Page 116 of Prey for You

Jeremy watched them go, then walked back to me, his face grim.

“Did you justflash your badge?”I asked him, incredulous. He’d always beenso clearthat he couldn’t do that unless he had an official reason.

“There’s a potential killer in the fucking forest and an agent who’s been reckless. Yes, I told the woman to get her family out of here, Bridget. I’d do the same to you, but that would just make you run back in, right?”

His tone wasn’t as sharp now, but his teeth were clenched and… his face had gone pale.

“You’re overreacting,” I muttered.

He stopped one pace from me, shaking his head. “Your compass forreactingis so off-course, that statement is laughable.”

“Stop being an asshole—”

“There’s thatstellarcompass again—tell me whatnotbeing an asshole looks like, so I can be clear next time?”

I scowled at him. “Leaving me alone when I’m not doing anything wrong is a good start.”

“Alone? Leaving you alone? Is this another joke? The last two times I left you alone you almost got yourself killed”

“If you cared about me—”

“Let’s define terms, Bridget, so I can be sure I’m getting it right. You’re telling mecaringis leaving you to swan dive off a fucking cliff?”

I shut my mouth and glared at him. “I’m not jumping offanything.I hiked for a few hours in a park.”

“Leaving your phone at home,” he spat.

“Because I didn’t want anyonehanging over my shoulder,”I said pointedly. “But you still found a way. Congratulations.”

He was breathing quickly, hands on his hips, still shaking his head and for a second he looked so tortured, I wondered if I’d actually broken him.

“Jeremy—”

“You don’t have a clue. You don’t have afuckingclue what I go through for you, Bridget.”

“You mean all those plaques on your wall and the newspaper articles about thereal lifesecret agent cleaning up the Pacific Northwest?Poor Special Agent Haines, it’s so hard to be celebrated!”

“That is such bullshit.”

“No, Jeremy, this is bullshit,” I said, flipping fingers between the two of us. “I wouldn’t fight you if you were right. I fightforthe good guys—and we used to do thattogether.You used tobethe good guys! I was handing you the bad ones, remember? You and your fucking closure rates and promotions and whatever the fuck else you get for grabbing these assholes. You wouldn’t have even found them without me and now you’re sayingI’mthe problem—”

“It wasyour fucking idea!”He was panting, his shoulder rising and falling and his eyes wild. Fear jangled through me, but he struggled, wrestled, pulled himself together.

When he spoke again he’d stopped yelling and dropped his voice to a low hush. “You can dance around it all you want, Bridget. But we’re herefor you.We’re herebecause of you.And while I’m scrambling to do my job, you’re treating me likeI’mthe fucking criminal.”

“Feels pretty shitty, doesn’t it?” I shot back.

“God!” He clawed his hands like he wanted to shake me, but didn’t touch me. Both hands plunged into his hair instead. “It’s like talking to a brick wall!”

“I’m familiar with the experience,” I muttered.

“Bridget…Bridget, please!”he pleaded. I blinked.

He wasn’t raging, he looked… scared? “What?” I asked uncertainly.

“This thing you do… this edge you walk… it doesn’t have to be like this. We can protect you. We can give you whatever fucking experience you want—you don’t have to go to these pricksfor… whatever it is you think you’re getting out of this. You want to get chased? You want to get taken down? We can do that—I have a dozen guys that can do that. We’ll call it training. You don’t have to do this with thesemonsters!”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him thatmonsterwas my husband, but I knew I couldn’t risk it. I had to swallow that back and get my head straight.

---