Page 22 of Critical Mass
Natalie looked at Hudson, searching his face for . . . what? Reassurance? Permission? Some sign that getting off this boat and going with these armed strangers was the right choice?
“Maverick’s with me.” Hudson said the words as if they should make her feel better. “He’s here to help keep you safe.”
Safe. There was that word again.
Natalie had been safe before she’d followed Hudson to that marina. Before she’d discovered his lies. Before people had started shooting at her.
But what choice did she have? Stay on this boat and wait for the men with guns to find them again?
She didn’t think so.
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
Natalie grippedthe man’s offered hand and climbed onto the dock, her legs shaking so badly she nearly fell.
The world tilted, and she wasn’t sure if it was from being on the water or from the adrenaline crashing through her system.
Another man appeared—this one broad with wavy hair and kind eyes—and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. The warmth was immediate and shocking, making her realize just how violently she’d been shivering.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Hudson pulled himself onto the dock behind her, and for a moment their eyes met. Even now, even after everything, part of her wanted to move toward him, wanted the comfort of his arms around her. She’d always loved the way he held her—strong and steady and safe.
But he wasn’t safe. He was the reason she needed safety in the first place.
And none of what had happened in their past had been real.
Hudson reached out to steady her as she swayed, his hand catching hers. The touch sent that familiar spark through her—the same one she’d felt the first time they’d touched, the same one she’d felt every time since. Her body’s stupid, traitorousresponse to a man who’d been lying to her since the moment they’d met.
Natalie jerked her hand away, angry at herself for feeling anything but fear and betrayal.
“Where are we going?” she demanded, pulling the blanket tighter around herself.
“Somewhere safe,” Hudson said.
“Stop saying that!” The words came out sharper than she’d intended, edged with hysteria she couldn’t quite control. “Stop giving me non-answers. Where. Are. We. Going?”
Hudson’s expression tightened, but his voice remained calm. “To my headquarters. It’s secure, protected. No one can get to you there.”
“And my father?” The question burst out before she could stop it. “What about my dad? He’ll be worried. I need to call him, I need to?—”
“We’ll figure that out when we get there,” Hudson interrupted.
“Figure it out? He’s probably terrified! I disappeared, I’m not answering my phone?—”
“Natalie.” Hudson’s voice was firm now. “We don’t have time for this discussion. Those men from the marina aren’t going to give up. They’re probably already mobilizing to find us. We need to move. Now.”
The curly haired man—Maverick, Hudson had called him—gestured toward the helicopter. “Ma’am, if you’ll come with me.”
Natalie looked at the helicopter, its rotors still spinning and causing her wet hair to whip around her face.
Then she looked at Hudson, at his two colleagues who watched her with professional concern.
She looked back across the dark water, toward the marina where people had tried to kill her.
She had no phone, no car, no way home. She was soaking wet, still tasting bile, shaking with cold and shock and fear.
