Page 129 of Critical Mass
“I know.” Jake’s expression softened. “I’m just saying it’s not over yet. The paperwork alone is going to take weeks. The investigation into Ravenscroft, into Sigma’s operations, into how deep this went—it’s going to get messy.”
“It’s already messy.”
“Messier then.” Jake clasped his shoulder. “But you stopped it. We stopped it. That’s what matters.”
Hudson wasn’t sure he agreed. Yes, they’d stopped the attack. Saved thousands of lives. Dismantled a major terrorist operation.
But looking at Natalie—at the woman he loved, who’d been lied to, manipulated, and nearly killed because of his operation—Hudson wasn’t sure victory was the right word for what this felt like.
Atlas joined them, limping slightly but otherwise unharmed. “Brass is unraveling—every name, every location, every secret he kept. A desperate man bargaining with the only currency he has left.”
“Will it work?” Hudson asked.
“The price of betrayal is rarely negotiable. But hope makes fools of us all.” Atlas glanced toward Natalie. “What about her father?”
“It’s complicated,” Jake said. “He was being blackmailed, coerced. But he also benefited financially and looked the other way for years. The DA’s going to have to figure out where criminal negligence ends and active conspiracy begins.”
Hudson’s jaw tightened. Ravenscroft’s legal troubles were just beginning, which meant Natalie’s nightmare wasn’t over either.
“Words left unspoken have a way of becoming permanent,” Atlas said quietly. “She's looking for you. Go.”
Hudson followed his gaze and realized it was true. Every few seconds, Natalie’s eyes would flick toward him, then quickly away. Like she wanted to talk to him but didn’t know how.
Or maybe like she wanted him to leave and never come back.
Only one way to find out.
CHAPTER
SEVENTY-THREE
Hudson pushedhimself off the ambulance bumper and walked across the pier, acutely aware of every step, every eye watching him approach.
Ravenscroft saw him coming and stood. The FBI agent guarding him bristled but didn’t make a move to stop him.
Ravenscroft’s expression was carefully neutral as he turned toward Hudson. The man’s hands were cuffed behind his back now, all air of authority gone. “Hudson. Or should I call you something else?”
“Hudson is fine, sir.”
“I suppose I should thank you. For stopping this. For keeping Natalie safe.”
“I’m glad she’s safe.”
Something flickered across Ravenscroft’s face—regret maybe. “So am I.” He glanced at his daughter. “I’ll give you two a moment.”
He limped away toward the FBI agents, leaving Hudson alone with Natalie.
She looked up at him, her brown eyes red-rimmed from tears and exhaustion. The shock blanket was still wrapped around her shoulders, and her scraped hands rested in her lap.
“Hi,” Hudson said, then immediately felt like an idiot.
Hi?After everything that had just happened?
“Hi.” Her voice sounded small, uncertain.
He wanted to sit beside her, to put his arm around her, to hold her and promise everything would be okay.
But he had no right to do any of those things. Not after what he’d done.
