Torin and Summer

Chapter 12 (Torin): RSVP

***TW for violence and death***

They train you for situations like this. Drill you until you can come up instantly with at least twenty different solutions for getting out of situations like this alive.

But that was my own life or a stranger's. None of those scenarios ever involved my wife. This was personal, this was real and it was Summer's life at stake.

Regret hit me like a semi-truck that lost its brakes going down a mountain. Regret that I'd brought Bridgette into our lives. Regret that I'd allowed this exact moment to happen because I was working an undercover job. Regret that I'd brought my marriage to the brink of ruin. And, most of all, regret that my wife's life was now being threatened by this bitch.

And that made me think this was a good day for Bridgette to die.

She wanted to invite me to the party by holding a gun on my wife? I'd fucking give her an RSVP. First, I needed to figure out if anyone else was in the house to make sure no one else could suddenly appear or be used as a hostage.

"Did you bring Elijah over so I could say hi?"

Of all the things she'd been imagining I could say, that wasn't one, I could tell. Nor was my calm, even demeanor. Good. Shake her up, throw her off, keep her guessing.

"Uh...wha -- no. No. No, he's got a sleepover at a friend's tonight."

"How's he doing?" 

She wasn't expecting my friendly, curious tone or me completely ignoring the gun she was threatening my wife with.

"He's fine, doing well, but he misses you." She shook herself, then glared at me. "Stop it! Stop acting normal! This isn't a fucking social visit!"

"OK, OK," I said in a soothing, calm voice. "What do you want me to do with these groceries, Bridgette? Should I put them down here? Take them into the kitchen? There's some ice cream that's going to start melting if I don't put it away. And milk. That shouldn't stay out of the fridge for too long."

She looked at the bags in my hands, then back up at me, obviously confused that I was talking about something so normal at a time like this. But my asking Bridgette not only distracted her, it also made her feel like she was still in control. I'd given her a decision to make, pulling her focus from Summer.

I wanted to look at my wife, reassure her, but it was best at this time that I not give Bridgette any reason to look over at Summer. Keeping her focused on me was job one right now.

"I don't --"

"I can put them away real quick," I said taking a step toward the kitchen, forcing Bridgette to turn toward me and take the gun off Summer. 

"There're only four bags. It won't take me long to put the food away. It won't take any time."

I took another step back so her back was completely to Summer. 

Keep that gun on me, bitch.

"Wait, wait. Stop," she snapped at me.

I backed up another step toward the kitchen. "OK, I'm stopping. I'm not moving. I'll let you decide what I can do. We're good."

I could see Summer just over Bridgette's shoulder.

Get ready, Summer.

"Bridgette, if you want to --"

"Just stop, Torin! God, nothing about you is easy."

"What are you talking about, Bridgette?"

"You were supposed to lead me to Curt."