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“Meaning?” Jason’s tone held a hefty heaping of concern.
Bridger gave him a shortened version of Pete’s actions, concentrating more on Jane and Kellen, and skipping over the whole IED fiasco. Some things were better relayed in person. Jay-man was swimming with sharks. Alone. Anything that pulled at his attention could be disastrous.
“They’re both doing really well, considering,” Bridger finished. “Jane’s super excited to have Kellen back in her life, permanently, this time. The official paperwork’s going to take months, but with Pete gone, and no resistance from the bio mom’s family, the adoption’ll go smoothly.”
“Outstanding! Jane’s been torn up since that jerk disappeared with Kellen.”
Bridger frowned. He knew his friend well enough to detect the lack of sympathy in his tone. “Sorry to hear about Pete though, right?” he probed.
Jason made a noncommittal sound. “I mean, it’s rough for the kid to lose his dad. But Pete made his choices.”
Bridger bit back a retort, reminded again of the darkness his friend carried. Their black ops work had only honed Jason’s natural pragmatism when it came to death. Still, Bridger wished his friend could see the situation with more compassion.
“The important thing is that Kellen has Jane now,” Bridger said.
“Yeah,” Jason agreed quietly. “He’s a great kid.” He cleared his throat again. “Take care of them, okay?”
The wistful note in his friend’s voice hit him straight in the heart. “I will, brother. And we’ll take care of you too, soon as you get back here.”
Jason made a noncommittal noise again. They both knew it wouldn’t be that simple. But Bridger meant what he said. However long it took, he’d make sure Jason found his way home.
Bridger wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “We’re here for you, you know. Whatever you need—intel, backup, an exit strategy—the team can provide it. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Jason sighed. “I appreciate it, dude. But this is my fight. I started it, I’ve gotta finish it.”
“You’re not Superman,” Bridger argued. “You’re Batman. You have a team for a reason.”
Before Jason could retort, the porch door banged open. Mason sauntered out, catching Bridger’s eye. “Pizza’s ready,” he called over.
Bridger held up a finger, mouthing “Jason” at his teammate. Mason tilted his head, curiosity piqued. He ambled over within earshot of Bridger’s phone.
“At least let us help with surveillance or logistics,” Bridger pleaded. “You taught us this brotherhood stuff, now let us live it.”
Jason huffed a faint laugh. “You always were an idealist.” His tone softened. “Take care of Jane. And don’t let Ortiz touch my Mustang. He scratches the paint, I’ll break his fat fingers.”
The line went dead.
Beside him, Mason looked affronted. He spread his hands. “I don’t have fat fingers.”
Bridger clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s go eat. And ignore that thing about the P-51. Guy needs our help whether he admits it or not.”
Bridger followed Mason back inside, the aroma of hot pizza enveloping them as soon as they stepped through the door.
“There you guys are!” Jane said, carrying a stack of paper plates into the dining room. “Come on, food’s getting cold.”
Bridger’s gaze lingered on her smiling face. She was so beautiful. Strong, caring, whip-smart. Way too good for the likes of him.
Yet when she met his eyes, her smile seemed to widen just a fraction. Like she was happy to see him. Hope flickered in his chest.
“C’mon, slowpokes, before I eat all the meat-lovers!” Fenn called out around a mouthful of pizza. The lanky intelligence officer was sprawled in a chair at the head of the table, plate heaped high.
Bridger rolled his eyes and grabbed a slice, settling into the seat beside Jane. Their arms brushed. The contact seemed to vibrate through him.
As the others bantered and laughed, Bridger let his mind wander. He pictured quiet mornings on the porch swing, Jane tucked against his side. Long days working at the store, or working cases with the team. Weekend ballgames, watching Kellen playing soccer, baseball, or whatever sport he liked. Nights curled up on the couch, just the three of them. A family.
The fantasy caught him off guard. Since their forced retirement, he hadn’t let himself dream of the future. But now, with Jane’s arm pressed to his, her laughter in his ears, knowing she accepted him, dark past and all, the vision didn’t seem so impossible.
Bridger tuned back into the conversation and found Jane watching him, a curious look on her face. “You okay?” she asked. “You zoned out for a minute there.”
