Claimed (Outlaws #1)

“But you weren’t invited, now, were you?” With a mocking smile, he dropped his gun on the table by the door.

Many of the cabins that made up the resort were equipped with living rooms and kitchens, but Connor had chosen one with the simplest layout. Bed, table, armchair, and bathroom. He didn’t need much more than that, but right now he regretted his choice, because the cabin felt too damn small. Three steps and he’d be on that bed with Hudson. Three steps and he could be buried inside her.

Shit. Clearly his time with Nell tonight had done nothing to erase his attraction to this woman.

Irritated by his own lust, he settled in the chair and folded his arms. “Talk.”

“I’ve been doing some thinking and…”

Connor waited.

“I want…” She trailed off again, digging her teeth into her bottom lip.

His annoyance grew. “You want what?”

“As long as I’m here, I want everything. I want to be free.” She stumbled over her next words. “I want you.”

It was precisely what he’d expected to hear. Freedom was a drug, one that grabbed hold of you the second it entered your bloodstream. It made you giddy and reckless if you didn’t know how to channel it. The hungry glint in Hudson’s eyes revealed the addiction had already taken root inside her, and it wasn’t all that long ago that Connor had seen the same expression on Kade’s face.

“You know the deal,” he said with a shrug. “You want everything? Then you’ve gotta give me something in return. Starting with the truth.”

Hudson drew a breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do. The truth? No, Connor could never have that. Not all of it, anyway. But she could offer him parts of it, just enough to make him believe she didn’t pose a threat to him. Just enough to convince him to let her stay.

Permanently.

“You’re right. I’m not an outlaw.” Then she shook her head to correct herself. “I mean, I haven’t been one for long.”

“You’re from the city.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded.

Sharp hazel eyes probed her face. “How did you get out? How did you get past the main checkpoint?”

“I had certain… privileges,” she admitted. “My father was an important man before he died. He had ties to West Colony’s council members. I guess you could call him an adviser.”

The real story played in her head as she spoke, as she carefully edited out the details she knew would spur Connor to reach for his gun and blow her head off.

My father wasn’t an adviser to the council – he was Arthur Lane, one of the founding members of the GC. He was alive for the war. He was the one who implemented the new system.

He was your enemy.

“I didn’t have a city job,” she went on. “I worked in the council sector.”

“Doing what?” he demanded.

“Mostly nursing. You know about the clinic, right?”

Connor’s lips curled. “You mean the only medical facility in the city? The one that exclusively treats Enforcers and council members while letting everyone else rot from injury and disease? Yeah, I know all about it, sweetheart.”

His bitterness polluted the air, and Hudson didn’t bother defending the accusations. Medical treatment wasn’t available to the masses, if you could call the meager human population a “mass.” The people in charge, however, reaped the rewards of the advanced medical technology in the council sector. Council members were given all the treatments or medications they needed. So did their offspring, the ones being groomed for council seats when the older generation passed on. And, of course, the Enforcers earned the privilege because of their upstanding work protecting the Colonies.

Everyone else was shit out of luck.

“I worked in the clinic, patching up Enforcers.”

Connor’s frown told her he didn’t like that one bit, but he didn’t comment on it. “Did you ever visit their compound?”

She shook her head.

I didn’t have to visit it. I lived there. I am your enemy.

But no, damn it, she wasn’t his enemy. She was never going back to that compound, to the city, to the brother who’d betrayed her. She could be Connor’s ally, if only he let her.

“Sometimes the medical staff are given a pass out of the city, usually when an Enforcer gets hurt and can’t be transported to the clinic. They get us out there on a chopper, or by truck if it’s nearby, and we treat the injured Enforcer on site.” She took a breath. “That’s what happened the day I escaped. The doctor and I were called out to treat someone, and we drove out of the city in one of the response trucks.”

“How’d you get away from the group?”

“When we got there, there was only one Enforcer injured, but two other men were with him, and one of them was apparently his close buddy. After we patched him up, I told the buddy that he should ride with his friend and I’d come back with the remaining soldier. So they drove back to the city with the doctor, and I was left with the other Enforcer.”