Page 51 of Curvy Desire's Second Shot

We slipped through a side door,the creak of the rusted hinges sending a jolt through me. Hudson froze, his hand going to the knife strapped to his belt, but the voices from the other room didn’t falter. I let out a slow breath, my pulse pounding as we crept down the hallway.

The closer we got, the clearer the conversation became.

“—need to make it count,” one man said, his voice sharp. “This isn’t just about sending a message. It’s about control.”

Another man, younger and jittery, chimed in. “But the community center? That’s not exactly a high-value target.”

“That’s the point,” the first man snapped. “No one expects it. Hit them where they feel safe, and they’ll fall in line.”

My stomach dropped, and I exchanged a glance with Hudson. The community center wasn’t just a gathering place—it was a lifeline for so many people. Families. Kids. People who needed somewhere to feel safe.

“They’re targeting civilians,” Hudson murmured, his voice laced with anger.

We moved closer,careful to stay out of sight. The men continued their discussion, pointing to the map and gesturing animatedly. I caught fragments of their plan—explosives, coordinated entry points, timing meant to catch as many people off guard as possible. It was methodical, cruel, and entirely too real.

“We need to stop this,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“We will,” Hudson said, his tone steady but fierce.

But before we could move, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind us. My blood ran cold, and I turned to see a man—a low-level member, judging by his disheveled appearance—staring at us with wide eyes.

“Hey!” he shouted, reaching for something at his side.

Hudson didn’t hesitate. He lunged forward, his movements quick and precise, pinning the man against the wall before he could draw a weapon. I stepped back, my heart racing as Hudson pressed a hand over the man’s mouth.

“Not a word,” Hudson growled, his voice low and dangerous.

The man’s eyes darted to me, then back to Hudson, fear etched across his face. Hudson tightened his grip, his gaze cold and unyielding. “If you scream, you won’t like what happens next.”

The man nodded frantically, his breathing ragged. Hudson released him just enough to let him speak.

“What are you doing here?” the man whispered, his voice trembling.

“Getting answers,” Hudson said. “And if you don’t want to be part of this anymore, you’ll forget you saw us.”

“I... I can’t,” the man stammered. “They’ll kill me.”

“Then make a choice,” Hudson said sharply. “Us or them. Because if you raise the alarm, you’re not walking out of here.”

The man swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between us. Finally, he nodded, his shoulders sagging in defeat. “I didn’t see anything.”

Hudson released him, and the man bolted down the hall, his footsteps fading into the distance. I let out a shaky breath, my legs feeling like they might give out beneath me.

“That was too close,” I whispered.

“Let’s go,” Hudson said, grabbing my hand. “We’ve got what we need.”

We slipped outof the building the way we came, sticking to the shadows until we reached the safety of the truck. My heart was still racing as I climbed into the passenger seat, the weight of what we’d overheard pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.

“They’re going after innocent people,” I said, my voice trembling. “We can’t let them.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Hudson

The photograph sat heavily in my mind as we drove through the city streets, the truck rumbling softly beneath us. Naomi was quiet beside me, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. But I could feel the tension radiating off her, the weight of what we’d overheard pressing down on both of us.

The Fold’s plan wasn’t just a warning anymore—it was a promise. They were planning an attack on the community center, a place filled with families, children, and people who had nothing to do with this fight. It wasn’t just personal anymore. It was about saving lives.

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