Page 10 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

“Hudson,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“I’ve spent every minute since you came back fighting this,” I said, the words spilling out like I’d lost control of them. “Fighting the way I feel about you. Telling myself it’s too dangerous, that I need to protect you. But the truth is, I’m protecting you because I can’t lose you. Not again.”

Her lips parted, but before she could respond, a faint noise outside broke the moment. My head snapped toward the window, every nerve in my body going on high alert.

“What was that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay here,” I said sharply, moving toward the window. I pulled the curtain aside just enough to see the yard. The streetlight cast long shadows, but there was movement—someone creeping along the side of the house.

“Hudson—” Naomi started, but I cut her off with a glance.

“Stay here,” I repeated, grabbing the baseball bat I’d spotted in the corner of the living room earlier. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

I slipped out the back door, the cool night air biting at my skin as I stepped into the shadows. My eyes adjusted quickly, and I caught sight of the intruder near the side window. He was crouched low, fiddling with something—a lockpick, maybe. The sight sent a surge of rage through me.

“Hey!” I barked, my voice cutting through the stillness like a whip.

The figure froze, his head snapping toward me. For a split second, I saw his face—a young guy, early twenties, wearing a hoodie pulled low. Then he bolted.

“Son of a—” I muttered, taking off after him. My boots hit the pavement hard as I chased him down the narrow alley between houses. He was fast, but adrenaline fueled my stride, closing the gap between us.

He glanced over his shoulder, panic flashing in his eyes, and took a sharp turn toward the main road. Bad move. I lunged, grabbing the back of his hoodie and yanking him off balance. He stumbled, hitting the ground with a grunt.

“Who sent you?” I demanded, pinning him down.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he spat, struggling beneath me.

“Wrong answer,” I growled, twisting his arm just enough to make him wince. “Why were you breaking into her house?”

“I wasn’t?—”

“Don’t lie to me,” I snapped. “Tell me who sent you, or this gets worse for you.”

He clamped his mouth shut, his jaw set in defiance. I resisted the urge to shake him—barely. Instead, I yanked his hoodie down, committing his face to memory. Then I let him go.

“Get the hell out of here,” I said coldly. “And if I see you near her again, you won’t walk away next time.”

He scrambled to his feet, his face pale, and took off running. I watched him disappear into the night, my fists clenched at my sides. Whoever he was, he wasn’t acting alone. This wasn’t random.

Turning back to the house, I felt the weight of the situation settle on my shoulders. Someone was targeting Naomi, and it was my job to figure out why—and stop them. The idea that she might be caught in the crossfire of something bigger made my blood boil.

When I stepped back inside, Naomi was standing in the living room, her arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and I could see the fear she was trying to hide.

“Was someone out there?” she asked, her voice small.

“Yes,” I said, setting the bat down and moving toward her. “But he’s gone now.”

Her brow furrowed, and she took a step closer. “Who was it? What did he want?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I’m going to find out.”

Her eyes searched mine, and for a moment, she looked like she was about to argue. But then she nodded, her trust in me unspoken but clear. It hit me like a punch to the gut—how much she was relying on me, how much I couldn’t afford to fail her.

I closed the distance between us, my hands settling on her shoulders. “Pack a bag,” I said, my voice firm.

“What?” she asked, confused.

“You’re not staying here anymore,” I said, meeting her wide-eyed stare. “It’s not safe. You’re coming with me.”

---