Because You Love Me (14 page)

Walking into the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator, searching for ingredients. She wanted to surprise the guys with a big breakfast. Pulling out eggs and a package of bacon, she put them on the counter, then grabbed the coffeepot and headed for the sink.

She’d just started to hum, a sure sign she was out of her mind with joy, when she heard a light tap on the back door. Looking over, she saw Rodney waving to her frantically.

Her good mood vanished in an instant. His face betrayed that his news wasn’t good. She opened the door and instantly shivered as a burst of cold air struck her.

“Get your clothes. We’re getting out of here.”

“What happened?” she asked. “Did you find something in Ellen’s house? Did you get caught?”

Rodney looked around the kitchen to make sure they were alone. Her heart began to race. She’d seen him go into warrior-mode only twice before, both times when the hit man took his shots at her.

“I didn’t find anything in the house, but we’re going to have to give up on that, Bridget. He’s here.”

Her stomach twisted into knots. “He?”

Rodney tilted his head, didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. “I searched the house last night. Didn’t find a fucking thing. That Ellen woman didn’t even own a computer. Went back to the B&B and started looking at the message again. I’ll be damned if I can figure out the fucking code, so I tried your suggestion. The next sentence has the word key in it. Decided maybe I was looking for the wrong damn thing.”

“You think he gave Ellen a key?”

“Well, he sure as hell didn’t give her a flash drive. I turned that place upside down looking. Anyway, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d take another swipe at the house. Look for a key.”

“Did you find one?” she asked.

“Never made it back to the house. I was on the outskirts of town when I saw him walking out of one of the hotels. God knows how long he’s been here. I’m trying to figure out how the hell he found us.”

“I don’t know. He must have tracked us from Oklahoma somehow.”

Rodney nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. Bridget, we gotta move. Now.”

“Where?”

“I have no fucking idea. But it’s not safe here anymore. Not for you, not for our friends.”

Bridget’s blood ran cold at the thought of the danger she’d put the James brothers, Todd, and Steven in. Reaching down, she picked up her shoes. Fortunately, she’d pulled them off while making dinner. She lived in bare feet in her apartment. Matt and Mark had teased her about her habit of taking her shoes off the second she walked in a house. “Let’s go.”

“What about your clothes?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to risk waking up the guys.”

“Here.” Rodney took off his coat and helped her put it on. Even with the extra layer, she was going to freeze her ass off on the way back to the inn. Literally. The boxers weren’t much protection. “You sure about this? You don’t want to leave a note or something?”

“No. They won’t let me leave easily. It’s better this way.”

Better, she thought, as she hastily followed Rodney along the secluded trail, her heart breaking more with every step she took.

Better, but not easier.

Chapter Eight

Bridget threw the rest of her clothing in a bag and glanced around the room to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Rodney had packed up his own things, then insisted she remain in the room while he tried to sort out their next hideout. He said it would be a big mistake for them to run off without any direction. It was better for her to stay out of sight. He’d borrowed Steven’s truck and taken off over an hour ago. She was starting to worry Thompson’s henchman had caught up with him. He’d been gone too long.

She glanced down at the floor, mildly surprised to find she hadn’t paced a hole in the carpeting. She was a nervous wreck. With each moment that passed, her anxiety grew. She’d hoped to be gone well before Matt and Mark discovered her absence from their bed. What would they think when they woke and couldn’t find her? Would they think she’d freaked out and run? Changed her mind?

A light knock at the door sent her jumping nearly two feet in the air. Rodney wouldn’t have knocked. She froze, uncertain what to do. What if it was the hit man?

“Open the door, Bridget. We know you’re in there.”

Mark’s voice drifted through the wall. She’d run out of time. Now she would be forced to lie again. But lie she would if it meant protecting the men she cared about from harm.

She opened the door. On the other side, she was greeted by two thoroughly annoyed lovers. They weren’t happy about her disappearing act.

“Hey,” she said, realizing it was an inane greeting.

“Hey yourself.” Matt walked into the room and handed her a large bouquet of flowers. Her heart skipped a beat at the romantic gesture. As quickly as her joy came, it fled, an ache blooming in her chest instead. Leaving them would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done.

Mark entered the room as well, closing the door behind him.

“I have something for you too,” Mark said, holding up a white envelope. His face was strangely blank, something Bridget had never seen before. He was a gentle man who’d never looked at her with anything less than kindness or humor.

“What is it?”

“We were hoping you could tell us. When we woke up in an empty bed, we were worried we’d overwhelmed you. Matt suggested we get you flowers.”

She smiled and hoped they couldn’t see the tears gathering in her eyes. “I like the flowers.”

Mark didn’t acknowledge her comment. “On the way to town, we stopped by Ellen Updyke’s house this morning to offer our condolences to her niece and to see if she needed help with anything. Her aunt’s funeral is today.”

A ball of ice formed in her stomach. She tried to ignore it and focus on their thoughtful gesture. “That was nice of you.”

He nodded, but didn’t return her smile or acknowledge her compliment. “Her niece was cleaning up the house, getting ready for the reception after the funeral.”

The event she and Rodney had planned to crash. Looked like that plan was shot to hell.

Then she wondered where Mark going with this whole conversation. Clearly something had happened at Ellen’s house. Had the hit man shown up there?

Her voice was weak with fear and dread. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Gretchen, Ellen’s niece, was with her aunt when she passed away. Said one of the last things her aunt did before she died was hand her this letter, telling her to guard it carefully and never show it to anyone. Said to be on the lookout for the woman whose name was written on the front.”

Mark flipped the letter over and Bridget gasped. Written in Lyle’s distinctive scrawl was her name, but there was no way Matt and Mark could know that. She’d introduced herself as Carson.

“Bridget Wilder?”

“You,” Matt said.

She looked at her other lover. He’d been silent since handing her the flowers. It wasn’t like him to be quiet. “Me?”

Matt took her continued denial like a punch in the face. She felt sick to her stomach, sorry about the lies. “I typed Bridget Wilder and New York City into my iPhone. Pulled up an article about a reporter who’d gone into protective custody after witnessing a murder. Even had a picture of you.”

They knew.

“So this Gretchen, she showed the letter to you?”

She and Rodney had been right. Lyle’s code had led them to Saratoga and his godmother, Ellen, but how could she explain this to the two men staring at her with suddenly angry eyes?

Mark nodded. “Unlike her aunt, Gretchen’s not exactly known for her ability to keep a secret or mind her own business. She was dying to open the letter and asked my advice. When I saw the name Bridget, something clicked. I told her I knew you and that I’d deliver it for her. Needless to say, she was disappointed. I expect her to call me sometime in the next twenty-four hours to grill me about you.”

Matt took a step closer to her. “You want to tell us why Ellen Updyke had a letter with your name written on it, Bridget? I get that you’re in protective custody, and I think it’s pretty fucking obvious that Rodney’s not your brother. But none of what I read in that newspaper explains why you’re here, hiding in plain sight. I thought safe houses were secluded places tucked away in the middle of nowhere.”

She sighed, silently wishing Rodney was here. He’d know how to proceed. Her heart longed to tell them the whole truth, but she feared it may be too late. How would they feel once she revealed how badly she’d misled them? She’d let things go way too far with her handsome twins. The day of reckoning was at hand.

“I suspect I’ll find a key in there.” It wasn’t the answer they were hoping for, but it was the most innocuous one she could give them. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. She’d lived every moment of the past six months jumping at shadows and running for her life, but she’d never felt true fear until this moment.

Would they forgive her for her deception? How would they feel when they learned of her role in Lyle’s death? She couldn’t forgive herself for letting her friend die. How could she ask them to?

“A key?” Matt asked.

She nodded and reached for the envelope. Mark handed it to her. She wanted to open it, but she hesitated.

“Go on,” Matt prodded, his words almost a dare.

They were worried about her. She knew that. They’d known from almost the start that she was hiding something from them, but she’d piled lie upon lie rather than offer them the trust they’d given her so completely.

She took a deep breath and opened the envelope. A small key fell out into the palm of her hand. The letter inside simply said First Bank, 348 Main Street, Saratoga.

“That’s a safe-deposit box key from the bank,” Mark said. “We have one too. Got the deed to the ranch and other important documents stored there. I thought you said you’d never been to Saratoga before. Is this yours?”

She nodded. “It is now.”

Matt threw up his hands in frustration. “More vague answers. What the hell is going on here, Bridget? Last night everything seemed fine. We show up today to find you packed up and ready to bail without a word.”

“I wanted to leave you a note,” she said, the words sounding lame even to her ears. She’d never intended to write them anything. She simply didn’t have the strength to say good-bye to them—not on paper and not in person.

“You wanted to leave a note?” Mark asked. “The same way Ellen left a note for you?”

“I want to tell you, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

“Dammit, Bridget. Why can’t you get it through that thick skull of yours that we want to help? We would never—”

“What’s going on here?” Rodney stood at the door looking as blindsided as she felt.

She held out the key. “Mark brought me this. It’s from Ellen.”

Rodney walked closer, slowly, hesitantly. He took the key and letter from her. “I see.”

“Mark and Matt want to know, Rodney. Please.” She wasn’t anxious to continue their earlier argument, but she was tired of secrets, of running, of hiding.

Rodney looked at her and nodded slowly. “So tell them.”

She paused, her mind struggling to comprehend. Had she heard him correctly? “All of it?”

“All of it.”

She smiled tremulously. “It will be okay. We can trust them. They’ll help us. I know they will.”
Please let that be true
.

Rodney gave her an encouraging grin, then crossed the room, claiming a chair by the window. She was used to that pose. He was looking out, keeping his eyes peeled for the villain he’d spotted earlier this morning. “Just make it quick, kitten. Time’s not exactly on our side.”

She sat down on the bed and gestured to the other chair in the room. Matt claimed it while Mark joined her on the edge of the mattress.

“You’re worrying me, darlin’,” Mark said, grasping her hand. “What’s going on?”

“Honestly, it sounds like you’ve already figured most of it out on your own. I witnessed a murder. The killer is a very powerful, highly connected judge in the New York court system. By highly connected, I mean to politicians and the mob.”

Matt nodded. “Scary shit. That doesn’t explain why you’re in Saratoga using Todd and Steven’s inn as a safe house.”

Rodney stepped forward. “This isn’t a safe house. There have been two attempts made on Bridget’s life in the past six months.”

“Jesus,” Mark muttered.

Bridget took his hand in hers and squeezed. “I’m still alive, Mark. Rodney began to suspect there was someone dirty at the police department, someone who was feeding the locations of the safe houses to the judge and his hit man.”

“Hit man?” Matt shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of this at all.”

Bridget tried to offer a comforting smile. “Rodney and I decided to go rogue. We both cleaned out our bank accounts, and we took off for Saratoga in the dead of the night. We thought we’d be safe here because no one knew where we were.”

Mark wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Bridget, you should have told us what was going on. We would have protected you.”

She was touched by the offer and overwhelmed once more by guilt. “We didn’t know who we could trust. It’s been just Rodney and me for so long. I guess we figured we could keep doing it on our own. I mean, I’m fine so far.”