Page 80 of Prey for You

“But—”

“Bridget… he doesn’t know.”

I nodded, but I didn’t feel easy about it. “How long ago did you ask them?”

“A couple weeks? Three? It was a week or two after you showed me the letter.”

I exhaled and took another step back from him. “You’ve been keeping this a secret this whole time?!”

“I was waiting for the right time to talk to you—when you didn’t feel afraid or… or… I don’t know. Something? I tried to raise it a couple times but you didn’t want to talk about him. So I thought maybe that was better for you not to have to. But Bridge… you’re getting worse, not better. And I can’t be here all the time. If I could be here to help, I would. But… I’mworried.”

It was like being torn into two pieces. I knew he was telling me the truth. I knew he cared. Heloved me.I knew he wanted to help—and I knew he was careful with people. Especially me.

But there was a part of me that feltbetrayed.Like he was keeping secrets with other peopleabout me. And even if he did keep it all quiet, what if one of his friendswasn’tas discreet as him? What if they said something to my dad and he wrote me again?

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe.

“Bridget?”

My heart raced. I shook my head and stormed past him, down the hallway, towards my room.

“Bridget, slow down. Talk to me.”

“I can’t. I don’t know… There’s no… I don’t know what to say!”

Alarms screamed in my head.

If Dad figured out I was having someone ask questions, he’d know he might get closer to me. Even if he was dying, even if he was remorseful, I didn’t have it in me right now to face that. I couldn’t!

“Bridget—please!”

I’d just stepped into my bedroom when Sam caught my arm and pulled me around to face him. His eyes were wide and hisface open—fearful. But when he saw me, his forehead pinched into lines and he sagged.

“Babe… I’m so sorry. Don’t cry. Please…don’t cry.”He pulled me into his chest, whispering, holding me.

And even though I was angry, being in his arms, smelling his smell, hearing his voice rumble against my ear… all of it was everything I wanted every second he wasn’t here.

I broke down and clung to his trim waist, burying my face in his chest. Sam wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, cupping the back of my head and leaning his cheek on my hair.

“Don’t cry, Bridget. I’m sorry I scared you. I was really careful, I promise…” His voice was deep, but quiet, vibrating in his chest under my ear and against my cheek. “I’m here, babe.I’mhere. Not him. You don’t need to be afraid. If he showed up—if anyone showed up coming for you, I’d kill them. You know that, right? You have to know that. I’m here… babe, I’m here…”

I nodded, sniffing, wiping my face on his chest because I was embarrassed that I was crying again. But it feltso goodto be in his arms and to hear his voice in person.

Then he cupped my face and pulled my chin up to make me look at him.

“Bridget,” he breathed. “I’m sorry I scared you. Do you believe me?” I nodded, but my tears increased. He wiped them away with his thumbs, his expression crumpling into grief. “What do you need, babe? Tell me what it is. I’ll do it.”

I couldn’t help it, even through the tears I laughed. “You, Sam,” I breathed. “I just needyou.Please… just… be with me.”

His forehead lines deepened like he was trying to figure out if that was real. So I made the decision for him.

Pushing up on my toes, I reached for his head and pulled him down into a kiss—and the moment our lips touched, I whimpered with relief.

I kissed him first—he was a little taken aback. But when I slipped my tongue between his lips and slid it against his, he groaned, and shuddered.

And then he kissed me back. Deep, and hard.

ThankGod.

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