Page 57

~ brIDGET ~

I tried to leave twice, but they kept telling me there was just one more thing. Yet, they left me sitting in that room alone and I was going nuts. Texting with Sam, celebrating, making plans. He was stuck with his lawyers too, but I needed to get out of there. I needed to move. I needed to be with him!

After almost an hour, I stopped taking their excuses and stormed out of the interview room just as one of the clones was striding up the hall.

“I don’t care what bullshit you need me to do, it’s going to have to be tomorrow, I’m leaving. No one can—”

“I was coming to take you out to the car. I’ve got the orders. I’ll take you out and I’ll drive you home,” he said flatly.

I frowned, staring at him.

He stared back.

“What’s your name?” I asked him.

“Matt.”

“Well, Matt, is this a trick?”

“No. I just got yanked away from my desk and told to take you out to the car and drive you home.”

“And you’re pissed about it?” Something was up, my instincts were prickling. But what the fuck could they do to me now ?

“Yeah, I’m pissed. Do you want to play babysitter in the middle of your work day?”

Well, either he was a very good actor, or he didn’t have a clue. “Fine.”

I followed him down the hall to the elevator which took us down, down, down to the underground parking that was only for real Agents—like Jeremy and his clones. Jeremy even parked the Batmobile outside most of the time. This place was for the vehicles they didn’t want people to see.

What the fuck were we doing down here?

I stared at the clone, but he was on his phone. He lifted his head when the elevator stopped, and when the doors began to slide back, he motioned me to go first.

I was so busy watching him that it took me a second to notice the tall form slouched against the wall in the little alcove next to the elevator.

Jeremy.

I tensed and shook my head. “Oh, no. You don’t get to pull this shit now!”

“I’m not pulling any shit, Bridget. Matt’s still going to drive you home. But he’ll wait in the car until you join him,” Jeremy said, his voice flat and dark, eyes locked on the clone over my shoulder.

The kid sighed, but his footsteps clipped along the cement, ringing and echoing through the empty floor.

I folded my arms and faced Jeremy who was still watching him walk away.

He pushed off the wall and I backed up quickly.

Jeremy’s face pinched. “Fuck, Bridget. I’m not going to touch you. I just… I needed to talk to you. I didn’t want it to be like this, but I have to disappear for a while until things die down. And I didn’t want to leave this hanging.”

“Leave what hanging?” I asked suspiciously.

Jeremy’s lips pursed and he clawed a hand through his hair.

“I’ve been chewing on this for three days,” he said darkly, eyes still watching over my shoulders like he was afraid someone would jump out of the shadows behind me. “Trying to figure out where it all went sideways and I’m still not sure I know. I was doing what I always do, Bridge. I thought I was helping. And I thought… I thought he was hurting you,” he said ti ghtly. “I thought I was protecting you from yourself. From him. I thought I could help you see… well, anyway. It’s apparent I was wrong. I was wrong to step in and I was wrong to bait him and… I hope to hell I was wrong about him. Because he’s fucking loose now.”

“You were,” I muttered.

Jeremy’s jaw flexed. “He really makes you happy, huh?”

That made me squirm. “It’s more than happy. He makes me feel like life’s worth living.”

“The one thing I could never do.”

Oh, ugh. “Jeremy—”

“Don’t.” He bit the word off like it tasted bad. “We both know that night was a mistake. I’m not denying that. I just got… tangled up, I guess.”

I folded my arms again. Remembering those dark days always made me feel like the earth might fall out from under my feet. I cleared my throat. “You stopped listening.”

Jeremy grimaced. “See, this is where it’s hard for me. I know what you mean. And if I knew that fucker was a good man, like if I really knew that, I’d agree with you. I’d say I overstepped. But I didn’t think he was, Bridge. And I’m still not sure. Everyone seems so ready to say he’s a changed man to soothe their own consciences about not putting him away, but the kind of guy you’re talking about? Those men are fucking unicorns.”

“Then I found the unicorn. You still should have listened.”

He looked away, but he nodded. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“For what?” I didn’t ask it nicely. Jeremy had given me all kinds of training and advice over the years, first as a teenager when there was a risk I’d get taken, then as an adult when I was effectively working undercover. He’d warned me about the signs of a manipulator—and one of those was empty promises and apologies. Statements void of self-reflection. Blanket statements designed to soothe emotions, instead of taking accountability.

Jeremy looked at me, jaw tight, fear in his eyes. I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

“Sorry for what, Jeremy?”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you,” he said in a voice so small I almost missed it under the sounds of traffic passing on the street above us. “I’m sorry I didn’t admit how I felt. I’m sorry I let it affect my decisions. I’m sorry… I’m sorry I provoked him. And I want you to know, I’m not going to press charges.”

“So big of you,” I drawled.

His lips press flat. “I’m trying here, Bridget.”

“Good. Keep doing that. I just hope this is real humility, not remorse because you got caught.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, Bridge.”

“You kind of were, though, Jer.”

He shook his head and turned away, hands clenching to fists at his sides. “I was trying to help. You don’t have to believe me. I’m not saying I got it right. I’m saying… I did the wrong thing for the right reason.”

“Oh, I believe you. That’s why I asked them not to give it to the press. I don’t know if it’ll leak or not, but if it does, it’s not from me. Because I was there. And if you… I mean, if there were feelings and you still never touched me or pressured me, that’s… that makes you a unicorn.”

He turned back and locked eyes with me, his gaze intense. He inched closer, dropping his voice. “Was there ever… with you and me, was there ever a time when you—”

“No.”

He stopped moving, jaw tight, and nodded again. “Well… None of this was ever about promotions and press releases for me, Bridge. For real.”

God, that made me squirmy again. He was waiting for me to say something, to react. And I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to know this. But I supposed his honesty was better than that self-righteous bullshit.

I sighed. “Can you do me a favor?”

“I mean, if it’s legal. I’m under caution so I have to step carefully. But sure.”

I took one step closer and dropped my voice just in case the close was listening somehow.

“Next time you feel something, tell the person. Even if it hurts. Even if they reject you. Don’t put this bullshit mask on and make it about being right. Just be you. Because I know there’s good stuff buried in your chest. But you have some fucked up ways of showing it, Jer. Get some damn therapy. Please. ” I gave him a pointed look. “I know a guy.”

Jeremy huffed. “Cute.”

“No, it’s real. I don’t want to hate you. I never have. But this… you almost took everything from me because you wouldn’t fucking listen. Because you’re so damn jaded and cynical, you didn’t even let yourself consider that he might be different—even after I told you he was.”

Those muscles in his jaw flexed again. “From the outside looking in, he looks like every other psychotic, misogynistic predator that we ever put inside.”

I didn’t waver. “But that’s the problem. You stopped seeing people and started seeing an issue to solve. That’s why I’m telling you—and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but fucking Gerald was right: Say it. Put yourself in a place to get hurt. Maybe it works out, maybe it doesn’t. But if Sam’s shown me anything it’s that when you’re losing your shit, if you get honest, that’s the chance for something beautiful to happen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered. But he didn’t look angry. Just tired. And sad. And a little unsure of himself, which was very not Jeremy.

I didn’t know what to say, and apparently neither did he because we both stood there for too long in awkward silence.

Then I sighed again. “I have to go.”

He nodded. “Yeah, me too. Finally getting that vacation.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

“Don’t have a lot of choice. In about an hour they’re going to get the papers signed by a judge so I’m not allowed to be within a hundred feet of you or Sam for the next six months and I’m guessing he’d take a lot of pleasure in putting himself in a situation that could me put in jail, so…”

I blinked. “They put a restraining order on you?”

He shrugged. “It’s paperwork—so if an accusation of cover up comes out they can say they’re dealing with it. And it’s leverage—they want to keep a tight leash on me. But it’s real. So… yeah.”

“God, that’s ironic.”

He shrugged again, but I saw the way he wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. “That’s why I needed to talk to you now. I won’t be seeing you for a while. You can tell Sam that,” he said sullenly.

“But, Jeremy, that’s the difference between you and him: When I tell him that, he won’t try to trap you. He’ll do everything he can to stay out of your way. Because even when he’s mad, he’s fucking kind.”

“You’ll forgive me if that’s a theory I don’t want to test.”

“You don’t have to test anything. Just listen: It’s true. He’s a good guy. So much better than me. And now I need to go, because I need to see him and start putting all this bullshit behind us.”

Jeremy looked down, nodding. “Okay. Well, thanks for giving me a chance to say my piece.” He turned away, but I called him back.

“You’re welcome. And Jer?”

“Yeah?”

He faced me again, and I couldn’t fucking resist.

I stepped right up to his toes and put my hands on his shoulders. It was obviously the last thing he expected, because that facade of indifference dissolved. He stared at me, wide-eyed.

Then I whispered, “Sam is kind. Much kinder than you. Or me. He doesn’t think revenge is healthy.” I held his gaze, then smiled. “I’m not so convinced.” Then I yanked him down at the same moment I drew my knee sharply up, right into his balls. Jeremy made a strangled noise and dropped like a stone, grabbing his crotch with both hands and groaning not in the fun way.

“Thanks for the memories, fuckface. Now, please get therapy.”

He was on the sticky, stained cement, rolling around in his fancy suit. “That’s not fucking funny, Bridget!” he croaked.

“I disagree.”

Then I walked off to the car, grinning. And feeling happier than I had since the last time I saw Sam.