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Gently gripping her shoulder, he said, “Hear that? We’ll be living in luxury in no time.”
Jane glanced up, eyes refocusing. She gave him a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Bridger’s chest tightened. He had to keep her spirits up. He’d seen how despair could ravage a soul.
Turning back to the screen, he asked, “Anything else we should know before we head out?”
“Once you land, you’ve got a vehicle waiting in hangar four. Tank’s full, supplies loaded. I’ll send the gate code to your phone too.” He glanced down, consulting another monitor. “Oh, looks like we’re low on espresso beans, so hope you guys don’t mind roughing it.”
Despite everything, Bridger huffed a laugh. Leave it to Mason to consider lack of espresso a hardship.
“I think we’ll survive,” he said wryly.
Bridger ended the call and tucked the phone into his pocket. Turning to Jane, he wrapped his arms around her slender frame and pulled her close.
“We’re gonna get through this,” he murmured into her hair.
Jane remained tense in his embrace. He could feel her rapid breaths against his chest. Gently, he stroked her back, hoping to soothe away some of the panic.
“There’s no evidence whatsoever that Kellen’s been hurt. The agents figured he’d make a great hostage. They want us. They won’t hurt him.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
Bridger’s jaw tightened. She was right, the situation was bad. But he couldn’t let her spiral down that mental rabbit hole.
He pulled back to look into her eyes, vibrant green pools shimmering with unshed tears. “You trust me, right?”
She searched his face, then gave a small nod.
Leaning in, he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She let out a shaky breath, some of the tension leaving her body.
They stayed like that a moment longer, drawing strength from each other. Then Bridger stepped back, expression hardening with determination. “Let’s move. Mason’s other safe house is a two-hour flight away. Not to mention the four-hour car trip. We’ve got a long road ahead of us.”
Jane nodded, though her eyes still held a glimmer of doubt. Bridger squeezed her hand reassuringly as they gathered their few belongings. He hoisted the twin duffels over his good shoulder, thankful he’d insisted they bring minimal go bags. They’d only planned to be gone a few hours, but in his world, planning for things to fall apart was just part of the deal.
He could understand her fear. Hell, his gut was churning too. But he couldn’t let it show, not when she needed him to be strong.
As they left the motel room, he scanned the parking lot, senses alert for any sign of trouble. Satisfied they weren’t being watched, he ushered Jane quickly to the nondescript sedan. After they took off, the team would figure out a way to get the vehicle back to the rental agency, preferably in another city. He’d rented it using an untraceable credit card, but the agents would be on the lookout for it. Having the rental agency report it stolen would not be ideal.
Once inside with the doors locked, Bridger let out a slow breath. Jane stared numbly out the window. Reaching over, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”
She turned towards him, eyes glistening. “What if we can’t prove I’m innocent? What if they hurt Kellen…”
Her voice broke as a tear slipped down her cheek.
Bridger’s heart ached at seeing her like this. He wiped the tear away tenderly with his thumb.
“That won’t happen,” he said, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “No one’s gonna hurt you, or Kellen.”
All they could do now was avoid capture and somehow, some way, locate Jane’s stepson. He closed his eyes.Please, Jesus, keep the boy safe until we do.
Jane searched his face. After a moment, she gave a small, brave smile and squeezed his hand back.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Bridger brushed his knuckles along her cheek. Then he started the car, determination steeling his gaze.
Failure was not an option.
