Page 81 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

I ran to him, my arms wrapping around him as I slammed into his chest. He caught me, his arms banding around my back, pulling me so tightly against him it almost hurt. But it was a good kind of hurt. It reminded me I was alive, strong. And thankfully, so was he—on both counts.

His warmth and strength enveloped me, and for the first time since waking up in that horrible house, I felt safe.

“Sofia,” he murmured in my ear. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

My throat burned with all the words I wanted to say to him, and my chest ached to let out what I was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I buried my face against his neck, gripping his white dress shirt with trembling, battered hands as the tears spilled over.

His hand came up, his fingers threading gently through my hair as he pressed his lips against the top of my head. “I’ve got you,” he repeated roughly, like he was holding back just as much as I was. “I’m here.”

I shook my head against him, the sobs breaking free before I could stop them. “I thought—” My voice cracked, and I tried again. “I didn’t want you to come.”

I felt his faint smile against my hair. “Why not?”

“Becausehewanted you to.”

We both looked down at Rex then, and I was glad Tommy was standing sentry over him, just in case he woke up.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Hudson said, softer now. “Not ever.”

I looked up at him, my hands still clutching his shirt. His face was bruised, and dirt streaked along his jawline. But his eyes—those hazel eyes I’d fallen for—were breathtaking. Not how they looked, but what they conveyed: Certainty. Love. Safety.

Tipping up on my toes, I pressed my forehead against his, my eyes fluttering closed as his arms tightened around me. For a moment, there was nothing else. No moonlit yard, no cops making their way over to us, no Rex lying still on the cold ground. There was only the still unsteady rhythm of Hudson’s breathing and the way his hold on me felt like he might never let go.

CHAPTER 26

Hudson

The sharp slamof the squad car door echoed through the crisp night air, and Rex’s voice cut through the quiet. “This isn’t over!” he bellowed, jagged and raw with fury.

Tommy stepped closer, his arms crossed. Our eyes met, and the look we shared said everything—this had been close. Too close, and it wouldn’t happen again.

As the squad car disappeared down the road, I finally let myself move. My gaze shifted to Dane’s SUV, and I strode over to grab my suit jacket from the backseat. By the time I reached Sofia, she was standing like a statue, arms wrapped around herself as the paramedics unloaded their gear.

I draped the jacket over her shoulders, adjusting it so it covered her completely. The dark fabric swallowed her whole, but when she grabbed the lapels and pulled it tighter, something inside me eased. She didn’t look at me, but the tension in her shoulders relaxed just slightly. It was enough.

The paramedics guided her to sit on the edge of the ambulance. One of them crouched in front of her, his voice gentle. “Let’s take a look at those wrists, miss.”

Sofia hesitated, her fingers trembling slightly as she held out her hands. The paramedic’s touch was careful, but her wince still hit me like a gut punch.

“Careful,” I snapped before I could stop myself. Several heads turned my way, but I didn’t care.

“Rope burns,” the paramedic muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “We’ll clean these up and wrap them. They’ll sting for a bit, but they’ll heal fine.”

Sofia nodded faintly, her gaze distant.

Another paramedic stepped closer and reached for the jacket. “Let me just?—”

“No.” Her voice cracked on the single syllable as she clutched it tighter, her shoulders tensing all over again.

I was between them in a second, my hands gently helping her pull the jacket tighter as I shot the guy a look. “Work around it.”

The older paramedic exchanged a glance with the younger one and nodded.

Good. It was the only thing I could give her right now.

I moved back, far enough so they could help her but close enough that I could breathe. They worked quickly, cleaning and wrapping the cuts on Sofia’s feet and hands. She winced now and then, but she didn’t pull away.

Tommy returned with three folded blankets, wrapping the first over Sofia. Then he tossed another blanket at me with a smirk. “Just put it on,” he said. “You’ll still look manly, I promise.”

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