Page 32 of Prey for You

Damn.

“Can we just get this out of the way, please?” I sighed. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I need a nap.”

“What kept you awake?”

Sam, looming over me, his entire body hard, like carved marble, as he fought not to climax and pushed me closer and closer to—

I swallowed hard and looked down so Gerald wouldn’t catch the thought. “Let’s cut to the chase,” I muttered. “Christmas sucks because that’s when my dad turned into a monster. I get afraid when I hear the music or see the decorations. But Dad’s in jail now and they aren’t letting him out unless he’s in a coffin. IknowI’m safe. So…” I shrugged.

Gerald’s brows popped up. “Do you?”

“Logically, yes. If Dad was coming for me he would have done it by now.”

“Are you sure?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do youwantme to question that?”

“No, I want you to see that what you’re experiencing is complex post-traumatic stress disorder. When the Christmas season happens your brain receivesallthe same stimulus it did in the weeks before and during everything that happened to you. So even though you might notconsciouslythink about it, your body believes that the Bad Thing is about to happen. Again. That’s why you feel afraid.”

“We covered this. Iknowmy father is in prison. And he can’t kill my mother again.”

“But he could still kill you—in theory.”

“That’s comforting, Gerald.Thanks.”

He grimaced. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. Let me try again: You said you want to cut the bullshit. So let’s do that: Theonlyway your body willeverstop being convinced that this season is a danger to you is to face the threat.”

“I did that when I was seven. Still here! Wow!” I spat. “I can’t believe you want make me kiss and make up with thatmonster.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Gerald said in a low, disapproving tone. Then he leaned forward in his seat and locked eyes with me. “Bridget, you hit crisis this year, and it took you somewherereallydark. I hate that. I hate that we almost lost you. But the things that pushed you there aren’t getting better unlesssomethingchanges. I did my homework—you know that. I visited him like you asked. I’ve assessed him,and trust me, I came at it believing he’s a manipulative bastard. And he is. He’s also not able to reach you. I’m convinced the answerfor youis to go see him. You don’t have to like him. You don’t have to bond with him. You don’t even have to speak to him. I’m not asking you to reunite you’re family. I’m telling you, your bodyneedsyou to see him. To show yourself that he’s not the threat to you that he once was. He still lives as a specter in your head of the man he was when you were seven years old. I bet in your memories he'shuge.”

I glared.

Gerald didn’t look away. “Your dad is only five foot nine. Did you know that? He’s also pretty old now, and he’s been sick. If you went to see him, you could see for yourself that he’s not the hulking monster of your childhood memories.”

“Ihatethat idea.”

Gerald raised his hands. “I’m just saying… you’re still a few weeks from the worst of the triggers for your C-PTSD. It won’t get easier than it is now to see him—”

“Do you get off on this?” I snapped. “Is that your kink, Gerald? You like making women afraid? Does it make you feelstrong?”

He gave me a flat look, but kept talking like I hadn’t spoken. “If you’re looking for a way to free yourself from this constant cycle, seeing him and realizing he’s flesh and blood like everyone else—not to mention that you’re much stronger than you were then—is going to help. I’ll go with you. I’ll hold your hand if that would help. But I think—”

“Why? So he can get pissed off when I don’t want toreuniteand threaten to have some thug kill me if I don’t keep coming to visit? Or tell me about whatever fucked up surveillance he’s been keeping with those gorillas that work for him so I get to dream about that at night too? That’s not going to help, G. And frankly, I’m disappointed in you—I thought you wanted mesafe.”

“Ah, see, Bridget, that’s the difference between you and me: I already know you’re safe. What I want is youhealthy.”

“You can’t know that.”

“I can know it better than you do because I’m objective.”

My entire body went tight. “How many times do I have to say no? Is there an extra charge I can pay to remove the ads for my nightmares?”

“Bridget—”

“No, Gerald. The answer isno.I’ve got enough shit going on without addinghimto the pile. And I am sick of talking about it. Now, I’ve had zero sleep, and I don’t have any more energy for this conversation. I met the terms, I showed up. You know I’m alive and not avoiding you. So I’m leaving now.”

I pushed out of the couch and started for the door. Gerald didn’t jump up, but he did sigh.

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