Page 105 of Revenge of the Forgotten

“Vega,” Bridger started.

“I said, get your fucking hands off of me.” She took a controlled breath between words.

Bridger pulled his hands away and held them up in surrender. “I just want to know why you didn’t trust me.”

The laugh that bubbled low in Vega’s stomach surprised him. It blew through her lips with a puff of air. “Because maybe I knew you wouldn’t choose me at the end of this, not when your destiny was so perfectly planned out for you.” Bridger stiffened as she continued. “Because maybe I knew you didn’t love me as much as I loved you, and that would be my downfall. I did it to protect myself and the people who truly loved me. I did it because I couldn’t trust you, not really.”

Bridger sat frozen on his knees below Vega, his eyes locked with hers in what felt like the ultimate showdown. Who would look away first this time? Those eyes twinkled with memories, her attitude the same one he’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

Her words sank in like a knife to the gut. Bridger’s jaw flexed once, twice. She’d never trusted you. Maybe Vega was more like Marlena than he’d realized.

No. Could Vega see his internal struggle? She’d always been able to see right through him.

All this time, all these lives, Vega questioned his alliance—even before he’d switched sides. Shame annihilated him, shredding what was left of his soul. For fifteen years, Bridger had fought against his instincts, the role he’d been raised for—and for what? Even in the beginning, the people of the rebellion never trusted him. They watched him like he’d betrayed them long before he actually did. They questioned his actions, never truly giving him a chance to fully become one of them—worried Bridger would take them down from the inside out as a perfectly placed spy by his father, by Marlena.

He’d never felt at home during those fifteen years, not even when Vega was home—slowly becoming someone new altogether.

Finding out she’d been one of the people to question his intentions as well? It broke him. The dreams had started the crack, and Vega’s words were what crumbled the entire foundation.

Bridger lost their stare-off, the turmoil inside of him begging him to flee from Vega’s soul-scorching stare. He forced himself off the vehicle’s floorboard, but before he returned to his side, Bridger reached for the cuffs behind her back, and they responded to his touch. The metal clasp opened and fell from her wrists. When his ass hit the plush bench, Bridger opened the storage underneath the seat beside him and tossed a pouch of mixed nuts to her, followed by a canteen of water. “Eat, drink. You’re gonna need it.”

Vega devoured her food and curled herself onto the bench, where she fell asleep in the most comfortable spot she’d been offered since Bridger took her as Marlena’s prisoner.

Bridger watched the steady rise and fall of her chest, his mental shields shattering no matter how hard he tried to forge them back together.

It took a while to wind their way down the mountain and into the valleys of Pax that would eventually turn into Fortis. Bridger had taken more trips than he could count down this road to Vega before their lives came crashing down around them. He knew where he was without looking, knowing each bump in the road like a little landmark.

They were only a few hours from the fort city—where the start of her newest torment would begin. Fuck. Bridger didn’t want to see Vega beaten even in his darkest days, the ones where he’d buried the real him so deep, he might as well be dead.

The torture awaiting her in Fortis was more than a beating. The punishment there would break her.

A bump shook the vehicle, rattling Vega from her snooze. “I have to pee.” Her voice jostled Bridger out of his daze.

“We’re almost there,” he lied. “Go back to sleep.”

“Would you rather I squat in the corner?” She stared him down. “You know when I get there, I will have no dignity left. You think Marlena is going to let me slip away to the bathroom? No, she’s going to make me piss myself. I already smell bad enough. Can’t you give me this one last thing?” She paused, uncrossing her legs. “Let me pee on the side of the road like a lady.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Bridger sighed and swiveled his body to quickly tap on the wall separating them from the driver.

The vehicle quivered to a slower speed, and a squawky voice rang over the speaker into the cab. “Yes, Commander?”

“The pris—” He stopped himself from calling her “prisoner.” “Vega needs to pee. Send the soldiers up front on horseback ahead of us to keep watch, and tell the others to hold back to do the same.”

Vega rolled her eyes at his correction.

The vehicle trembled to a stop. Bridger waved her out when the door opened, refocusing his eyes away from what little fabric covered her ass. Act like a commander, not a horny teenager. The time she’d spent locked away had stolen the weight that usually filled her out in Bridger’s favorite places. We’re killing her.

Marlena had been trying to end Vega since the moment she’d cursed her, and Bridger was a pawn in her scheme—a puppet she controlled. He knew his redemption was long gone, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t twist the narrative, didn’t mean he couldn’t try to say sorry in the only way that mattered.

She’s getting to you, the darkness on his shoulder said. Don’t forget why you’re in this position, why you chose to betray her. And there was the light who’d recently reappeared. Bridger had only ever wanted to keep her safe.

Bridger honed in on her voice outside of the vehicle through the small crack in the unclosed door.

“Can you turn around?” Vega asked, annoyed.

“No way. I don’t trust that you won’t run,” the soldier quipped.

“Please tell me how you expect me to run in this state.” Bridger winced at the sadness in her voice. “Thanks to your piece of shit ruler, I’m skin and bones again.”

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