Page 38

SOUNDTRACK: Eating Me Alive by Last Night Rideand Kellin Quinn

~ brIDGET ~

Jeremy’s expression tightened as I stalked up to him, but he stayed leaning back on my car, his arms folded.

“I always knew you got off on being a creeper, but this is getting ridiculous,” I spat.

His jaw went tight. “I was pinged this morning when your plate was identified entering the State Park at the same time your phone’s location said you were safely at home. Imagine my surprise…”

Shit shit shit! “So, you’re following me on an unplugged picnic now?”

“A picnic, Bridge? Seriously?”

I rolled my eyes. “What do you want?”

“I could ask you the same thing, but I already know the answer,” he muttered as I got close. He pushed off the car and loomed over me, scowling. “I know exactly what’s been going on here and I can’t believe you’re that fucking stupid. Is it Sam I’d find out there, or did you find yourself another stalker?”

“The only stalker here is you.”

Jeremy shook his head his expression tight and angry. “I was too late to catch you—or him—this time, but it won’t happen again, Bridget. You’ve got my word on that. ”

“You are unhinged—” I began, but startled when Jeremy exploded.

“Unhinged? You’re calling me unhinged? Are you fucking kidding me?!”

I went still, body rushing with fear, my heart banging. “Do you see me laughing?”

Jeremy opened his mouth and shook his head, then drew back, raking a hand through his hair and turning away for a second like he was pulling himself together. When he locked eyes on me again, I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so furious. But he had lowered his voice so that the family packing up their car on the other side of the parking lot couldn’t hear him. He pointed at me as he spoke, though.

“Help me, Bridget. Help me get a fucking clue—”

“You could start with not following me when I’m just living my life.”

“But that’s the thing, Bridget. You aren’t. I wish you were living your life—I wish!”

I laughed, but it was brittle. My breath was shallow and my vision narrowed. But I pretended I was unflustered. “Where did the drama llama come from, Jer?”

“Do not laugh at me, Bridget. Don’t fucking do it.”

“It’s either laugh or scream. You’re so out of line right now I don’t even know where to start. I always knew you were a controlling bastard, but this? You get pings on my car? What the fuck!?”

“Controlling?” he barked. “You want to know what the fuck, Bridget? How about I’m controlling you not fucking dying? And yet, even after I saved you from that psycho, you put your life out for sale on the open fucking market? I’ve been below the cliff busting my ass to save you since you were sixteen years old, and it was so close, Bridget. So fucking close—I decided I wasn’t waiting at the bottom anymore. So now I’m standing at the top, trying to yank you back you before you throw yourself off, and you’re fighting me. You’re fucking fighting.”

I stared at him. His face was pale. His hair sticking out in five different directions. His eyes blazed with fury, but there was something else there too… Fear?

“Jeremy— ”

“But now I get it,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Now it’s clear—that’s what you like, right? You want the fight. You want resistance? Is it just so you can convince yourself I still care? Is that it? Are you looking for some guy to smack you around until you can’t take it anymore, then you’ll call me? Tell me, what happens the day you get it wrong? Or God forbid, I do? What happens the day I don’t catch the call in time—or you don’t make it to the phone? What happens the day I don’t get the ping, Bridget? Huh? What then?! Because this is twice now we’ve been so fucking close.”

“Sam wasn’t going to kill me—”

“And you’re still fucking lying to yourself about it, my God!” he roared.

The family across the parking lot froze. I looked at them warily, and Jeremy caught himself. He straightened, rubbed his face with both hands, then turned around without another word and stalked across the parking lot towards the woman who now stood next to her trunk, watching him approach like he was a snake she couldn’t decide was poisonous or not.

With his back to me I didn’t hear his words, but I saw him reach into his inside jacket pocket. She relaxed then, until he pointed back to me and gestured towards the forest.

Her eyes widened and she looked at the trees, then turned to her kids and hissed at them, hurrying them into the car.

Was he…?

She nodded at Jeremy, thanking him, I thought, then the car doors slammed as everyone piled into the vehicle and moments later they were pulling out to the road.

Jeremy watched them go, then walked back to me, his face grim.

“Did you just flash your badge?” I asked him, incredulous. He’d always been so clear that he couldn’t do that unless he had an official reason.

“There’s a potential killer in the fucking forest and an agent who’s been reckless. Yes, I told the woman to get her family out of here, Bridget. I’d do the same to you, but that would just make you run back in, right?”

His tone wasn’t as sharp now, but his teeth were clenched and… his face had gone pale.

“You’re overreacting,” I muttered .

He stopped one pace from me, shaking his head. “Your compass for reacting is so off-course, that statement is laughable.”

“Stop being an asshole—”

“There’s that stellar compass again—tell me what not being an asshole looks like, so I can be clear next time?”

I scowled at him. “Leaving me alone when I’m not doing anything wrong is a good start.”

“Alone? Leaving you alone? Is this another joke? The last two times I left you alone you almost got yourself killed”

“If you cared about me—”

“Let’s define terms, Bridget, so I can be sure I’m getting it right. You’re telling me caring is leaving you to swan dive off a fucking cliff?”

I shut my mouth and glared at him. “I’m not jumping off anything. I hiked for a few hours in a park.”

“Leaving your phone at home,” he spat.

“Because I didn’t want anyone hanging over my shoulder,” I said pointedly. “But you still found a way. Congratulations.”

He was breathing quickly, hands on his hips, still shaking his head and for a second he looked so tortured, I wondered if I’d actually broken him.

“Jeremy—”

“You don’t have a clue. You don’t have a fucking clue what I go through for you, Bridget.”

“You mean all those plaques on your wall and the newspaper articles about the real life secret agent cleaning up the Pacific Northwest? Poor Special Agent Haines, it’s so hard to be celebrated!”

“That is such bullshit.”

“No, Jeremy, this is bullshit,” I said, flipping fingers between the two of us. “I wouldn’t fight you if you were right. I fight for the good guys—and we used to do that together. You used to be the good guys! I was handing you the bad ones, remember? You and your fucking closure rates and promotions and whatever the fuck else you get for grabbing these assholes. You wouldn’t have even found them without me and now you’re saying I’m the problem— ”

“It was your fucking idea!” He was panting, his shoulder rising and falling and his eyes wild. Fear jangled through me, but he struggled, wrestled, pulled himself together.

When he spoke again he’d stopped yelling and dropped his voice to a low hush. “You can dance around it all you want, Bridget. But we’re here for you. We’re here because of you. And while I’m scrambling to do my job, you’re treating me like I’m the fucking criminal.”

“Feels pretty shitty, doesn’t it?” I shot back.

“God!” He clawed his hands like he wanted to shake me, but didn’t touch me. Both hands plunged into his hair instead. “It’s like talking to a brick wall!”

“I’m familiar with the experience,” I muttered.

“Bridget… Bridget, please!” he pleaded. I blinked.

He wasn’t raging, he looked… scared? “What?” I asked uncertainly.

“This thing you do… this edge you walk… it doesn’t have to be like this. We can protect you. We can give you whatever fucking experience you want—you don’t have to go to these pricks for… whatever it is you think you’re getting out of this. You want to get chased? You want to get taken down? We can do that—I have a dozen guys that can do that. We’ll call it training. You don’t have to do this with these monsters!”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that monster was my husband, but I knew I couldn’t risk it. I had to swallow that back and get my head straight.

“Sam’s not a monster, Jeremy,” I said more calmly than I’d said anything else. But I locked eyes with him and let him see how serious I was. “You and Sam… you’re both comfortable in the dark. The only difference is what drives you.”

He scoffed. “Me wanting to do what’s right, and him wanting what he wants?”

“No,” I insisted. “You wanting to make yourself look like a hero, and him just caring about me .”

“Dear God, you really believe that, don’t you? It’s not just an excuse?” He stared at me, wide-eyed like I’d stunned him. “Bridget, if all I wanted was to be a hero, do you think I’d be out here in the pig’s ass of nowhere waiting for you? Alone?” He pointed off into the distance. “That asshole doesn’t give two shits about you. He’s waiting to get what he can out of you, then he’ll show his true colors and then who will be there to pick up the pieces, Bridget? Again.”

I shook my head spat through gritted teeth, but the fear jangled through me. “No, that’s not—”

“Holy shit. Have you forgotten that finding and removing criminals is literally my job? I am an actual expert. He’s a fucking criminal. By every definition.”

“By legal definition, so am I. But he’s helping me. Why is that a crime?”

“Because he tried to fucking kill you!” he bellowed, his face turning red.

“No, he didn’t,” I shouted back. “That’s what you refuse to believe. You think I don’t know the difference, Jeremy? Me!?”

“You didn’t with the last guy,” he snapped and my whole body went hot.

My hand shot out and I slapped his face, the crack of it echoing across the trees. Jeremy’s head snapped to the side and he brought a hand up to rub his jaw, but I didn’t give two shits if I’d actually hurt him. I put a finger under his nose and spat. “That’s the second time you’ve used that against me. If you ever do it again I’m refusing to work with you ever again,” I said, wishing my voice didn’t shake. “Don’t give me bullshit about how you care, then throw my mistakes in my face. You’re far from flawless. You missed that one too—let’s not forget that!”

He was still rubbing his jaw and his eyes blazed, but he’d calmed down somehow. “That’s exactly my point,” he muttered. “That’s why this will go so wrong, and you don’t see it. You rely on me getting to you, and I’m fucking terrified that the next time I’ll be too late!”

“Do not put your mistakes on me!”

“You don’t give me any choice—what if I hadn’t shown up in time that night, Bridget? What then?”

I was starting to tremble, but I glared a warning at him. Don’t make me think about that night. “So, we both made mistakes, except I don’t weaponize yours against you. Because it’s a dick move.”

Jeremy gave a heavy sigh and his shoulders slumped. He dropped his head, staring at the cement. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I was… I need you to wake up. I’m not lying, Bridge. Every day I’m fucking terrified I’m going to get to work and find out you’re dead.”

God. Jeremy being soft was way worse than Jeremy mad. I took a step back.

“I learned a lot from that guy. And I can tell you, Sam never wanted me dead.”

His eyes screwed tight and his hands went to fists again. “So… fucking… impossible.”

“Stop acting like you’re my father. You aren’t, Jeremy. Trust me. I don’t need another one of him.”

His head snapped up and he glared at me. “I’m trying to save your life while you try to throw it away. And you won’t listen. So this is it, Bridget. Last chance. I mean it. I was too late today, but it won’t happen again. From this point on, if I even suspect you’re being hunted, I’m calling in backup. I don’t care if I have to get the fucking helicopters out here, I will find him, and I will arrest him. I will throw his ass in jail for breach of parole so fast it’ll leave you spinning. And then I’ll get him on the attempted murder charges because guess what the jury will think when they find out he’s still stalking you? Maybe when you’ve been forced to stay away from him for a few months the fog will clear and you’ll realize I was doing you a favor. Because I’m not the fucking villain here!”

I bristled, but fear screamed in my head. “You can bring your toys and your boys out to my next picnic. I don’t care. Because he’s not here, Jeremy.”

He stared at me, then leaned in until we were almost nose to nose. “And that’s how I know I can’t trust your judgment anymore,” he said quietly. He straightened and stepped back, raking a hand through his hair again. “I won’t tell anyone you hit me,” he said quietly. “I was a prick. I’ll own that. And I’m sorry. I won’t… I won’t throw that at you again. But let’s be very clear: I’m never going to apologize for trying to keep you alive—even if the one trying to kill you is you. So, make your choice, Bridget. Because the next time you decide to play cat and mouse I’m going to be there, and I’m skinning that cat alive.”

I stood there, knowing I needed to argue. I had to keep him busy and not thinking about putting surveillance on Sam’s car or any of the other things they could do to find him out here. But my head kept shrieking, images of Sam getting slammed behind cell bars and… shit.

“You got your keys?” Jeremy asked quietly, looking at my car.

I nodded dumbly.

“Don’t forget what I said,” he muttered, then turned on his heel and strode over to the Batmobile without looking back.

Of course, he didn’t leave. He started the vehicle and sat there, watching me in the mirror until I unlocked my car and slipped into the driver’s seat. My hands shook so bad I almost dropped the keys getting them into the ignition. But I got the car going and pulled out—too fast, but it didn’t matter because there was no one here.

Then I drove the miles out to the highway, ignoring the massive, black vehicle that tailed me all the way… then stayed on my tail until I reached my house. He finally passed as I pulled into the driveway, so I flipped the bird out the window until I was sure he was out of sight.

I held it together until I stepped inside, then scrambled for the burner phone in the bottom of my bag, punching at Sam’s number with trembling fingers until the phone finally connected, and I sank to the floor.

“Bridget, what—”

“Are you still out there?” I whispered, careful not to say where, just in case.

He was quiet for a second, his instincts obviously kicking in. “Yeah,” he said cautiously.

“Get out. Now,” I whispered. “Get out and don’t go back, ever. They know. They know what I was doing, but they were too late to catch us and… we can’t risk it. None of it. He’s… he’s going to prove you’re breaking the restraining order and he’s going to put you away. And I can’t handle it. I couldn’t handle it if you got… if that… if you were—”

“Hey, hey. Just breathe. I get it. I hear you, okay?”

“But—”

“Breathe, babe. Just breathe. Where are you?”

“I’m at home,” I murmured, checking that the door was locked before I backed up against the wall, closed my eyes and sank to the floor, knees to my chest and head in one arm. “He followed me all the way and… we can’t risk it anymore. ”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay. I’ll be extra careful and make sure no one sees me. Don’t worry. I don’t have my car here.”

I breathed a little easier after that.

But only a little. Because it was time to face facts.

I wasn’t going to see my husband again until we were both sitting in a public courtroom and Jeremy was doing everything in his power to put Sam away. Because if I did, I’d end up being the reason I never got to see him free again.