Page 36 of Prey for You

While I watched, he pulled his phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and tapped on it for a few seconds, then stared.

Nothing.

Our eyes hooked as he slipped it back into his jacket, but he kept scanning the room like he didn’t even see me.

My hands itched.

I’d left my burner phone hidden at home to be safe, but that meant I had no way to check in. If she didn’t get here, God would have to talk me off the ledge of feeding Jeremy’s ass to his face.

What did you do to scare her, you bastard?

My lawyer leaned over me, adjusting the position of the mic on the table and using the opportunity to murmur in my ear when no one else would hear.

“You look like you’re about to strangle someone. They’re turning the cameras on.Relax.”

I nodded and rubbed my face, reminding myself that this was all part of the process. That if I wanted to keep her safe from Jeremy’s interference, then I had to play the game. But I never imagined she’d miss this chance to be in the same room. And that begged the question, what wasn’t she telling me?

I was barely halfway through another silent prayer for God to keep her safe and bring herherewhen the door clicked and swung silently open, and she stepped in.

Leggings. A hoodie big enough to be loose on me. Her hair tucked behind her ears. No make-up. And her big eyes down on the floor.

My fingers tightened on the arm of the chair until she lifted her chin and our eyes caught for the barest second, then we both looked away.

Thank you, Jesus.She was safe. For now.

As my entire body flooded with relief, a simmering coil of anger right under my ribs flared hotter.

I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew these assholes were messing with her head, and since I couldn't touch her, I couldn't break through.

I needed to fucking touch her.

It felt like I was sweatingundermy skin.

While Bridget slipped into the chair next to Jeremy, the lawyers spoke quietly, testing the sound, making sure the camera was correctly framed.

When Jeremy leaned over and whispered something in her ear, and Bridget went still, I froze.

For a split second, every dark, violent tendency I’d ever had rushed out of the cave where I’d stuffed it and roared to the surface.

I’d put a tracker on his car one night when he was working late and use it to follow him. I only needed one night when he got out on an empty street, or parked outside his house. Just a few seconds in the dark when he was preoccupied with something else and I could slip up behind him and cut off his air—

“Mister Priestley,” the Court Reporter’s voice broke through my reverie. I was sweating. She didn’t have a clue. “I understand you’ve chosen to give your oath on the bible. If you’d please place one hand on the Bible here and raise the other, we can get started.”

I did as she asked, breathing deep to calm my system.

“Do you solemnly swear or affirm that the testimony you shall give in this deposition will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

“I do.”

I turned back to the table to find Bridget staring at me, her eyes wide, drinking me in. Her eyes were gravity, pulling me in. The lawyer spoke again and I needed to focus, but something was wrong. I couldfeelit. Something was tearing her up and she wasn’t talking about it. A quiet Bridget was a dangerous one. Usually to herself.

As I answered the opening questions by rote—my name, address, my time in prison—I barely heard the words because she was still staring and even though I forced myself to keep my eyes on the lawyer, I could feel her gaze on me like lasers raking down my cheek.

She needed me. The question was, did she know it? Was she getting ready to flee? Orworse?

Every night I was plagued by fears of her losing her shit and putting herself out as bait to those sick fucks again. My mind conjured images of her on dark streets or in shadowy parks, running from some psycho who didn’t know anything except his own animal instincts and—

“Mister Priestley?”

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