them,” Hudson says carefully.

“You mean…” I start to ask. For whatever reason, panic swells inside of me when all I can imagine is Hudson being one of the three men. Being surrounded by these five men is suddenly overwhelming. I hop off the table and back up, but Hudson gently grabs my waist and pulls me back to him.

“Breathe, Colette,” he says, taking my face between his hands.

“You… How many?”

“I don’t know,” he says softly.

“Say it,” I say tearfully, trying to calm down.

“I have killed people, and I don’t know how many,” he says. I try to pull away again, but he holds onto me. “Listen, Colette. I am not those men. That is not how I operate. I make sure that whatever I do, it doesn’t involve others. I would never do what those men did, okay? I would never hurt you, Colette.”

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