an armed man with only a stun gun?”
She strode to her vehicle and grabbed a backpack, then made her way to the passenger side of his car. “I learned he isn’t here to kill me.” She shrugged. “So there’s that.”
He beeped the locks. “But he shot you the other day.”
“He claims he didn’t know it was me. He also said we would do this again soon.” She hauled her door open and got in.
He did the same, quick enough to see her wince as she tried to sit all the way down. The quicker he could get her medical attention, the better. “What does that even mean?”
“I wish I knew what he still wants with me.” She leaned her head back on the headrest and shut her eyes, the backpack hugged against her front as he pulled out. “But I also don’t care. Not now that he shot Eric.”
“Special Agent Cullings is a strong guy. I’m sure he’ll pull through.”
Truth was, Aiden didn’t know that. He might just be lying to make her feel better, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Pretty quickly here, he needed to figure out how on earth he would tell Bridget that their baby hadn’t died after all.
Unless it was only a story she’d told herself to overcome the guilt of abandoning Sydney. No, he’d seen the look in her eyes when she said it to him. The grief so close to the surface, raw and painful. As though he had taken a knife and shoved it into her stomach.
So how on earth did she not know that Sydney was alive?
There was no doubt in his mind that his daughter was hers also. Not only did the timing fit, but Sydney was a miniature version of her mother. Red hair, freckles. A sassy little package full of love for everyone she met. The kind of child Bridget would’ve been if she’d been raised by a parent who’d loved her.
Even one good one would’ve been better than the two who tried to call themselves her parents.
Bridget’s mother had been beaten to death by her drifter boyfriend one night. Tucked away in the closet beforehand by her mother, Bridget had heard the whole thing. Her father had grudgingly taken Bridget back to live with him after that. Though, the way he’d treated her, maybe he shouldn’t have. She probably would’ve been better off anywhere else.
But that was hindsight talking, not the reality. To top it all off, he had to see the truth of the woman she’d become. Someone he thought was amazing.
That had nothing to do with her parents and what they’d instilled in her—except the fear he sometimes saw in her eyes. Someone had shaped her, somehow. Or she had found herself. Grown into a woman who was confident and never afraid. Even if every time he turned around, she was hurt. That didn’t mean she wanted him to save her.
Aiden had no idea what to do about any of this besides pray. Telling her about Sydney couldn’t be rushed. Not when it would probably be the most important conversation of their entire lives.
He parked at the hospital and touched her shoulder. “Bridge, wake up.”
That was the second time he’d called her that now. The name he used to call her during their short relationship.
She gasped and jerked in the seat, then swung out with her arm and slammed the blade of her palm into his outer arm.
“Hey. It’s just me.” He squeezed his arm with his other hand and tried to massage some sensation back into it. “Ouch. That’s some strength you’ve got.”
She stumbled out of the car. He rounded it and reached out to help her get steady on her feet. She took a step back against the open door and nearly fell in, but caught herself just before he could reach for her.
Aiden sighed. By the time he got both doors shut, and locked the car, she was halfway across the lot. He ran to catch up with her and spotted her the rest of the way. If she fell, he would be there. But if she wanted to walk on her own, then he would grant her the freedom to do it. Not that he had a choice.
She checked herself in, and a staff member who also spotted her on her other side walked her back to be assessed by a nurse. As she moved away from him, Bridget turned back. “You don’t need to come with