Expired Getaway (Last Chance County #7) - Lisa Phillips Page 0,113
our lives—and the lives of every client he knows about—in danger.”
“So the answer is to kill him?”
Sasha just stared at her.
“I don’t want him to expose our clients any more than you do.” Bridget could handle any threat against her. She was worried about what Clarke knew about Sasha. This had to be about more than just their clients. He had to have sensitive information. Something Sasha didn’t want getting out.
There had to be an underlying reason.
“If he lives,” Sasha pointed out, “you can never be in Sydney’s life. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder, wondering who’ll come at you next. And if Sydney will tragically be in the way when they do.”
“I can’t let you kill him.” Bridget didn’t know how to solve this problem. “Maybe Eric can—”
“Time’s up.” Sasha lifted the rifle case and strode away. Those long legs ate up the sidewalk at a rapid pace until she was practically running.
Bridget stared at her friend. She wanted to yell after her. If you kill him, you’re no better than the bad guys. Life wasn’t always black and white, but that didn’t mean Sasha could take vengeance into her own hands.
Bridget was adrift. She didn’t know how to find her place to land. Swept around by everything that had happened to her. She didn’t know where to find a safe harbor. Aiden had been that for her for the past few days, but he wasn’t here now. He’d been hurt because of her and was fighting for his life in the hospital. Their daughter could be fatherless. Bridget might never have with Aiden what she’d always wanted.
And if that happened, she would lose the one person who had always anchored her.
Bridget felt a stirring in her soul.
God needed to be that port. The One who called her home, to come and anchor her life in Him. She couldn’t be swept around by every wave and battered by all the storms that left her adrift. She would be tethered to Him.
Safe, in Him.
Bridget ran back to the office building and grabbed the first FBI Special Agent she could find. She practically shook him, she was so desperate to stop her friend from making this mistake.
“Where’s Millie Cullings?”
Thirty-Eight
Twenty-four hours later
The door to Aiden’s hospital room opened and Conroy stuck his head in. The chief started to lift his chin and say something when Sydney wriggled between his hip and the door frame and ran across the room toward him. He didn’t like the expression on her face. She looked scared.
“She’s been kind of freaked out.” Conroy opened the door far enough to walk in and then let it close against his heels. “We told her you were all right, but…”
Aiden nodded. At the same time, he held up his hand so Sydney would see he was moving and functioning, hoping she would stop tearing toward him before she jumped on his stomach.
Conroy frowned at the other person in the room. “Is that who I think it is?”
Aiden ignored the question. Sydney hadn’t yet noticed the blonde woman sitting upright in a chair on the other side of his bed with her head dipped. Fast asleep. She’d been like that ever since he’d woken up a while ago. Long enough he was considering having a nurse take a look at her. Bridget was injured and exhausted, and he could admit he was worried about her.
Plus, he wanted to hear what had happened since he was put in the back of that ambulance.
“Whoa, Syd.” He held out one hand for her and used the other to protect his stomach just in case. “Climb up but do it carefully, and don’t lean on my stomach, okay?”
She scrambled up the side of the bed, her lip quivering. Tears filling her eyes.
“Hey.” Aiden didn’t like the word “crooned” but that was what he was doing. “Hey.”
She burrowed into his shoulder and stuck her face in his neck.
“I’m okay,” he murmured.
Her little body bucked.
“You good?” Conroy asked from the door.
Aiden nodded. After the chief shut the door, he held onto Sydney for a while. His stomach hurt, but in an abstract kind of way where he felt kind of disconnected. Floating on whatever medicine they’d given him. Later he would have to deal with the reality of the pain. Right now, he was content to be able to ignore it. The alternative was the sheer agony of the fact he’d been stabbed in the stomach.