Page 131 of Critical Mass
Then he’d pay it.
Even if it broke his heart.
EPILOGUE
TWO WEEKS LATER
The conference roomat Blackout headquarters had been transformed.
Hudson paused in the doorway, taking in the scene. Someone—probably Elise, Colton’s wife—had strung autumn garlands along the walls and placed small pumpkins as centerpieces on the long table that normally held tactical maps and mission briefings. The overhead fluorescents had been dimmed, replaced by warm lamplight that made the space feel almost cozy.
Almost like a home instead of a military-style compound.
“You going to stand there all day gaping or come in?” Jake called from where he stood with Raven tucked against his side.
Hudson stepped inside, feeling awkward in jeans and a sweater instead of tactical gear. “I wasn’t sure I was still invited after everything that happened.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Elise appeared with a tray of appetizers, her smile warm despite the fatigue he could see around her eyes. Being married to Colton Locke meant she knew exactly what kind of operation they’d just completed. “You stopped a terrorist attack. You’re definitely invited to Friendsgiving.”
“Besides,” Atlas added from his spot on the couch where Quinn was curled against him, “if we only kept company with the unblemished, this room would echo with loneliness. We're stronger for our fractures.”
“Hear, hear.” Maverick raised his glass, and so did Sheridan beside him.
Hudson grabbed a glass of something bubbly and found a spot near the window, watching as his teammates and their significant others laughed and talked. It wasn’t just his team here. There were other Blackout operatives as well.
The gathering had been Elise’s idea—a Friendsgiving celebration before the actual holiday, a chance to decompress after weeks of debriefing and testimony and paperwork.
A chance to remember they were more than just operatives.
“You did good work.” Ty appeared at Hudson’s elbow. His wife, Cassidy, stood a few feet away, deep in conversation with Raven about historical artifacts. “The chemical weapons are secure, Sigma’s leadership is in custody, and the intel we gathered is helping the FBI bring down the entire network.”
“Brass is alive,” Hudson said. “That’s something.”
“Is it?” Ty’s voice was gentle but probing. “He tried to kill thousands of people, Hudson. The fact that he’s your former teammate doesn’t change that.”
“I know.” Hudson took a long sip of his drink. “Doesn’t make it easier.”
They stood in silence for a moment, watching the others. Jake was telling some story that had Raven laughing. Atlas had his fingers intertwined with Quinn’s. Maverick and Sheridan were sitting close enough that their knees touched.
A moment of longing hit him.
“Where’s Natalie?” Ty asked.
There it was. The question Hudson had been dreading all evening.
“She’s not coming.”
Ty’s expression shifted to understanding. “She still needs time?”
“Yeah.” Hudson’s chest tightened. “Her father’s lawyer worked out a plea deal—Ravenscroft will serve five years for criminal negligence and obstruction. Natalie has been dealing with that, with the media attention, with trying to figure out what’s next for her life.”
“And you?”
“I’m giving her space.” Hudson forced himself to say it calmly, like it wasn’t tearing him apart. “She asked for time to process everything. I’m respecting that.”
“Even if it means you lose her?”
“Especially if it means I lose her. She deserves to make her own choice without me pressuring her or manipulating her.” Hudson met Ty’s eyes. “I used her once. I won’t do it again.”
