Page 99 of When We Burn

“Consider it done,” Bridger says with a nod.

I’m shaking as Rod leads Angela away.

“Thanks for calling the police,” I say to Stephen, who’s walked over to see if we’re okay.

“Thank you,” Bridger echoes, nodding at the other man.

“Of course. You handled that really well, Dani. Have a good weekend.”

A small crowd has gathered, but they’re dispersing now, and I am shaking like a freaking leaf from the adrenaline.

“I have to close down my classroom.”

“We’re with you,” Bridger says, but first, he grips my chin and makes me look up at him for the first time. His brown eyes are full of anger and love and concern, and I bite my lip to keep from crying.

“Not here. Please.”

He searches my face and then nods once, looping his free arm around my shoulders. “Let’s get you finished up here so we can go home.”

“Who was that lady?” Birdie asks, sniffling away the last of her tears. “She scared me.”

“She’s no one to worry about,” Bridger assures her, kissing her cheek. “It’s okay, peanut.”

“She said mean things.”

I take a shaky breath as we walk into my classroom. I’m just gathering my purse and coat, turning off the lights, when the principal, Miss Shephard, pokes her head in.

“I heard what happened. Dani, if you have time this weekend, would you please email me a statement so wehave it on file?”

“Of course.”

She smiles at me reassuringly. “I hear you did very well. Thank you.”

When she’s gone, I close and lock my classroom, and Bridger slings his arm around me again, kisses my temple, and I lean into his side, soaking in his warmth and strength.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.”

Some of Angela’s words roll through my mind, the way she’d intended for them to do, and I have to blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“I know.” I swallow hard. “I love you, too. Both of you.”

I’m surprised when we get outside and Bridger leads me to my SUV.

“You picked it up for me?”

“Just came from the garage, yeah,” he says as he helps Birdie get settled in the back seat. “Brooks says it’s good to go.”

“How much do I owe you for it?”

“Nothing.”

I shake my head as I lower myself into the seat. “Bridger, I’m happy to pay for my car.”

“He didn’t charge me anything,” he clarifies as he buckles himself in and then leans over to kiss me, right on the mouth. “But even if he had, you don’t owe anything, kitten.”

I can’t argue with him right now. My mind is foggy from the craptastic day and the altercation with Angela, none of which I can talk about right now because wehave little ears in the car, and she’s been traumatized enough as it is.

The drive home takes less than five minutes, and then we file out of the car, and Bridger follows us into his house, where Pickles comes running to get some attention.

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