Page 176 of Prey for You

I had always thought my father stole my life from me. But somehow, he’d also been the one to give it back. If I never found Sam without him, Sam never would have stayed free if it weren’t for him.

Everything twisted up in my mind and I didn’t have the energy to unravel it. But I knew one thing: No matter what it had taken to get here… I didn’t regret it. And I didn’t want to go back.

I looked up at Sam again to find him staring down at me, concern wrinkling his brow and a question in his eyes.

“I’m ready to go,” I said.

And bless him, my husband immediately took my hand and turned towards the door, but I held back for a second and turned to my dad.

“Thank you,” I said, though the words grated on my teeth. “Thank you for leaving that note for Sam. Thank you for saving him.”

Dad blinked. “I did it for you.”

I inhaled sharply. “And that’s why I’m thanking you. I’m going to try and forgive you, Dad. I don’t know if I can do it. But I’m going to try.”

His eyes reddened. My throat pinched. I shook my head. “I honestly can’t tell you that I forgive you now. Ihateyou. But I am going to try, and I canthank youhonestly. Because if Sam wasn’t here, I don’t know where I’d be.”

Dad swallowed, then looked at Sam and nodded once. “I guess I say thanks, too, then.”

Sam looked uncomfortable, but nodded back, then turned to me. “You ready?”

“Yes,” I said. Then I turned my back on my father and walked out. And I never went back.

58. Here. Now.

~ SAM ~

I wasn’t exactly worried about her as we left the prison. After all, I’d watched her get stronger as she stood there, not weaker. But with Bridget I never quite knew what the fallout would be. How her mind might twist stuff—or enjoy it.

So, when we’d finally been escorted back through the rabbit warren of the prison offices, signed out, and been ushered out the last locked door, I took her hand and pulled her down that last hallway to the public waiting room, then outside into the sun, and I took a deep breath.

Being in the prison would never stop bothering me.

I’d also never stop doing it.

I knew what bondage felt like. I also knew freedom. Thank God, I knew freedom.

The gravel of the parking lot crunched under our feet as I led her briskly back to the car. Gerald’s car was at the back, but I couldn’t see him from here. I pulled my phone out.

“You okay?” I asked her quietly as I opened her car door for her.

She shrugged. “I think so,” she said. And she sounded surprised.

“Do you want to talk to Gerald?”

“No. Tell him I’m good.”

I shut her door when she got inside and trotted around to mine, texting him quickly before getting in and turning the key in the ignition immediately.

Once we were back on the highway, I took her hand and held it. She laced her fingers through mine and squeezed, but kept her face turned to the sun pouring in the window on her side.

“You sure you’re okay?” I asked her a couple miles later. “If you want to talk—”

“I’m sure,” she said, nodding, still not looking at me. Then she turned and smiled. “I don’t need my father, Sam. I don’t need Jeremy. Or the FBI. I don’t need any of that shit. I needyou.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” I huffed, turning back to the road. “If it was Jeremy, we might have had a few words.”

I still hated that guy. But I thought I understood him better now.

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