Expired Getaway (Last Chance County #7) - Lisa Phillips Page 0,81
were only between her and the Lord.
“There was a baby.”
Millie squeezed her eyes shut. “You lost a child?”
Sasha said nothing.
“And you still think removing Bridget from her life was the right choice?”
“You’ve seen her. Sydney is happy. She loves her father, and she loves her life.”
“I know you believe that. But you also have to know she needs a mother.” Millie had to try and make her see that point. “There’s a reason Aiden never found someone else.”
“He’s been waiting for Bridget to come back?” She snorted. “He thought she was dead.”
Because of you. “And yet, now things can be set right. Bridget can have what life should have given her all along. She can have everything she’s ever wanted.”
Sasha was silent.
“You have to have hope.”
“I thought it had died. It felt like that.”
Millie gripped the phone. “You believe you made the right choice before?”
Sasha answered without having to think over it. “Absolutely.”
“Then make another one now. Help me get Bridget her happy ending.”
A shuffle came over the line. Someone cried out.
A low voice that sounded like a man, moaning.
Millie frowned. “Sasha, what—”
Sasha cut her off. “What do you think I’m doing?”
Then the line went dead.
Twenty-seven
Aiden strode down the hospital hallway. He’d been here less than a day ago, getting an x-ray on the bruised spot where the bullet hit his vest. Now Millie had texted to say Bridget was here. A blow to the head, she’d said, and Clarke had escaped despite FBI pursuit as he fled from the scene.
His pace picked up.
The second he realized he was practically running toward her room, he slowed. Rushing in on instinct and full of emotion wasn’t going to endear him to her. The last time he’d seen her, she’d been consumed by her fear. Determined to push him away, telling him to take Sydney and run.
Of course, he’d reacted badly. Probably because of the searing pain still in his chest, but also partly because he didn’t know how to dampen his temper sometimes.
He understood that. Of all people, he understood the need to do whatever it took to protect the ones he loved. But not on a gut reaction. Running scared. That urge to flee was all her, and he wasn’t going to accept that for him or Sydney. Aiden just wasn’t built that way. Not only did he need to protect his daughter, but he also had to keep her mentally healthy. Freaking out only meant she’d freak out, too. It was a balance. Physical and mental safety went together as far as he was concerned—one without the other wasn’t healthy.
The door was ajar. Someone moved around inside, and he spotted a suit. A federal agent, maybe? Where one was, another would be also, so he figured there were at least two in there. Maybe Nicholson, who he’d met at the police station. Turner had been nicked, so the second agent wasn’t him.
Questioning her. Arresting her. Was she some kind of informant? They absolutely should ask her to provide information, if she was amenable to it. If Aiden wasn’t an officer but a higher rank in the police department, he would definitely discuss that with her.
Bridget had valuable information that could help two cases right now.
She could potentially save lives, as well as help capture a man on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.
The agent moved, and he got a look at Bridget through the crack between the door and the frame. He’d seen that look before, and it wasn’t good. Bridget wasn’t about to back down. And they were steadily pushing her into a corner.
Her face reddened. Her knuckles white as she clenched the blanket over her lap. If they pushed her far enough, she would erupt. Something he wouldn’t mind seeing. Every time she’d ever been angry, it had only lit more passion for her inside him. She was a force to be reckoned with, a well of deep emotion and strength he was seriously attracted to.
He was starting to get the feeling he always would be.
Aiden pushed the door open, so he didn’t have to later explain why he was eavesdropping. Neither agent turned. They were facing down the woman in the bed. Bridget noticed him but didn’t react at all. He saw a slight lift of her finger—the only way he knew she saw him.
“I assure you, I’m not joking.” Special Agent Nicholson, who’d confronted him before, determined to get him to hand over Bridget, stood by the end of the bed with her back to him.