Page 38 of Prey for You

I was getting tenser. We’d known this was coming. My lawyers couldn’t object to the questions about the practice or my activities because, they said, it went to motive and proclivity. But they’d encouraged me to be as clear and thoughtful as I could, to look for ways to make sure I gaveallthe information, including hammering home that the womenwantedmy attention in this way.

“I rarely leave a successful hunt without scratches and bruises, as I said.”

“Anything more serious?”

“I’ve sprained wrists and knees. Scratched a cornea once,” I said reluctantly.

“And yourclients?”

“Much the same. But part of our preparationbeforea hunt is that we establish an aftercare protocol. I will not hunt a woman who hasn’t already collected a substantial first-aid kit—one that I outline and require her to collect before I’ll move forward. It covers more than the simple things. When we’redone, either I will patch them up, or if we’ve been separated by events, they are required to send me videos of the care they gave themselves, and we’ll discuss whether we need to change our plan for future hunts.”

“So, you’d hunt them more than once?”

“Usually.”

“It’s a yes or no question, Mr. Priestley.”

“No, it’s not,” I growled and I saw Bridget blink—that was Cain’s voice. My stomach churned. “Every client is different,” I explained through my teeth. “Most want to try it once, then debrief. We may change the plan for the next hunt—set stricter boundaries, or remove them as she grows in confidence. It’s all a process of communication and choices. And the power for those protocols isalwaysin her hands,” I said firmly.

The lawyer’s lips pursed like he was skeptical. “How tall are you Mister Priestley?”

“About six two.”

“Weight?”

“Two thirty, give or take.”

The lawyer nodded like I’d affirmed something important. “It’s obvious to me even in these clothes,” he said gesturing to the button down and slacks my lawyer insisted that I wear, “that you are fit, athletic man. Would you agree?”

“I do okay.”

“How big are the women youhunt?”

“That depends on the woman. I don’t measure them or weigh them, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, Mister Priestley, I’m asking you to outline for us the difference in size and strength between you and your clients. Would you say that most of the women you hunt are under five eight? Five eleven? Are they fat or thin? Fit?”

“Yes to all—it depends on the client,” I growl.

“Well then, let’s take an average—let’s assume your client is somewhere in the realm of five foot six and one hundred and fifty pounds. You are eight inches taller and almost one hundred pounds heavier—how likely is she to be able to escape you?”

“Objection, calls for speculation!”

I gave the man a flat look. “The purpose of what I do isn’t to escape,” I said through my teeth.

“Then what is it?”

I rubbed my jaw and held his gaze. “The answer willalwaysdepend on the mark.”

“You must have seen some patterns, surely? You’re an…” he looked back down at the paper to read something specific and my heart sank. “An experienced Primal Domseeking real life prey.Is that correct?”

I waited for the objection—this was what we’d feared. If they asked me outright if I was Cain—an online persona who had undertaken criminal activity—I could plead the fifth. And they knew it. But if they found a way to tie me to informationaboutCain that they could provide in evidence…

Shit.

“That would accurately categorize what I was doing, yes,” I said reluctantly.

The lawyer smiled like a shark.Dammit.“So, we have established that you are significantly larger and taller than yourprey,Mister Priestley. Now please, I need you to explain why a woman would intentionally engage you to hunt her?”

---