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She took a deep breath, steadying herself. She had always been a practical person, taking life as it came. Panicking wouldn’t help now. “What’s our next move?”
Bridger’s mouth quirked again. “That’s my girl.”
He began rummaging in a duffel bag, pulling out a sleek handgun, wincing as he palmed it in the hand on his injured arm. “First, we shore up our defenses. Then we can focus on our next move.”
Jane nodded, allowing herself to be swept up in his energy. They had a lot of work to do. And for now, keeping busy was the best remedy for her anxiety.
18
Jane sighed,sinking into the faded armchair in Mason’s cabin. The roller-coaster was exhausting. They’d no sooner gotten a clue from the handsome magician than they were back on the run.
“Hey.” Bridger’s voice broke the silence. “Chin up, buttercup. We’ll find Pete, and when we do, I’ll get Kellen’s whereabouts out of him. Not bragging or anything, but I’m really good at what I do.”
He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Look, I get it. You’re worried about Kellen. But beating yourself up won’t bring us any closer to finding him.”
Jane bit her lip. He was right, again.
“It’s going to take the team a while to run down that lead from Romero.” Bridger stood, stretching hard. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
The corner of Jane’s mouth quirked up. “With extra sugar?”
“Obviously.”
As Bridger headed to the tiny kitchen, Jane allowed herself a small smile. However this ended, at least she didn’t have to face it alone.
While Bridger fussed over the stove, she grabbed the first aid kit out of his duffel bag. Pegs had warned her his wound would need to be re-dressed at least once a day. When he brought back their coffees, she waved him over.
“Let me see that arm.”
Bridger set down the mugs and obediently held out his bandaged bicep. Jane carefully peeled back the gauze, revealing the stitched wound beneath. It looked clean, thanks to Pegs’ handiwork, but Jane poured hydrogen peroxide over it anyway.
Bridger hissed, jerking his arm. “Ow! Take it easy, doc.”
“Don’t be a baby.” Jane pressed a fresh bandage over the injury. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve had worse.”
“Yeah, but I usually get a lollipop after.” He offered a roguish grin that faded when she didn’t smile back.
Jane secured the bandage in place, avoiding his eyes. This was her fault. If she hadn’t involved him in her mess of a life, he never would’ve taken a bullet meant for her. The man had enough scars already.
Bridger seemed to read her thoughts. He put his hand over hers. “Look at me.”
She met his gaze reluctantly.
“I chose this, okay?” His voice was firm but kind. “I knew the risks. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you safe.”
Jane’s throat tightened. What had she ever done to deserve such unflinching loyalty?
She stood abruptly, anger and fear churning inside her. “I never should have involved you in this. Any of you. It’s too dangerous.”
Bridger stood too, facing her. “Jane––”
“No.” She cut him off, emotion making her voice sharp. “You got shot, Bridger. Shot. Protecting me. Me and my stupid problems.”
She turned away, wrapping her arms around herself. She couldn’t bear to see the understanding in his eyes. The forgiveness she didn’t deserve.
“This was a mistake,” she whispered. “I’m going to get you killed.”
A warm hand touched her shoulder. Bridger turned her gently around to face him again. His expression was open, earnest.
