He didn’t offer me empty platitudes. He didn’t try to soothe me. He simply led me inside and to the couch where he tucked me in with a blanket and then showered me with affection and attention. I felt a little better after some tea, my favorite cookies, and a foot rub.
But the lingering effects of the phone call with my father are still clinging to me even a days later.
Bridger has been cagey about the entire thing. It’s making me more than a little suspicious because I remember his threat.
My phone ringing pulls me out of my memories of talking with my father and my eyes widen when I see it’s Tasha calling. I’ve only heard from her one time since I left the firm, and that was only a text explaining to me how she was forbidden from talking to me.
It’s not like I was surprised because her father is just as bad as mine, but it still stung. I was hoping my only friend would fight for me and wouldn’t give in to the demands of her father.
Bridger looks at me with his eyebrow raised because he knows what went down with Tasha all those months ago. That’s why I answer the call and put it on speakerphone right away.
“Tasha? Are you okay?”
“Avery, oh my god, it’s so good to hear your voice,” she sounds giddy, but I’m confused about her cheeriness. And the fact that she’s talking to me at all. “Have you seen the news?”
My eyebrows pull together and I echo, “The news?”
When I glance at Bridger, he has a smug look on his face and turns on the TV. After flipping through the channels, he finds the local news station and sits back like his work here is done.
“This was the scene today at Page and Prescott as the Department of Justice, CBI, and local law enforcement descended upon the prestigious law firm specializing in corporate law,” the newscaster’s voice pulls my attention away from Avery who is babbling about how I need to see what is going on.
The screen is filled with official looking people moving in and out of the office building while carrying boxes. My breath gets caught in my lungs when my father, Mr. Prescott, and Eric are escorted out of the building in handcuffs.
“Are you watching?” Tasha’s voice cuts through my shock.
“Yeah,” I mutter, “what’s going on?”
Our peanut gives a hard kick, and I move my hand there. Bridger’s hand covers mine and gives my fingers a squeeze, but I can’t look away from the screen.
“This is after The Denver Post broke a story on the front page of today’s paper that exposes the years of criminal wrongdoing, misconduct, and intimidation,” the newscaster continues.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out.
“Right? Isn’t it amazing?” Tasha crows.
I turn slowly toward Bridger to find him already looking at me. “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper while keeping my attention on my man.
He winks at me and smiles like a man with a secret.
“I know what to say,” Tasha chirps, “we’re free. Really free.”
“Free,” I parrot and then blink. “I’ve been free,” I tell her, the shock starting to fade, “and I’m happy.”
“Good.” Tasha pauses and when she speaks again, her voice is thick with emotion, “I’m so sorry I listened to my father’s orders and haven’t talked to you in so long. It wasn’t just my father,” she admits softly. “Eric wouldn’t let it go. I was afraid that if I defied them then it would make it worse for you, but I should have still tried.”
“It’s okay, Tasha,” I reassure her. “I don’t blame you. I know how it feels to be trapped in that cage. Sometimes the only thing you can do is survive from one day to another.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” she whispers, and I can hear the tears in her voice.
“You’ll find your happiness too,” I promise.
And I believe it. Now that she’s free, she’ll find her own path, one she’s proud to walk. I don’t know if we’ll ever be friends again, not like we were, but at least now she has a chance to have a life she wants instead of the one expected of her.
We chat for a few more minutes which makes me feel lighter. I didn’t even realize how heavy the loss of her friendship was weighing on me.
When we hang up, I turn toward Bridger and study him. He tries to give nothing away, but one side of his mouth tips up.
“You did this?”
