she would balk at the suggestion. Still, it was clear she could use a friend. Maybe more. She’d been alone for so long, like him, that melding their lives wouldn’t be easy.
But it could be worth it.
“Rolling my eyes hurts. Blinking my eyes hurts. Anything other than darkness hurts.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
“They gave me meds, but I don’t like that foggy feeling. You know? I need to be able to focus, and I need to think critically. Otherwise?” She shrugged one shoulder.
“Getting caught off guard is never good.”
“How about you?”
She didn’t seem to feel guarded with him. Not that she was particularly open, but there didn’t appear to be a grudge over the fact he’d yelled at her and she’d run off. “The bullet didn’t crack anything, but it hurts anyway.” He touched the back of her hand. “I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“But you don’t think it was wrong.”
“No, not necessarily. But, it is wrong if the delivery causes you hurt. The kindest truth shouted at someone, or spewed with a hateful tone, isn’t kind anymore. It’s just spiteful and mean.”
“Thank you for apologizing. I’m sorry I let my fear get the better of me. I know you do your best, and I can tell how good it is because Sydney seems…wonderful.”
“She really is.” He held onto her hand and would for as long as she’d let him do so. “Sometimes I look at her, and I still can’t believe it. It’s so amazing to have her.”
“Thank you for taking care of her.”
Aiden didn’t like the past tense of that, as though he might be done taking care of her anytime soon. “It’s been my absolute pleasure. I know you’re still scared, and to tell the truth, I am as well.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her forehead, next to the bandage on her temple. He waited while she sucked in a choppy breath. “Nothing can happen to her.”
“I know.” He gave her other hand a small squeeze and still didn’t let go.
“Was she scared you got hurt?”
“I didn’t tell her. I usually don’t, unless—God forbid—it’s bad enough I’m hospitalized. But if I get checked out and cleared to go home the same day?” He shrugged. “I don’t say anything. She’ll probably figure out I’ve got a bruise the size of Saturn on my chest the first time she hugs me too hard. But I don’t like her to have to face the dangerous reality of this job. Not yet. It was my choice to be a cop. She doesn’t need to suffer because of it. Maybe when she’s a little older, but not at six.”
Bridget stared at him with something that looked an awful lot like wonder. “She’s so beautiful.”
He leaned close. “That’s because she looks like you.”
Bridget blinked those crazy long eyelashes. She leaned in a little as well, and memory flooded back. More of the nostalgic sensations. Some meant trouble, but most made him want to smile.
Their lips were a hairsbreadth apart when the door clicked open.
“Oops.” It was a woman. Millie. “Sorry.”
Aiden froze. Bridget’s lips curled into a self-effacing smile. He kissed the smile, adoring the lightness it brought to her expression. But he didn’t linger there, despite the fact he wanted to. Aiden leaned back. “You want me to let her in?”
“I do need to talk to her. But I was also enjoying um…talking with you.”
He chuckled and felt his cheeks heat. “Yeah. Talking is good.” Then he pushed off the side of the bed. “I’ll go—”
Out in the hall, a woman screamed. Seconds later, a gun discharged.
A single shot, and then silence.
Twenty-eight
A woman screamed. Bridget’s consciousness seemed to crystalize from paralysis to decision, until she knew what to do. She pushed back the sheet and blanket and slid her feet to the floor on the side where they’d stuffed her clothes in a cupboard. Thankfully she’d remembered to ask them to tie her hospital gown at the back because otherwise this would be seriously awkward.
Another shot rang out, and a low voice yelled. Bridget couldn’t make out what was said. Aiden was at the door. She saw him reach for the handle. “Wait for me.”
“I’m just looking.”
She tore open the bag and slid her jeans up her legs while she sat on the edge of the bed, teeth gritted. Her head pounded, despite the meds they’d given her. Nothing could touch how bad it hurt. Not unless she was willing to dance with narcotics which, for her, was out of