Chapter 20
Maggie
With my elbow propped up on the passenger window ledge and the side of my head resting against the glass, it’s easy for me to keep my eyes on the passenger side mirror and look at the long road behind us as we drive through Idaho. We could have cut south through Wyoming on our way to Salt Lake City, but the road tends to be more winding around the buttes. Cutting southwest through Idaho wasn’t as direct a route to Salt Lake City, but the terrain was flatter with wide-open spaces so you could see if someone was following you.
We’ve lapsed into silence, part hypnotized by the bland terrain and flat roads as well as being lost within our own thoughts. I wasn’t expecting this to happen. I’d been lulled into a false sense of security thinking that Belle and I were safe at Bridger’s and that it was just a matter of waiting until Mayhem’s Mission could be taken down. I’d forgotten the hours of torture that Kayla put me through, and the beatings I took from Zeke when he first caught me without Belle. It was all so easy to put that shit behind me because I had the bright, dazzling persona of Bridger Payne distracting me.
That, of course, makes me feel incredibly guilty. I should have been more worried about Belle and less worried about whether Bridger would ever fully open up to me. I should have never gotten involved with him on a sexual level and just accepted his hospitality and protection until I had Belle firmly in hand, then I should have taken off and gotten far away from Zeke and Kayla.
Except I know deep down that wasn’t a plausible scenario. I had nowhere to go. No money. No credit. No car. I had no way to support my daughter and ensure her safety. I was stuck depending on Bridger for my entire well-being and that of Belle’s.
Which brings me right back to the beginning, and that is living in Bridger’s home, seeing what I want right there in front of me, and acting on it.
Of course, there is the tiny little fact I need to consider that just this morning as we were riding Lucy together, he was essentially telling me he’s not in this for the long haul. He specifically told me that we were too different for this to work out in the end.
Is he right about that?
Are his demons better controlled with the way he lives his life now, or can I chase them off? Does he really need The Silo the way he says he does, and if so, could I ever reconcile that fact? Could I share him with that lifestyle?
Bridger doesn’t seem to think so, and that’s really the reason he laid things out for me so clearly today.
I sigh, cut my eyes forward for a few moments, and then gaze back into the side view mirror.
“You’re a very brave woman, Mags,” Bridger says softly, and my head swivels to the left to look at him. He has his right hand gripping the top of the steering wheel and his left arm casually resting on the window ledge. He looks so calm and in control right now, and I feel like I’m going to splinter into a million pieces.
“I don’t feel it,” I murmur, directing my gaze back out the windshield.
“You could have insisted on going with Belle,” he says softly. “You would have been safe at the governor’s mansion.”
I didn’t understand at first why Bridger told Woolf and Callie to head to Cheyenne, but he told me as soon as he got in the Hummer and we were heading out of town. He’d told me that Belle would be protected by the governor’s security detail. As long as she was inside that house, no one was getting at her, and I marveled at Bridger’s brilliance and quick thinking.
We didn’t see one single biker as we left Jackson, and once we crossed over into Idaho, it was pretty clear no one was following us. Still, it was a wise decision for us to split up from Belle because if we’d stayed together and were followed, we were all unsafe until we got to Callie’s father. At least this way, there’s a very good chance they’ll come after me, assuming Belle would be in the back of the Hummer and not well on her way to Cheyenne in the back of a G550 that would never be on Zeke’s radar.
“What do you think’s going to happen?” I ask him curiously.
“Well, if Kyle’s ATF handler will call me the fuck back, we’ll have a better idea, but you and I will lay low until we figure it out.”
Bridger’s first course of action after we crossed into Idaho was to try to get up with Kyle’s ATF handler. He’d told Bridger his name was Joseph Kizner and he was working as a used car salesman in Driggs. It only took Bridger a few phone calls to locate the dealership he worked at, as well as a crafty message on the man’s voice mail, and we were hoping to hear from him at any time.
I nod in acceptance. He’s basically telling me what I already know, and that is we don’t know jack shit. We’re flying by the seat of our pants and have no clue if we’ll stay hidden for two days or two weeks.
So that discussion is out, but I might as well turn the discussion back to something we could at least air out. “What do you think will happen with us?” I ask him.
He doesn’t even flinch, but just turns his head lazily to look at me. “Haven’t given it much thought.”
I grimace and look away from him. Nice to know I plague his mind so much. I open my mouth to tell him I should definitely move to Coeur D’Alene, but he’s apparently not done.
“I have no clue what your expectations are, Mags,” he says softly as he reaches across the interior and gives my thigh a squeeze, all while keeping an eye on the road. “But I’m not ready to give you up yet. Haven’t even begun to get my fill of you. So I guess for the immediate future, I’d like you to consider staying around Jackson.”
“In your home?” I ask bluntly. “Me and my two-year-old daughter… you want us to stay?”
I can tell he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t given it much thought because he sort of blanches at the thought of us being there permanently. In fact, he doesn’t even need to answer my question as I see his lack of commitment to that deep of a relationship written all over his face.
“I’ll think about it,” I cut in before he can say anything, turning my gaze back to the side view mirror after leaning my head against the window again. “Staying in Jackson, that is. But I’d have to find a job and a place for Belle and me to live.”
I can almost see feel his body exhale with relief, and yeah… that hurts. He wants me close enough to fuck me but not so close as I become a burden on him and his single lifestyle.
But life hurts sometimes, and I’ve got bigger things to worry about than whether or not Bridger cares enough about me. Right now, he’s doing right by Belle and me by keeping us safe and protected. I owe him the world for that, but at the least he deserves my respect. Said respect will cost me some chunks of my heart being carved out the more I come to realize he’s a tougher nut to crack that I’d supposed originally.
Bridger’s phone rings, and he picks it up from the center console.
“It’s him,” he says after looking at the incoming number. “Him” being Joseph Kizner.
After he connects the call, Bridger hits the speakerphone button so I can listen to the conversation. I sit up straight and lean toward the phone as Bridger holds it up in between us.
“Bridger Payne,” he says by way of identifying himself.
“Yeah… Mr. Payne, this is Joseph Kizner, calling you back.”
When Bridger had left a voice message, he’d didn’t bother to make up a story about selling a car. He needed something a little more enticing to induce Mr. Kizner to call him back as quickly as possible. So his voice mail merely stated he was trying to reach a high school friend by the name of Kyle Sommerville and that he’d heard Joseph had served with him in the army. All completely fictitious, but it got Kyle’s name out there. Anyone in the office who might have listened to the message wouldn’t be any the wiser that Mr. Kizner was not a salesman but was in fact an ATF agent.
“Do you know who I am?” Bridger asks him. “Has Kyle mentioned me?”
“He has,” Kizner affirms. “Mentioned you several months ago as someone we could potentially use to gather further info on Mayhem’s Mission.”
“Yeah? Well, I would have declined had you approached me,” Bridger says dryly, “but Kyle got me messed up in this shit all the same.”
“What do you mean?” Kizner asks with obvious worry in his tone.
“Zeke was keeping a woman prisoner at the club… name of Maggie Waylon. She and Zeke have a two-year-old daughter together named Belle. Maggie escaped with Belle and got her to safety, but Zeke caught Maggie. Had been beating her, and his old lady took matters into her own hands when Zeke went on a run here recently. Was torturing her and was going to kill her. Kyle got Maggie out and asked me to take care of her.”
“Jesus fuck,” Joseph growls into the phone.
“I take it you didn’t know any of this?” Bridger asks.
“We don’t meet often. It’s too risky, and we were supposed to meet yesterday, but he never showed. Wasn’t anything I would be worried about though. We’ve had meets before where he doesn’t show because something came up, but I figured I’d hear from him soon.”
“Well, something may be wrong,” Bridger says somberly. “Zeke showed up at my house a bit ago looking for Kyle—said he hasn’t seen him. I can’t tell you why, but it didn’t sound right to me. It’s like I got the impression he knew exactly where Kyle was but was trying to figure out what I knew. I think he knows Kyle took Maggie out of there, and I think he knows I was hiding Maggie and her daughter, Belle.”
“Do you think he knows Kyle is working undercover?” Kizner asks, his voice now on full alert.
“I don’t know, but my gut says no,” I tell him. “If he suspected that, wouldn’t he be getting the hell out of dodge?”
“Good point. Where are you?”
“We’ve only been on the road a few hours. Heading to Salt Lake City, but we’re not far from Montpelier, Idaho. I’ve sent Belle to Cheyenne with a friend whose father is the governor. She’ll be well protected.”
“Okay,” Kizner says, his voice now taking charge and brooking no nonsense. “We’ve got Zeke under constant surveillance as well as his higher-ups in the club. I’m going to check in with them, see where they are.”
“I don’t think they’re following us,” Bridger supplies.
“Then go ahead and pull off in Montpelier. Get a hotel and wait to hear from me.”
“What are you going to do?” Bridger asks pointedly. “Because we cannot stay on the run. I’ve got a business… Maggie wants to get back to her daughter.”
“I get that, and things are going to move fast. We’re actually ready to take them down. All supporting agencies are in place, and we have enough agents ready to go. We were just waiting on this last meet with Kyle for the go-ahead. But if you think he’s in danger, then we have to move now.”
“Like as in ‘now’, right now?” Bridger asks, his eyes cutting to me briefly.
“As in a few hours,” Kizner says. “It will go down tonight probably, after it gets dark. Probably let them party a bit… get relaxed.”
Bridger nods in understanding, but he adds on for Kizner’s planning benefit. “Zeke invited me to the club. Expects me there at eleven PM. If you don’t do it by then, he’ll send some people out for me, I’m sure.”
“Then we’ll have it go down before then,” Kizner says. “This number I’m calling you from is my cell. Text me the hotel you’re at and I’ll let you know as soon as we have the club members in custody. We’ll need you to come back and give a statement and such, but we’ll worry about that later.”
“Got it,” Bridger says, and then adds on, “And just so you know… if they are following us and come anywhere near Maggie or me, I’m going to shoot.”
“Wouldn’t expect otherwise,” Kizner says. “Talk later.”
And then he hangs up.
Bridger draws his phone to his face, rubs the edge thoughtfully against this chin. “I wonder if Zeke knows Kyle is undercover or he just thinks he helped you escape?”
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “But I can tell you this… Kyle was good in his act. I would have never thought he was a cop. He was an asshole, and like I said… he egged Kayla on when she was torturing me.”
“You know he was doing that to maintain his cover,” Bridger points out.
“Yeah, I get it,” I say with a smile. “And I will totally give him a hug when this is all over.”
Bridger doesn’t respond but puts his blinker on as the exit for Highway 30 looms ahead. He then holds his phone back out, chooses a contact, and dials, also putting it on speakerphone so I can listen.
Woolf answers almost immediately.
“Just checking in,” Bridger says. “Where are you?”
“About half an hour outside of Rock Springs,” Woolf says. The trip to Cheyenne is over six hours in length so it will be at least four more before I know Belle is to safety.
“Anyone following you that you can tell?” Bridger asks and I hold my breath waiting to hear his answer.
“Nope,” Woolf responds casually, and then adds on the best news I’ve heard yet. “Callie called her father and filled him in on what was going on and that we were heading his way. He arranged for the state police to escort us county by county to Cheyenne, so you don’t have to worry about Belle.”
“Oh, thank God,” I murmur, but Woolf apparently hears me loud and clear.
“I’ll take good care of her, Maggie. I promise,” he reassures me.
“Listen,” Bridger says. “I just got off the phone with Kyle’s ATF handler. Filled him in on what was going down, and they’re concerned about Kyle. They’re going in tonight to make the bust.”
“Thank fu—” Woolf starts to say, but then he stumbles and says, “Fudge.”
Bridger turns to me and we smirk at each other, because yeah… sometimes you have to watch your mouth when you have a two-year-old in the car.
“At any rate, at his suggestion, we’re stopping in Montpelier,” Bridger continues, “but you should head on to Cheyenne. It’ll hopefully be over by tomorrow, and then you can start back.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Woolf says.
“Later,” Bridger says.
He disconnects and puts the phone back in the console, his hand going to the top of the steering wheel again to resume his casual pose.
Now that I know Belle is utterly safe and has police protection even as we speak, all of the tension I’d been carrying just melts away from my body. I don’t care if I’m bait and Zeke comes after me, but knowing that Belle is safe right now makes me incredibly happy.
“We’ll Facetime with Belle once they get to Cheyenne, okay?” Bridger asks, glancing at me again.
“Sounds good,” I say as I lean back in my seat and look straight ahead. I don’t bother looking at my side view mirror anymore, because it seems we’re good.
We’re safe.
Zeke’s going down tonight.
Belle and I will be reunited.
And then I’ll figure out what to do about Bridger.