Page 132 of Critical Mass
Ty nodded slowly. “That’s growth, Hudson. Real growth. Not many operators can separate mission from emotion the way you’re doing.”
Hudson wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an observation.
Before he could respond, Colton called everyone to the table. “All right, people, let’s pray and then eat before this food gets cold. Elise spent all day cooking, and if we let it go to waste, I’ll be sleeping on the couch.”
Elise only smiled and shook her head.
Then they bowed their heads as Ty lifted a prayer, thanking God for their safety, for this team, for stopping the horrible terrorist attack before it happened.
After he said amen, they gathered around the table—this team of operatives and the people who loved them.
While everyone else sat beside their significant other, Hudson sat alone at the corner, trying not to think about the empty chair beside him.
“Before we start,” Colton’s voice took on that commanding tone that meant he was speaking as their leader rather than their friend, “I want to say something. This team has been through a lot over the past year. We’ve faced bombs and hurricanes and power grid failures and chemical weapons. We’ve lost people—” His eyes flicked to Hudson. “—and found people we thought were lost. We’ve been betrayed and tested and pushed to our absolute limits.”
He paused, looking around the table at each of them.
“But we’re still here. Still standing. Still fighting. And we’re stronger because we don’t fight alone anymore. We have partners who understand what we do, who support us, who remind us why we do this impossible job.” Colton’s hand found Elise’s, squeezing gently. “So tonight, I’m grateful. For all of you. For this team. For this family we’ve built.”
“Hear, hear.” Jake raised his glass.
They all followed suit, glasses clinking, murmurs of agreement and affection flowing around the table.
Hudson raised his glass with them, but the gesture felt hollow.
“Hudson.” The voice came from the doorway, soft and uncertain.
His heart stopped.
Was he imagining things?
He turned, and there she was. Natalie, wearing jeans and a burgundy sweater, her dark hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders. She looked nervous, her hands clasped in front of her.
But she was here.
“I hope I’m not too late.” Natalie’s eyes met his across the room. “For dinner, I mean. I got held up with—” She stopped,shook her head. “Actually, that’s a lie. I got held up because I was sitting in my car for twenty minutes trying to decide if I should come in.”
No one at the table moved. No one spoke.
They just watched, probably realizing this was a moment that needed to happen.
Hudson stood slowly, his drink forgotten. “What made you decide to come in?”
“I realized something.” Natalie took a few steps into the room, her gaze never leaving his. “I’ve been so focused on the lies you told, on the deception, on what you did wrong that I forgot to look at what you did right.”
“Natalie—”
“You saved my life. Multiple times. You put yourself between me and danger without hesitation. You shot your own teammate to protect everyone on that pier.” Her voice shook slightly. “And when I asked for space, for time, you gave it to me. No pressure. No manipulation. Just . . . respect for what I needed.”
Hudson’s throat tightened. “You deserved that.”
“I did. I do.” She moved closer, until she was standing right in front of him. “But I also deserve to be honest about what I want. And, Hudson, I want to try. I want to see if we can build something real, something based on truth instead of lies. It’s going to be hard. I’m going to have trust issues. There will be days when I’m angry about what happened.”
“I know.”
“But there will also be days when I remember that you came for me. That you fought for me. That you respected me enough to let me make my own choices.” Natalie’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “So if you’re willing to be patient, if you’re willing to earn back my trust one day at a time . . . I’d like to try.”
Hudson felt something crack open in his chest—hope, relief, joy all mixed together. “Are you sure?”
