Page 135 of Prey for You

My memories lookeddifferentnow.

Sam coming to me in the cabin, desperate to stay close. Bending over backwards to give me what I needed, even though his life was the one going to shit.

Sam telling me we’d get through this together and to hell with everyone else.

Telling me he’d get out.

Telling me I was the One.

Of course I was the fuckingOne,he was feeding me to my father. Who knew what arrangement they’d made?

All that talk of judgment, and Pearl-Clutchers, and the church, and Sam was lying toall of us.

Jeremy knew. He fucking knew. Of course he was scared and angry. Of course my resistance drove him crazy.

Of course Gerald…

Wait.

I turned my head to look at Gerald. “So, do you believe me now, about my dad? That he’s not harmless?”

Gerald sighed. “I never said he was harmless, Bridget. I said you needed to see that you were strong enough to face him. I still believe that. I still believe you’ll never be entirely free of his grip until you face him—but yes, I agree. This isn’t the time.”

I shook my head and he squeezed my shoulder. “You’re safe, Bridget. He didn’t do this. Don’t let your mind deflect blame.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No.”

I gaped at him. “Are you saying Samdidn’tmanipulate me?”

Gerald’s expression was grim. “I’m saying… Sam may also have been manipulated, we don’t know. What I do know after thirty years in this career is that sometimes we need to process and think and watch things play out a little before we make decisions. There’s obviously a lot more to this story andwecan’t figure that out now.Let’s talk when you’ve had some time to process. This is all happening too fast. We shouldn’t even be here.”

“I needed to be here,” I muttered. “I needed to see this.”

But the truth was, even though I didn’t feel like I was about to split apart at the seams like I had a couple hours ago, Ididfeel like I was in freefall.

Nothing I had thought for the past six months appeared to be true.

I couldn’t trustanyone.But most importantly, this was the second time in a row that I was learning I couldn’t trustmyself.First the serial killer, now this?

I turned back to the window and Gerald and I watched silently as Jeremy caught his breath and stumbled out of the room. I would have been worried about him, but he was smiling.

He wasso fucking smug.

Rage burned in my gullet, and not just because I’d thrown up several times today. But I was pushed off balance again by memories, snippets from that testimony today.

Abusers who exploit their victims, creating dependence and an inability to think independently.

Was that what he’d done to me?

Had Sam controlled me when I didn’t even know it?

Or had my father manipulated us both?

Was this Stockholm Syndrome?

Was my father the hostage-taker?

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