29. Cole
Cole
Since it was the weekend, Bridget wouldn’t be able to meet with the lawyer who would handle preparing the documents and the filing of the restraining order until Monday.
Best case scenario, it would only be a few more weeks, and this whole nightmare would be behind us, effectively closing the door on the chapter of her life containing her asshole ex for good.
In the meantime, we’d been roped into the Cleary-Nixons’ preparations for their first Christmas season as a blended family.
“Do you think they’d like sugar cookies or gingerbread better?” Bridget called out from deep within the pantry as she gathered ingredients to take with us for what promised to be a marathon holiday baking session.
“Don’t overthink it. They’re kids; they’re easy to please.”
She poked her head out to flash me an eyeroll, correcting, “They’re teenagers; they’re impossible to impress.”
Austin, maybe, but Maisie adored her, and I could already picture the thirteen-year-old glued to Bridget’s side all afternoon.
Tapping her foot impatiently, she huffed, “Still waiting for an answer.”
“Why choose? Make both.”
“Huh.” Bridget’s expression turned contemplative. “That’s actually not a half-bad idea.”
I crossed the kitchen to place a featherlight kiss to the tip of her nose. “More cookies is always a great idea.”
She spun around, grabbing what she needed, and soon, the basket was overflowing. Gesturing toward it, she asked, “Can you take this to the car? I’m gonna run upstairs and change real quick.”
“Sure thing, beautiful.”
“This is going to be so much fun!” Her voice grew distant as she left the kitchen.
While she was busy baking with the kids, I would be having the time of my life, sitting back and watching her become more vibrant by the day.
That would be the greatest gift I ever received.
“Maisie’s easy because she loves to read, and her Tbr is a mile long. I can make her a book bouquet to die for with some color-coded annotation supplies.”
Bridget had been rambling on about present ideas since we got in the car. She was so animated about it that it brought a smile to my lips.
“What about Austin?” I prompted.
She heaved a sigh. “Austin’s harder to buy for. He’s ‘too cool’ for a lot of things.”
“He’s not too cool for hockey.”
Lips twisted to the side, she considered it. “That feels a little too on the nose, don’t you think? What else does he like?”
“Did I ever tell you that Austin and Levi met randomly while surfing? Levi didn’t know he was related to Arizona until after they spent an entire day together, catching waves.”
“Oh!” Bridget sat up straight in the passenger’s seat. “What about a skimboard? Something he can use to practice his skills in shallow water.”
Hitting the brakes, we came to a halt at a stoplight.
Our hands were linked over the center console, and I brought them to my lips, dusting a kiss over her knuckles. “I think that’s a great idea.”
A giant smile lit up her beautiful face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed with a nod.
The light turned green, and I shifted my foot to press on the accelerator. Head still turned in Bridget’s direction, I said, “What do you have in mind for Crew?”
In an instant, her eyes grew wide in horror, and she shouted, “Cole! Watch out!”
I whipped my head around just in time to catch a glimpse of the SUV barreling through the intersection. It all happened too fast; there wasn’t time to react before it slammed at full speed into the driver’s side of my car in a sickening crunch of metal and shattering glass.
The impact was so violent that we spun out, the world a blur, as Bridget’s terrified screams echoed in my ears.
My stomach lurched, reminiscent of all the times I’d gotten sick on carnival rides.
Before I could make a mess of the cabin, we came to an abrupt halt, my head cracking against something unforgivingly hard.
Then the world went dark.
Consciousness crept in slowly, and with it came agony in several forms.
There was a piercing pain in my skull, like someone was stabbing at it with an ice pick. Every inhale felt like razor blades shredding the lining of my lungs. And there were sharp bolts of lightning radiating down my left arm.
Groaning, I went to lift my right hand to cradle my aching head, only to be halted after about three or four inches by something sharp biting into my wrist. When I tried again—harder this time—I didn’t make any more progress than before, and there was a metallic rattling noise.
What the hell?
As weak as I was, it took effort to lift my heavy eyelids. When I finally got them cracked open, my vision swam, a wave of dizziness washing over me, so I let them fall shut again.
“You’re awake,” a vaguely familiar male voice rumbled from somewhere nearby.
My brain hurt trying to place where I knew it from.
“Who’s there?” Throat dry, I could barely get the croaked words out.
“I’m disappointed you don’t remember me,” the man said. “Because I’ll never be able to forget the man who decided to make my wife his whore.”
I gasped, and my eyes sprang open. There, in the corner of what I could only assume was a hospital room, sat the motherfucker who’d not only put his hands on Bridget, but he’d left marks.
Fuck, Bridget.
“Where is she?” I seethed.
Aiden picked at an imaginary piece of lint on his police uniform. “That’s really none of your concern.”
“The hell it’s not!” The attempt at a roar sent a searing flash of fire along my esophagus, and I began to cough violently.
I went to sit up and realized I couldn’t. A peek down revealed why. My left arm was immobilized in plaster from my wrist to mid-bicep, bent at the elbow. And my right . . . Well, that was shackled to the gurney with a pair of gleaming silver handcuffs.
“Like your new jewelry?” he taunted, smug.
I pulled at my cuffed arm hard enough that the metal broke the skin and a line of blood trickled down my forearm. “If there’s anyone who should be in handcuffs, it’s you,” I spat.
“That’s not how me or my colleague see it.” An evil smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Are you saying they’ll turn a blind eye to a guy who beats his girlfriend”—I put emphasis on that word so he’d know he was full of shit about Bridget being his wife—“and put an innocent man behind bars because he’s the one who knows how to cherish and protect her?
” I scoffed. “Is the department that corrupt?”
“It has nothing to do with corruption, and everything to do with you touching something that belonged to me.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to announce that if we were going by that logic, she was rightfully mine, since I was the one who took her virginity. But I was smart enough not to poke the bear.
“All right,” I said calmly. “What am I being charged with, then?”
With an evil gleam in his eyes, he replied, “Kidnapping.”
I barked out a laugh. “Kidnapping? Good luck getting Bridget to corroborate that story.”
“She’ll do whatever the fuck I tell her if she knows what’s good for her,” Aiden growled.
“Sure. Sounds like a great plan,” I remarked. “When all she has to do is open her mouth on the witness stand to blow your whole story to smithereens and get rid of you permanently.”
He pursed his lips. “You know what? You’re right.” Face transforming, a mask of concern fell into place, with a voice to match. “Bridget will be much too distressed by this harrowing experience to provide testimony. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t prioritize her mental health?”
Damn, I had to admit he was convincing. Too bad I already knew he was a manipulative bastard.
He approached my bedside, portraying an air of authority, as he said, “Cole Astor, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Bridget Russell.”
Then he began reading me my Miranda Rights.
“You have the right to remain silent.”
A fist hit me square in the jaw, the metallic tang of blood bursting across my tongue.
“Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
Next came a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of me, leaving me gasping.
“You have the right to an attorney.”
I was unable to defend myself when the final punch landed between my thighs. Curling onto my side in the fetal position, I heaved uncontrollably as nausea overwhelmed me.
“If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read?”
“Fuck you,” I wheezed.
Aiden chuckled. “Good enough.”
The door opened and shut, signaling his departure, and leaving me more scared for Bridget’s safety than I’d ever been in my entire life.