4. Bridget
Bridget
“Do I need to remind you how important this brunch is?” Aiden didn’t take his eyes off the road as he steered us through the gates of an exclusive country club.
Twisting my hands in my lap, I shook my head. “No.”
“Well, I’m going to do it again because we can’t afford any fuckups.
” His fingers flexed on the wheel. “Captain Phillips only invites those he’s considering promoting to join him at the club.
With the recent retirement of Sergeant Cruz, there’s an opening for me to move up within the department.
We are talking about a leadership role, Bridget. ”
Knowing he loved having his ego constantly stroked, I murmured, “He’d be a fool not to offer you the job.”
Aiden grunted. “Damn straight.”
We pulled up to a valet drop-off area, and he handed his keys to the attendant. My door was pulled open, and without looking, I slid my palm against the hand extended to help me exit the vehicle. Only to realize my mistake when a loud growl sounded before a barked “Get your hands off my woman.”
The man held up two hands in surrender. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I was just offering my assistance to the lady.”
Getting right up in his face, Aiden gritted out, “You think I can’t do that myself?”
There was an audible gulp from the country club employee. “N-no. Of course not.”
The guy scurried away as fast as his feet would carry him, and then Aiden turned his murderous glare on me. There wasn’t time to open my mouth in an attempt to placate him before his firm grip locked around my wrist so tightly that I yelped.
Dragged through the doors to the club, I stumbled while trying to keep up with his brisk pace. Several people had stopped what they were doing to stare at my public humiliation.
“Aiden,” I kept my voice low. “You’re making a scene.”
He let out a scoff. “I’m making a scene? Remind me, who was it that let another man touch what is mine?”
When he got like this—jealous, possessive, aggressive—there was no point in trying to argue my innocence. It would only anger him more. My only option was to admit that I was guilty of whatever he accused me of.
I released a sigh. “It was me.”
After yanking me into an alcove hidden behind a large plant, he finally let me go. I rubbed at the abused flesh of my wrist. It wouldn’t be long before the red marks Aiden left behind turned purple.
He scanned me from head to toe, his face contorting into a look of disdain. “Can’t even blame the guy for getting handsy when you show up at this classy establishment looking like a goddamn streetwalker.”
The insult acted like a physical blow, and I reared back. “What?”
Wearing a short-sleeved maxi dress, I more closely resembled a Sunday school teacher than a prostitute.
A sound of disgust was pulled from the back of his throat. “Your tits are spilling out of the top, and the garment is so form-fitting, it leaves very little to the imagination.”
My cheeks heated, and shame flooded my system. “This is the biggest dress I own. I need a larger size.”
“No, what you need to do is go on a fucking diet.”
Vision growing blurry, I dipped my chin. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
Humorless laughter fell from Aiden’s lips. “Always with the damn waterworks. When are you going to learn your tears have no effect on me?”
If my current situation weren’t so hopeless, I might’ve laughed at the irony of him painting me as a manipulator.
A few years ago, I would have retorted that it took one to know one.
But now, my options were limited. Unless I wanted to be homeless and hungry, I had to kowtow to the man who controlled every facet of my life.
“Pull yourself together,” he hissed. “You’ve already made us late with your constant need for attention; the last thing I need is for my boss to bear witness to your dramatics.”
Reaching into my clutch, I pulled out my compact, flipping it open to view my reflection in the tiny mirror.
I looked like a fucking mess. My eyes were red and puffy. Mascara streaked down my cheeks.
Thankfully, I had a travel pack of tissues on hand and was able to wipe away the black smudges lining my skin. But there wasn’t much I could do to make it appear as though I hadn’t been crying.
I lifted my face for inspection. “Better?”
Aiden grunted. “It’ll have to do. If Phillips asks, we can say you suffer from allergies.”
He guided me from behind the alcove with a hand pressed to the small of my back.
Tucked tightly to his side, I had a front-row seat to watch as he transformed from the sadistic monster who had become the villain in my story to a charming gentleman when we reached the hostess stand set at the front of the club’s in-house restaurant.
Flashing her his pearly whites—fucker was vain as hell and had veneers—Aiden purred, “Good morning. We’re guests of Nicholas Phillips.”
The woman took a moment to do a slow perusal of him before her gaze flicked to me, and she frowned. She was probably wondering why someone as attractive and put-together as Aiden would be with a frumpy girl in ill-fitting clothes.
Girl, trust me when I say that you want no part of this man.
“Of course.” She batted her eyelashes at him. “If you will follow me.”
We trailed behind the hostess, weaving through the restaurant.
Aiden’s steps faltered when his boss’s table came into view.
The way he’d been talking about this brunch, he expected it was merely a formality before being offered the promotion he coveted.
With the nearly full eight-top before us, it now became clear that he had competition for the job.
“Wheeler!” Captain Phillips called out, lifting a hand at our approach. “You finally made it.”
I swear I could hear Aiden’s jaw pop with how tightly it was clenched, but he hid his irritation well when greeting his boss with a handshake. “My apologies, sir. There was a line at the valet stand.”
The man could probably pass a polygraph while lying through his teeth; that’s how good he was at it.
“Ah.” The head of the police department inclined his chin in understanding. “Sunday brunch tends to draw a crowd.”
Eyes scanning those seated around the table, Aiden remarked, “Yes, I can see that.”
“You know Alvarez, Franklin, and O’Connor.”
Aiden greeted them with a curt “Gentlemen.”
“Come take a seat. You haven’t missed much. We’ve only put in our drink orders.”
One of the two empty chairs was pulled out for me, and I thanked the member of the waitstaff who’d appeared like magic to help. Aiden dropped down heavily beside me, and I could tell his frustration was mounting.
Couldn’t wait to get home so he could take it out on me that this potential promotion wasn’t a slam dunk. Not.
We went around the table for introductions—mainly for the women’s benefit, since the men all worked together. When it was my turn, I said my name while offering a meek wave.
“Bridget.” Captain Phillips gave me a genuine smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
My eyes widened. “You have?”
“Oh yes. Wheeler talks about you all the time.”
“Um.” I glanced nervously at the man seated to my right. “That’s nice.”
A waiter stopped by to ask if I wanted anything other than water, and I politely declined, just as Aiden’s boss asked, “How long have the two of you been married?”
“We’re not married.” The words flew out of my mouth on pure reflex.
A split second later, five fingers dug into my thigh so hard that I had to bite my tongue to keep from crying out.
Captain Phillips’s brows drew down as his gaze shifted to Aiden. “Could have sworn you’ve referred to her as your wife.”
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, laughter filled the air. “You know what, that’s on me. I’ve been referring to Bridget as my wife since pretty much the day we met because I know we’re inevitable. We’re planning to make it official very soon, aren’t we, honey?”
With a wooden nod, I mumbled, “Mm-hmm.”
It was nothing short of a miracle that I’d been able to avoid being legally tied to Aiden until death do us part, but if I were a gambling woman, I’d bet that my luck in that regard had finally run out.
“Was it worth it? To make a fool out of me?” Aiden hissed in my ear as he accompanied me to the restroom.
Yep, I wasn’t even allowed to pee without him standing guard outside the door.
His grip on my bicep tightened. “Would it have been so fucking hard to roll with it? Instead of torpedoing my career?”
It was on the tip of my tongue to beg forgiveness when there was a collision that forced us apart.
“Watch where you’re going,” Aiden barked, his rage shifting toward whoever had barreled into us.
My relief at the temporary reprieve was short-lived when the stranger replied, “I’m sorry. It was definitely my fault for texting while walking.”
At the sound of the man’s voice, a gasp tore up my throat. It was one I would recognize anywhere but hadn’t heard in years—outside of my dreams anyway.
God, the timing couldn’t be worse for this impromptu run-in.
“Miss, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Bracing myself to come face-to-face with the love of my life for the first time in nearly a decade, I lifted my gaze slowly.
Ocean-blue eyes widened as recognition set in, and he reared back. “Bridget?”
One look at him, and I was instantly transported to the past. To nights when I snuck out and we spent hours talking on the beach.
To cold ice rinks where I secretly wore his name and number, hidden beneath Bennett’s jersey.
To stolen moments in the dark where we explored every bare inch of skin the other possessed.
As sharp as a knife, the memory of the moment he ended things between us sliced through me, stealing my breath away and making my heart ache all over again.
With my throat feeling like it was lined with razor blades, I rasped, “It’s been a long time.”
“Wait, do you two know each other?” There was a hint of accusation in Aiden’s tone.
“Cole was a teammate of my brother’s.” While technically the truth, it didn’t cover the full extent of our relationship.
Suspicion fading away, Aiden acted as if he shared the burden of our grief. “Bennett was one of a kind.”
Cole’s lips pulled into a sad smile. “Yeah, he was.”
“I miss him every day,” I whispered.
Aiden’s hand found my hip, pulling me into his side and putting on a show of offering me comfort while murmuring against my temple, “I know, baby.”
“Uh . . .” My ex-boyfriend shifted on his feet as he watched the display of affection, not knowing it was as fake as the purses sold in Chinatown.
With no way to avoid it, I was forced to make an introduction. “Cole, this is Aiden, my—”
“Husband,” Aiden finished for me.
This time, I didn’t dare correct him. What did it matter at this point anyway?
“Oh.” Cole’s eyebrows shot sky-high. “Congrats. I had no idea.”
A grin stretched across Aiden’s face. “Thanks, man.”
Shoving both hands into his pockets, Cole rocked back on his heels. “Catch me up. What else has been going on in your life since the last time we saw each other?”
“Well,” I began. “I’m a teacher.”
“Was a teacher,” Aiden was quick to point out before explaining, “Bridget stopped working so that she can stay at home when the baby gets here.”
My ex’s eyes not-so-discreetly dipped to my midsection. “Wow. Congrats.” He let out a strained laugh. “Jeez, I sound like a broken record.”
Lord help me because I couldn’t stay silent, blurting, “I’m not pregnant.”
“Yet.” Aiden’s grip on my hip grew painful. “But we’re actively trying, so it won’t be too much longer before we’re announcing to the world that our little bundle of joy is officially on their way.”
Not if I have anything to say about it.
Cole opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when the phone in his hand chirped with what sounded like an incoming text.
He sucked in a breath through his teeth.
“Shit.” Glancing up, he flashed us an apologetic smile.
“As much as I’d love to stay and chat some more, I’ve gotta go.
” His gaze softened along with his voice.
“It was really great to see you, Bridget. Maybe we’ll run into each other again sometime. ”
“Yeah, maybe.” Though I highly doubted it with how tightly Aiden kept me locked up.
Then he was gone, leaving me behind with my abuser.
And I wondered how much longer it would be before I lost the will to survive.