Page 172 of Prey for You

Gerald nodded. “You’re a good man, Sam,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’ve seen a lot of men in this kind of place. And they’re either impatient, or defensive. For you to be here for her—especiallyhere—that’s… that’s impressive.”

“I told you, I want to help.”

“I know. But a lot of people say that, only a few really do it.”

“You do it too,” Sam rumbled. “You’ve helped both of us.”

Gerald gave a self-deprecating smile. “The last few months have been humbling for me. I’m grateful you’ve given me the chance to try and make up for my… errors.”

I rolled my eyes. “Maybe you two should get a room? This bromance makes my skin crawl.”

Gerald frowned, but I felt Sam chuckle quietly. “So spicy when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not spicy, I’mfreaking out.”

“You’re doing great, Bridget,” Gerald said calmly. “If you’re ready to go inside, I’ll head out to the parking lot. I’ll wait out there. If you need me, you call me. If you don’t, you just leave and go home. I’ll do whatever helps, okay?”

I nodded. That was the plan—Gerald was here to handle the details to get us inside and make sure all the right circumstances were in place. Sam was here to be my bodyguard and emotional support beast while I faced down my monster. Then Gerald would be available to assess me if me or Sam thought I needed it after.

I wouldn’t need it after. I wasn’t even sure I could do this. But before I could say that, Sam said, “Don’t get stuck in your head. Come on.”

He stepped past me, taking my hand and tugging me to that doorway. He paused with his hand on the handle and looked back at me.

“You ready?”

I shook my head. He squeezed my hand. “We’ll give it a try. You say the word. And if he’s a bastard, we go. This is your call, Bridget. I mean that.”

I nodded and Sam squeezed my hand tighter as he opened the door, then led me through, letting it swing closed and latch behind us, then drawing me over to that table.

I grew tenser and more lightheaded with every step.

Twenty-minutes later, Sam sat on the bench on this side of that weird, metal table and I was on my feet behind him.

I couldn’t sit down. I had to move. That red line on the floor screamed at my peripheral vision, but what good did a painted line do to stop a pit bull? And why the fuck we were still waiting?

“This is a bad idea, we should go,” I muttered, chewing my thumbnail as I paced back and forth, eyeing the door that would get us out of here.

Sam sat sideways on the bench, one elbow on the table, watching me. He looked relaxed. How the fuck did he lookrelaxed?

“So, is that a real thing, or are you just venting? Because if it’s real, we’ll walk out. They’ll open that door the second we knock,” he said quietly. He caught my hand as I passed and pulled me up to stand between his knees, stroking my hair back off my face. “Say the word, Bridget. We’ll go.”

“Fucker,” I muttered.

He grinned and huffed. “A fucker who’s ready to walk you out of here the second you say so.”

“But then I have to do it again another time,” I said. And even though we weren’t talking about it, I hadn’t missed the way Sam flinched when they clanged those doors behind us.

He didn’t like being hereat all.But he came. For me. And he was smiling through it.

Shit.

Sometimes I felt like a child next to him.

“Babe, look at me.”

I was gnawing at the nail on my thumb and had to drop my eyes to look at him again. He gently pulled my hand out of my mouth, then held it in his.

“You’re in complete control here. Not him. You don’t have to answer questions if you don’t want to. You get to ask as many as you want. Or not even speak. The second you want to go, youturn around and walk to that door,” he tipped his head to indicate the door with the glass window in it, “and they’ll let you out. You don’t have to say goodbye. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Okay?”

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