10. Bridget
Bridget
Cole had left for the airport about an hour ago, and as soon as the door shut behind him, I realized that if I didn’t keep busy, I was going to have a panic attack over staying in this house alone overnight.
“He’ll be back tomorrow,” I reminded myself as I glided a duster over every already pristine surface in the house.
Deciding that maybe some music would help mellow me out, I pulled up the ad-free app Cole had downloaded on my new-to-me smartphone. Turning up the volume as high as it would go, I sang along to classic rock hits while I worked.
I’d moved into a bathroom, using a hairbrush as a microphone when the song abruptly cut off.
My heart jumped into my throat, and I spun around, half-expecting to find Aiden standing mere feet away, having been the one who pressed pause on the track. Thankfully, the only other person in sight was my reflection in the mirror, and my knees buckled in relief.
Instead of playing music, the mobile device was buzzing against the marble countertop.
Cautiously, I moved close enough to see that the disruption to my mini dance party was due to an incoming call.
But the name on the Caller ID was unfamiliar—Arizona.
Since this had been someone else’s phone before it became mine, I assumed the number had been recycled as well and that the caller was attempting to reach the previous owner.
Still, that didn’t keep my hand from shaking as I slid my finger across the screen to answer. “Hello? I think you have—”
A cheery voice cut me off, “Hi! Is this Bridget?”
“Uh, yeah. Who is this?”
“Arizona Cleary,” she replied. “I’m married to one of Cole’s teammates. The one who stopped by yesterday. I hope it’s okay that he gave me your number.”
I leaned against the sink. “I guess so.” Honestly, I wished he’d asked me first. The fewer people who knew my location, the better.
“So . . . this is a little awkward, but I’m standing outside your front door. Figured I’d give you a call and introduce myself first, rather than ring the doorbell, so as not to scare you.”
Clearly, Cole had shared more with the woman than just my phone number—something we would need to have a serious talk about when he returned.
I glanced down at my bare thighs peeking out from beneath the hem of one of Cole’s shirts. “Um, I’m not really dressed for company.”
“Actually, that’s why I’m here.” I could hear the smile in Arizona’s voice.
“It is?” Confusion leaked into my tone.
“I can just leave the bags on the porch if you’d like.”
That offer tipped the scales. She might be a stranger, but she was making a concerted effort to put me at ease.
And truth be told, I could really use a friend.
“Give me a sec, and I’ll be right down.” I ended the call, making my way down the stairs.
Pulling the door open revealed a pretty brunette dressed in professional attire.
A kind smile stretched across her face as she pushed her sunglasses up so that they rested atop her head. “Nice to finally meet you in person,” she teased.
“Please come in.” I stepped back to grant her entry.
Paranoid out of my mind, I scanned the quiet suburban street for anything that might seem off before shutting the door and turning to my guest.
Arizona set down the bags she carried, dusting her hands off on her wide-leg trousers. “First, I’d like to apologize on behalf of my husband. Levi feels terrible that he and Maisie burst in here yesterday and frightened you.”
Guilt over that situation swirled in my gut. “I shouldn’t have overreacted.”
Her eyes tracked from the bandages on my face to the bruises around my neck. “I think you had every right to be on high alert.”
I wondered if there would ever come a time when I wouldn’t fear for my life at every unexpected noise. I sure hoped so but doubted it. The damage from years spent with Aiden went deeper than the marks he’d left on my skin—I would forever bear invisible scars from his mental and physical abuse.
My bare feet scuffed against the hardwood flooring as I hung my head.
Sensing my discomfort, Arizona breezed on.
“When I spoke to Cole and asked if there was anything you might need while the team was away, he said there was plenty of food in the fridge, but that you were waiting on a clothing order.” She gestured to the bags she’d brought.
“Figured these could help tide you over.”
I fucking hated being a charity case. Even worse, I hated that I’d put myself in this position.
Aiden was a walking red flag, and I should have seen him coming a mile away.
First, when he love-bombed me. Then, when he isolated me from my friends and colleagues.
And finally, when he convinced me to quit my job and move in with him.
But it had felt so damn nice to have someone borderline obsessed with me that I excused his problematic behavior.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Bridget?” Arizona prompted, bringing me back to the present.
“Sorry.” I shook my head, as if that would be enough to erase the bad memories permanently imprinted on my brain. “You really shouldn’t have. I’m not planning to leave the house.” Correction: I couldn’t leave the house, not if I didn’t want Aiden to find me.
“Oh, it’s no trouble,” she insisted. “My sponsor volunteers at a women’s shelter, and they have extra clothing on hand for their residents.
When I explained to her that I knew someone who’d gotten out of a bad situation with absolutely nothing, she was more than happy to let me raid their wardrobe reserves. ”
How could I refuse when, if circumstances were different, I might’ve sought refuge in a shelter like the one she described?
“That was really nice of you. And her.”
“It’s not any more than someone once did for me. So, I’m just doing what I can to pay it forward.”
My ears perked up at that. Was this perfectly put-together woman saying that she’d been in my shoes? If so, maybe there was hope that I could make it out on the other side and reclaim my life.
Suddenly, I saw Arizona through new eyes, and she became my source of inspiration.
“Thank you. Truly.”
She peeked down at the watch affixed to her left wrist. “I’ve got a showing in half an hour, so I’d better get going, but you have my number. Call if you need anything at all. Even if you just need someone to talk to.”
I’d been deprived of human connection for so long that the simple offer of companionship brought tears to my eyes.
Sniffling, I managed a weak nod, and she gave my hand a gentle squeeze on her way out the door.
For the first time, I saw the first glimmers of light at the end of the tunnel. If only I could find a way to race there faster.
The minute the sun went down, my anxiety shot through the roof.
Every shadow or brush of a palm tree against the side of the house made me jump out of my skin, and before long, I was curled up in the fetal position under the covers in bed, shaking so badly that my muscles ached.
The Surf had traveled to San Francisco for a single away game. If I couldn’t handle one night alone without teetering on the verge of a panic attack, I was doomed when they had longer stretches on the road.
With my cell phone held tightly to my chest above where my heart hammered against my ribcage, I desperately wanted to call Cole, to hear his deep voice reassure me that I was safe.
But I knew if I did, he would feel guilty for leaving me, and that was the last thing I wanted.
Showing up unannounced and begging him to take me in had disrupted his life enough.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if dragging him into my mess made him distracted on the ice, leading to an injury or worse.
So, instead, I pressed dial on one of the other two numbers saved in my contacts.
I placed it on speaker, and it rang twice before the line connected and a now-familiar voice spoke. “Bridget, hey!”
Her bright and happy greeting sounded distant with the roar of blood in my ears.
When I opened my mouth to respond, only a strangled squeak came out.
Arizona immediately picked up on my distress. “Are you okay?”
I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “No,” I croaked, barely audible.
“I’m coming to get you, and I’m going to stay on the phone with you the whole time so you’re not alone.”
The woman might as well be my personal savior. She knew what I needed, knew how to make me feel safe, without me having to ask.
Growing up, I’d been part of the hockey community by virtue of being Bennett’s little sister. And damn if I wasn’t grateful that finding myself under Cole’s roof meant I was once again reaping the benefits of a group of teammates—and their families—who looked out for each other, no matter what.
It felt like coming home.
Upon her arrival, Arizona made me pack a bag, declaring that I would be spending the night in one of the guestrooms at her house.
Then, with the hood of the same black sweatshirt I’d made my escape in only forty-eight hours earlier pulled over my head, we drove through the city to a gated neighborhood filled with stunning mansions before pulling into the garage of one that sat on the oceanfront.
She led me through the mudroom, instructing me where to take off my shoes, the hallway spitting us out into a large family room, where two teenagers were sprawled out on the couches watching television.
One of them was the girl who’d come to Cole’s house yesterday; the other was a boy with glasses who appeared to be the older of the pair.
“Maisie, Austin, we have company,” Arizona announced.
Both heads swung in our direction, and the girl—Maisie—jumped up, her face alight with excitement. “Hi! Do you remember me from the other day at Uncle Cole’s house?”
I gave a jerky nod, the memory of our initial meeting sending heat up my neck that settled on my cheeks.
The other teen wasn’t nearly as peppy, jerking his chin upward in a nonverbal acknowledgment of my presence before returning his attention to the movie playing on screen.
Arizona lifted my overnight bag. “Let me show you the guest room, and when we come back down, I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Oh, no, you’ve already gone to enough trouble—”
“I get it. Accepting help is hard, but know that I’m offering it freely from a place of compassion.”
How the hell could I argue with that?
I trailed her up the stairs. “Okay. Thank you.”
My head was on a swivel as we moved through the luxurious home.
“Your house is beautiful,” I remarked, unable to contain my awe.
Arizona hummed. “Never imagined when I sold Levi this house I’d be living in it myself.”
Trying to work that out in my brain had my steps slowing enough that the woman walking ahead of me paused to peek back.
Sensing my confusion, she explained, “It’s a long story how we ended up here, but I started out as his realtor. Funnily enough, it was Cole who recommended me after I helped him buy his current house.”
Huh. Interesting.
“How long have you two been married?” I figured the least I could do was show an interest in her life after she’d been gracious enough to let me crash at her place during the Surf’s road trip.
“A little over seven months. Levi only got traded to the Surf nine months ago.”
My eyes widened. Must’ve been one hell of a whirlwind romance for them to end up married within mere months.
I followed her into the guest room, where she set my bag down on a queen-sized bed.
Curiosity had me asking, “Which one of you brought the kids to your marriage?”
“Maisie is Levi’s.” Arizona dropped onto the mattress, a heavy exhale rushing past her lips. “And Austin is . . . Technically, he’s mine.”
“Technically?” I repeated, not quite understanding.
Her lips twisted into a sad smile. “My past isn’t the greatest. I wasn’t in any shape to raise a baby when Austin was born, so my mom took custody of him.
For the first fourteen years of his life, he believed her to be his mother and me his sister.
It was only recently that he learned the truth, but our dynamic hasn’t really changed, so don’t be surprised if you hear him call me by my first name. ”
“But he lives here, with you?”
“Mmm.” She nodded. “My mom’s got early-onset Alzheimer’s and has been in a memory care facility for the past few years. It’s been rough watching her disease progress and knowing there’s nothing we can do to stop it.”
“I’m sorry.” I dropped down beside her. “But I get it. My mom’s under heavy sedation in a mental health facility.”
Arizona sucked in a hissing breath. “Shit.”
“Yeah. She didn’t handle my brother’s death well. I mean, none of us did, but she took it the hardest.”
“Grief is a real bitch,” she agreed.
“You can say that again.”
Her hand came down on my knee. “All right, enough moping. Let’s get you fed before Maisie gets into sleepover mode and wants to give you a manicure.”
That sounded so damn normal that I wanted to cry.