Page 169 of Hunt for You

I looked up at Jeremy, who frowned deeper. “What is it?”

“You knew? That Sam was Cain—my stalker? You knew they were the same?”

“I knew you had this fucker following you around, and that for whatever reason, you kept going to see him too. Nice, hidingthat little plan, by the way, B. If you think I’m ever trusting another word out of your mouth, you’re fooling yourself.”

“Cut the shit, Jeremy. Did you find any links between him and my dad? Did my father send him? Was this all just one more of his mind-fucks?”Had I been wrong about Cain? Had I caught a true monster after all?

Jeremy stared at me a second, his expression softening a hair.

Adrenaline shoved through my veins. “Tell me.”

“Sam served his time in the same prison, some of it on the same floor. We don’t have proof that they’re associates. Yet. We’re looking into it.”

No.No!

My heel started hopping and Jeremy clocked it right away.

“Leave it alone,” I said, biting my cuticle that kept catching.

“Bridget,” Jeremy said in the tone he got when he was beingconcerned.

“I said, leave it.”

He sighed. Neither of us spoke while the medics checked me over again, eventually complimenting me on how low my heart rate was.

“…under the circumstances, that’s impressive.”

“Cold as ice,” I muttered, my heel still tapping on the steel step of the ambulance.

Jeremy was on the phone, but with his back to me, I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the sound of all the people nearby, and the running engine of the ambulance.

Two hours later we were at the office and he took me into one of the interview rooms that they used for “clients” who needed psychological assessment.

I’d been in those rooms more times than I could count. They were definitely more comfortable than the police interrogation rooms, but I still wasn’t impressed.

As Jeremy and two of his colleaguesoffered me a seat on the thick couch, I dropped into it, crossing my legs and arms and staring at him sullenly like I was still sixteen—which was how old I was when we met.

I didn’t realize I was rapidly tapping my heel until Jeremy took his own seat, glanced at my foot, then back up to my eyes.

“He’s not even in this building, Bridget. Relax. You’re going to be fine. We’ve got this.”

No, they didn’t. They didn’t have it all. And neither did I.

I’d done a lot of fucked up shit in my lifetime, but this was the first time I was pretty sure that I screwed over one of the good guys.

God, I hoped it was the first time. And the last.

This wasn’t what I’d been trying to do.

I shook off the dark thoughts as Jeremy started asking me questions that made it very obvious he’d known a lot more than he let on.

I was pissed.

At one point, when another agent asked me about Ronald breaking into my house, I glared at Jeremy. “You knew, and you didn’t stop him?!”

“Val told us what happened, but I thought youinvited him,”Jeremy growled, looking just as pissed as I was. “That’s when I started following Priestley and monitoring you more closely.”

But I wasn’t backing down. “You promised I could have my life back! You said after that psycho wanted to suck out myintestines that I could bring them to you whenIfelt like it. You said you wouldn’t follow me anymore!”

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