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“Maybe the FBI’s deal isn’t to his liking anymore,” Bridger guessed. “They might have agreed not to prosecute him, but they’d never let him keep the money.”
Jane paced to the window, arms wrapped around herself. “Knowing Pete, he’d want it all: freedom, and the cash. Consequences aren’t really his thing.”
Pegs tossed the bloodied gauze in the trash and washed her hands. “I’ll leave you two to puzzle out this guy’s motives. I’m going to head into town for supplies.”
Bridger stood, testing his arm. The pain had dulled to a steady throb. No problem.
The front door closed, leaving Bridger alone with Jane for the first time since they landed on Pegs’ doorstep. He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, some way to voice what stirred in his heart. But she continued staring out at the brightening view, seeming lost in her own world.
Bridger sighed and joined her at the window. Together they watched the fog retreat out to sea, shoulders almost touching, while the weight of uncertainty hung heavy in the air.
He shifted his weight, wincing as pain shot through his torn bicep. He clenched his jaw, hating this forced inaction.
“How’s the arm?” Jane asked, glancing his way.
“I’ll live.”
She studied him for a moment. “I know you want to be out there going after Pete and the FBI guys. But it won’t help anyone if you reinjure yourself.”
Bridger grunted in reply. She was right, of course. Didn’t make it easier to accept though.
Jane turned back to the window. “What’s the plan for the airstrip? The team’s still going to follow up on the clue Jason left, right?”
“Today. Mason and the others will check it out. He’ll set up a video feed so we can monitor remotely.”
“When will they go?”
“Couple hours. They’ll helicopter in. It won’t take ten or fifteen minutes to get there. They’ll still have hours of daylight left to conduct a search.”
Jane nodded slowly. “Do you really think Pete’s involved with those FBI agents?”
Bridger chose his words carefully. “Could be as simple as he got wind of their investigation and went on the run. The only thing we know for sure is those four agents want him badly enough to shake you up to get him. That tells me Pete either led them to you on accident?—”
“Or on purpose.” She threaded her hands together. “He’s the most selfish person I know, but I can’t believe he’d do something like this.” Her voice wavered.
He could. Wisely, he kept his mouth shut. Jane was obviously well aware of her ex’s shoddy morals. No point in rubbing her face in it.
What he wanted to do was make her feel better. He ached to pull her into his arms. But he held back, unsure if she’d accept his comfort.
Jane turned to him then, eyes glistening. Bridger’s breath caught at her vulnerability. Slowly, giving her time to pull away, he reached for her hand. Her fingers curled around his, warm and soft. They stood like that as fog evaporated into the horizon, allowing the late morning sun to bathe the scene in golden light.
He leaned into the peaceful feeling, his heart lifting.
Until Jane pulled her hand away. “I wish you’d explain about the Consortium. Or at least tell me why you can’t talk about it.”
Pegs had warned him this would happen. But his refusal wasn’t just about preserving his standing in Jane’s eyes. Until he got her out of this situation with her ex, he needed her to trust him. Finding out what he––and Jason and their teammates––had done during their time as Black Out Squadron could send her running for the hills.
The Consortium might have been running their team from behind the scenes, but he and his friends still carried out the dirty work. They’d believed it was at the government’s direction, sure. Sometimes he even came close to believing it wasn’t their fault that they didn’t know that the Consortium was using them as their personal mercenaries.
Either way, Jane would be sickened. Any rational person would. He couldn’t bring himself to face her disgust. And he had no right to change her opinion of her brother.
“It’s Jason’s story to tell,” he insisted again.
“What if he can’t?” She looked ready to cry now. “What if he never…”
He squeezed her shoulder. “He’s coming back. Look at me.” He waited until she faced him. “We’ll find him. You have my word. Okay?”
She smiled, a small, wobbly expression, but he’d take it.
