Page 25 of Prey for You

“Yeah, but… I know you talked to some of them. I’m just asking—”

“There was no one else, Sam,” she said, then craned her neck to lift her head and stare down at me again, no more laughter in her eyes. “Thereisno one else. No one.”

My stomach swooped and I squeezed her a little tighter. “So you’re abandoning your whole plan?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry—have we met? Planning is not my forte.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, Bridget,” I said flatly. “You came looking for me and your timeframe wassoclear… why? What made it all urgent? And if you’ve given up on that, what changed your mind?”

She deflated. “Sam… it’s allyou. You changed my mind.”

“You mean Cain changed your mind—”

“No. No, it was definitely you.You took me on that awful date and even though I was terrible at it, it made me want something I hadn’t ever wanted to look for. But that scared me, because hope is fucking terrifying, Sam. I was messed up and wrong. That’s what I mean, I misjudged everything. But it’s stilltrue: You made me want to want another life. I was scared of that, and scared of what I’d do to you. So I made another plan to make myself feel better.”

“With Cain.”

She nodded. “With Cain.”

I felt a little better—still nervous, but more confident that she wasn’t just here for the hunt. But that just begged another question.

“I’m so glad you aren’t looking for a way out. But… Christmas is a little over three months from now,” I said softly and felt her go stiff immediately. “Don’t freak out on me, we have to talk about—”

“IhateChristmas.”

“Because of your Dad?”

She nodded. “Before that year, Christmas was literally my favorite time of year. Mom would always let me help her decorate the tree the day after Thanksgiving. And she’d collect presents and wrap them early so I’d come home from school and there’d be new boxes. I loved it—hot chocolate, peppermint, Christmas carols, the whole thing. But every single memory of those weeks looks like decking the halls, sounds like fucking jingle bells and Michael Buble, and… God, I hate itso much.”

“Bridget—”

“I’m not exaggerating, Sam. I’m a walking panic attack for like six weeks. Then when New Years finally arrives, I’m exhausted. Gerald says it’s the true definition of triggers—” she dropped her voice to a low, pompous posturing that I guessed was supposed to be Gerald.“Your brain has attached the negative experiences you endured with the external stimulus that were present during that season of your life. When your mind hears the music, or sees the decorations, it unconsciously associates those with core memories of pain and loss. To your psyche, Santa Claus might as well have murdered your mother. You have to face it, Bridget, because it won’t change unless you do…”

She groaned and rolled back over, shaking her head as she stared at the ceiling. “Whatever,” she muttered. “All I know is, I can’t escape it. And it’s fucking exhausting.”

I took a deep breath and pushed up onto my elbow to lean over her, looking down, and put my hand on her hands where they were clasped, white-knuckled, on her stomach.

“There’s one difference this year,” I said quietly. She looked at me, and I smiled. “I’m going to be here this time.”

She nodded and smiled, but it was tight. And the unspoken wordsif you’re not in prisonhung in the air.

“I’ll help, Bridge, I promise.”

“I hope so.”

I tipped my head and gave her the half-grin she liked so much. “I’ll have thebestpresent for you to unwrap.”

She snorted and I felt some of the tension in her body unravel. “A ribbon around your cock isnota Christmas present.”

I pretended to be wounded. “What? Why? What more could a wife want?”

“To forget that it’s Christmas at all,” she shot back without hesitation.

I sighed. “Maybe we can go somewhere they don’t celebrate?”

She gave me a look. “In the middle of a Court case in which we aren’t supposed to be within a hundred feet of each other? Sure. Sounds like a plan.”

“Bridget—”

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