Page 21

~ brIDGET ~

I crawled up into the back seat of Jeremy’s big black Yukon and ignored his muttering. I was grateful for the tinted windows because the media was outside, and even though they weren’t allowed down in the parking lot, there was some chance they’d know which vehicles belonged to the agents, and they’d be looking for me. This way, if anyone was trying to get a picture of me, they’d be disappointed.

Still, these big vehicles always made me feel like someone was trying to prove something.

The first time Jeremy had driven me around for official business, I teased him for being a walking cliché.

He informed me the vehicles were assigned by the Bureau and stereotypes always started somewhere.

I didn’t care. I dubbed it his Batmobile, and the moniker stuck. At least, for me.

“Na na na na na na, na na na na na na, batmaaaaaan.”

“You’re not cute,” Jeremy growled from the driver’s seat.

“He thinks I am,” I said, nodding to one of the younger agents who was always following him around and who’d taken the front passenger seat.

“That’s why he’s here. To learn,” Jeremy shot back.

The guy frowned. He looked to be about the same age as me, but the Jeremy clone version—suit and tie over an athletic body, square jaw, cocky tilt to the chin, tawny hair, short sides and back, but that tousled length on top that could be slicked back or down for a more professional impression. Of course, he didn’t say anything. In this guy’s world, Jeremy was batman.

I rolled my eyes, but no one was looking, so they didn’t catch it.

Instead, with a fierce sense of relief, I pulled out my phone and texted Sam. After all, everyone knew now. No matter what a clusterfuck the rest of this day had been, that much was good.

I couldn’t shake the unease, though.

That hadn’t gone the way we’d expected. It was so hard watching Sam walk away and not knowing what he was feeling.

ME: You ok? I’m in J’s car on the way home. I’m going to be “debriefed.”

SAM NOTPRIEST: I’m ok. It was hard to walk away. You looked pale. Are YOU ok?

ME: I need to see you. Since they know now, we might as well just do it. Do you want to come to mine, or I’ll come to you?

It took him a little longer to answer this time, which made me nervous. I reminded myself that he was with his lawyers, and probably getting reamed like I would be when we got home. I knew there was no way Jeremy was just leaving me alone after that.

SAM NOTPRIEST: Babe, the restraining order’s still in place. I’m not supposed to be within fifty feet of you without legal counsel.

ME: I’ll see if I can get that lifted now.

SAM NOTPRIEST: I’ll ask my guys too. I hope they can. When you get home, stay there. I’ll come to you.

ME: No if, Sam. I need to see you. They can’t stop a married couple from seeing each other.

SAM NOTPRIEST: I don’t think they see it that way. Maybe we should ask them. I’m sure they’re getting all these messages.

ME: JEREMY YOU FUCKING PERV, GET OUT OF MY PHONE .

ME: We’re making this happen, Sam. I need to see you.

SAM NOTPRIEST: *Laughing emoji*

SAM NOTPRIEST: Don’t worry, babe. We’ll get through this. I’m innocent and they know it. They just want to justify their jobs.

ME: I’ll talk to J. I’ll find a way to help.

SAM NOTPRIEST: His help is the last kind I need.

ME: He’s the one who requested the restraining order. He can get it lifted.

SAM NOTPRIEST: I guess we’ll see.

SAM NOTPRIEST: Maybe leave that up to my lawyers. You worry about you—I’m not getting you put in jail for the sake of a few hours talking. It’s not worth it.

ME: You think we’d be talking?

SAM NOTPRIEST: Stop. I can’t get hard in a conference room. I’m trying to prove I’m NOT a pervert.

ME: I miss you, my favorite vanilla man.

SAM NOTPRIEST: I ache for you, Bridget.

Ugh, just reading that made me ache too. I was busily tapping a response, trying to find words that would be reassuring, but Jeremy made a noise, and I instinctively looked up to find him glaring at me in the rearview mirror .

“What?” I muttered. Then I caught sight of the street ahead of us and frowned. “This isn’t the way to my house.”

“That’s because we aren’t going to your house, Bridget. Seriously? Did you forget that we have a legal requirement to make sure your head is on straight? Of course, I plan to hand you your ass at the same time.”

“You said we were debriefing. We’ve always done that at my house,” I insisted. Jeremy didn’t scare me, but the system did.

“Well, this time we’re doing it at the office.”

“Why?”

We were pulling up to a red light, and Jeremy hit the brake a little harder than strictly necessary so all three of us swayed forward in our seats. Then he gripped the steering wheel and used it to turn himself around in his seat to glare at me without the distance of the mirror .

He was livid—jaw tight, eyes afire, and his grip so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were white and the tendons stood up on the back of his hand.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Why can’t we debrief at my place?”

The clone looked back and forth between me and Jeremy, obviously uncomfortable.

Jeremy scoffed. “Because,” he snarled through his teeth. “We just learned you’re married to the fucking accused. Don’t you get it, Bridget? You just changed the whole fucking game.”

“You’re just pissed because I was able to keep the secret,” I snapped back.

“Are you twelve? Seriously, Bridget, I knew you were messed up, but this is bad, even for you. What’s next? Will you go back to the serial killer?”

I wanted to punch him for that. Of everyone, he knew how much that guy had freaked me out. Of everyone, he understood better.

But I couldn’t say anything because the clone was there, so I just stared it at him.

You fucking bastard. You self-serving cunt.

Jeremy’s jaw tightened—maybe there was a flash of conscience in there after all—and he dropped his tone. “Look, whatever,” he muttered, turning back to the front as the light changed back to green. “We have a lot of ground to cover. The lawyers need to change strategy. There’s a lot. And like I said, we have to make sure you aren’t detrimentally affected.”

“You detrimentally affect me every day and they don’t care.”

Jeremy sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Bridget, that is such bullshit—”

“Take me home. I’m going home, then I’m going to see my husband.”

“The fuck you are,” Jeremy snapped in a voice so low and dark, my adrenaline spiked.

I glared at him in the rearview mirror and he glared back. “You’re lifting that stupid restraining order and—”

“I’m filing for no-contact. He is clearly influencing you—”

“Don’t you dare. No! Absolutely fucking not— ”

“Fucking yes. Dear God, Bridget. What is going on in your head? You call me in to take this guy down, then marry him?!”

I shoved forward in the seat, caught by my seatbelt, which was probably a good thing because I wanted to crawl up there and start punching him.

“I didn’t know it was Sam! I never wanted you to take Sam and you fucking know it!”

“Newsflash, Bridget, yes you did. Because you told me to take Cain, and Sam and Cain are the same fucking person!”

I knew he thought that was true. And I knew legally it was. But he didn’t understand… in my mind, they’d been two different people. I didn’t know Cain’s edge was balanced by Sam’s compassion. I hadn’t known Sam’s morality was balanced by Cain’s darkness.

If I’d known, I never would have handed either of them over.

“…what’s gotten into you. I thought we were on the same page here. I thought you were playing the game because you understood. All anyone is trying to do is protect you and women like you—”

“No, you aren’t!” I shouted. “You’re all out there whipping out your dicks and trying to prove who can fuck someone else harder. Well you can take your macho bullshit to someone else’s party. I’m done! Sam is innocent and you know it and you’re just trying to prove a point!”

“You think the legal system of the United States of America gives two shits what points Jeremy Haines has to make? Wake up, Bridget: Your guy is violent. He’s a pervert. And the second you succeed in getting him off, he’s going to destroy you.”

“No, he’s not!”

“You’re right he’s not, because whether you’re a pain in the ass or not, I’m going to make sure he gets put back in a cage where he belongs!”

I almost did it. I almost put my fist through the window. Or ran. Or… something. My body was twitching, I was so tense. I wanted to scream. If the clone hadn’t been there, I would have. And I could tell Jeremy knew it.

He cursed and turned his eyes back to the road again, muttering to himself under his breath. But he didn’t throw anything else at me .

Fucker always knew when I was walking the line and he always backed off so I couldn’t accuse him of going too far.

Fuck.

Fuck!

I tucked the phone back into my pocket and folded my arms. Yet, it wasn’t enough. I didn’t feel solid. I wrapped my arms around my middle, hugging the seatbelt to me, but that wasn’t enough either. Pretty soon, uncertain whether I was going to cry or scream, I hunched forward in my seat, holding my pieces together.

I felt like I was coming apart at the seams.

“You can’t keep me from him,” I whispered, over and over again. “You can’t do it. He’s mine. You don’t understand. You can’t keep me from him…”

I wasn’t sure if they didn’t hear me, or just didn’t care, but thank god Jeremy didn’t have any more commentary for me.

When we pulled up at stark, unmarked back parking lot of the local FBI office, I was out of the car and running inside before Jeremy opened his door.

Security had to let me in and for a second I was bouncing on my heels, ready to bolt. But Jeremy must have signaled to them from behind me, because a moment later the dude nodded, then opened the door and let me through.

I ran into the building and to the elevators.

I knew where we were going. And if this was going to happen, then we needed to get it done so I could get out of here.

I needed to get the fuck out of here.