Page 27 of Prey for You

It hurt to breathe. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

She shrugged. “I don’tfeellike that’s true. But sometimes… sometimes you’re too good to be true, Sam. And that scares the fuck out of me. I told you—I misjudgedeverything.I got us here. If here is a ruse… well, I suppose I deserve it.”

Fear jangled through me. I hadn’t seen her like this before. Usually when things got tense, or someone attacked, she fought. She was the one with the clever mind and the smart mouth and…

“Talk to me,” I murmured, rubbing her arms. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She gave me a look like I was stupid. “Youknowwhat’s going on!”

“But why is it hitting harder now?”

She hacked a humorless laugh. “Because I’m fallingdeeplyin love with you, Sam. Every fucking second you get better and this… this thing we have gets more and more incredible—and that makes what I did worse. I haven’t moved or changed, and I’m gettingworse.Because you’re…you.”

“You’ve got to stop looking at it like—”

“Sam, if you go to prison because of me, I will literally never forgive myself,” she breathed, and her lower lip trembled. “You don’t deserve it, and it will bemy fault.”

I sucked in a deep, ragged breath. “Not to go full-priest on you, Bridget but… that’sexactlywhat Jesus did for me. He took it. All the wrong I did. All the prison—all the death—I deserved. He didn’t deserve it, and He took it. And now… now that lets me do the same for you.”

Her lips tight like she wanted to argue, but then she turned her head and put her temple down on her arms, staring at the foggy glass.

“Don’t even get me started on howpissedGod must be with me for doing this to you,” she murmured.

And I laughed.

She blinked, then lifted her head again, frowning. “That’s funny to you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because… God’s so much bigger than this, Bridge. Trust me. Miracles are mundane for Him. If He wants me out of this, nothing can stop that.”

“But what if he doesn’t? What if this is some kind of punishment, or—”

“That’s not how this works, Bridget.”

She gave me a flat look. “I get that I’m no priest, but I’m also not dumb. That’s thewhole thing.Vengeful God punishing people who do wrong, throwing us all into hell, right?”

I shook my head and took a heavy breath. I had this conversation multiple times per week with the guys in the prison, and it never ceased to make me sad.

God’s PR was for shit.

“No, Bridget. The Jesus story isn’t retribution—it’s the opposite. A God who loved so much He gave up His son—Hisperfectson—to take the punishment you and me deserved for all the bad thingsso He could keep us.”

Her eyes grew tight. I leaned closer. “Let’s say they convict me—”

Her shoulders tensed, but I held onto her and made her keep listening.

“—now imagine, the judge who says I broke the law tells me how many years I’m getting. But then says I’mfree to gobecause she’s going to jail to do that time for me.That’sGod. He didn’t judge me, Bridge. He made mefree.”

Her forehead wrinkled into lines. “But if you get convicted for this, it’sunfair.You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Bad example maybe. Think of that happening thelasttime I got convicted.”

“Like my dad?” she bristled. “God lets monsters like my dad off?”

I shook my head. “Not unless he understands what he did. Not unless he turns away from the stuff that took him to that place. We still pay consequences for our actions here, Bridge. But if me, or your dad, or anyone elselearns.If the remorse is real—and they understand thatonly Jesuscan take away the stain of those awful things, then yeah. They’re forgiven. And God made a way for that to happen while they were still monsters.”

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