Page 64 of Prey for You

ME: You think we’d be talking?

SAM NOTPRIEST: Stop. I can’t get hard in a conference room. I’m trying to prove I’m NOT a pervert.

ME: I miss you, my favorite vanilla man.

SAM NOTPRIEST: I ache for you, Bridget.

Ugh, just reading that mademeache too. I was busily tapping a response, trying to find words that would be reassuring, but Jeremy made a noise, and I instinctively looked up to find him glaring at me in the rearview mirror.

“What?” I muttered. Then I caught sight of the street ahead of us and frowned. “This isn’t the way to my house.”

“That’s because we aren’t going to your house, Bridget. Seriously? Did you forget that we have a legal requirement to make sure your head is on straight? Of course, I plan to hand you your ass at the same time.”

“You said we weredebriefing.We’ve always done that at my house,” I insisted. Jeremy didn’t scare me, but the system did.

“Well, this time we’re doing it at the office.”

“Why?”

We were pulling up to a red light, and Jeremy hit the brake a little harder than strictly necessary so all three of us swayed forward in our seats. Then he gripped the steering wheel and used it to turn himself around in his seat to glare at me without the distance of the mirror.

He was livid—jaw tight, eyes afire, and his grip so tight on the steering wheel his knuckles were white and the tendons stood up on the back of his hand.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Why can’t we debrief at my place?”

The clone looked back and forth between me and Jeremy, obviously uncomfortable.

Jeremy scoffed. “Because,” he snarled through his teeth. “We just learned you’re married to the fucking accused. Don’t you get it, Bridget? You just changed the wholefuckinggame.”

“You’re just pissed because I was able to keep the secret,” I snapped back.

“Are you twelve? Seriously, Bridget, I knew you were messed up, but this is bad, even for you. What’s next? Will you go back to the serial killer?”

I wanted to punch him for that. Ofeveryone,he knew how much that guy had freaked me out. Ofeveryone,he understood better.

But I couldn’t say anything because the clone was there, so I just stared it at him.

You fucking bastard. You self-serving cunt.

Jeremy’s jaw tightened—maybe there was a flash of conscience in there after all—and he dropped his tone. “Look, whatever,” he muttered, turning back to the front as the light changed back to green. “We have a lot of ground to cover. The lawyers need to change strategy. There’s a lot. And like I said, we have to make sure you aren’tdetrimentally affected.”

“You detrimentally affect me every day and they don’t care.”

Jeremy sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Bridget, that is such bullshit—”

“Take me home. I’m going home, then I’m going to see my husband.”

“The fuck you are,” Jeremy snapped in a voice so low and dark, my adrenaline spiked.

I glared at him in the rearview mirror and he glared back. “You’re lifting that stupid restraining order and—”

“I’m filing forno-contact.He is clearly influencing you—”

“Don’t youdare.No! Absolutely fucking not—”

“Fuckingyes.Dear God, Bridget. What is going on in your head? You call me in to take this guy down, thenmarryhim?!”

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