Page 86 of Prey for You

I sent her a text acknowledging that and pleading with her to tell me she was okay.

Still nothing.

I was scared enough to leave a voicemail—we tried not to do that since it left a bigger digital trail. But I didn’t say anything important. Not even her name. Just told her to call me. But when I hung up the call, there was nothing.

By nine I was genuinely worried.

She was so angry about me checking in on her father. But she’d forgiven me, she said. She was tired and shaky, but so happy I was there.

Wasn’t she?

When she woke up alone, had she got in her own head and decided that this wasn’t going to work?

I didn’t think she would… but I’d thought she’d be grateful I found info on her dad, too, so…

As the night wore on I grew more and more agitated, until I wasn’t even laying down. I couldn’t. My head spun. I was texting her every half hour, and tried two more times to call. The phone rang, but went through to voicemail without answer.

We kept the phones completely silent, so it was possible she wasn’t looking at it and didn’t know I was calling… but I didn’t believe it.

She was in bad shape. It was the whole reason I’d risked going over there.

Shit.

Shit.

If we hadn’t had that pre-trial hearing—nothing but a show and sit, as my lawyers called it—I would have taken the risk of going back. But if she was angry, I’d only make it worse by forcing her to talk. So I made myself stay in my house and sleep. But I tossed and turned until dawn, then got up and texted her again, swearing when she didn’t respond.

I was early for meeting my lawyers to go to the Courthouse, and impatient with them to get us there.

The moment we walked into that sterile room, I searched every seat and face, but there was only a handful of people there outside the staff. And Bridget wasn’t one of them.

Her attorneys were though.

When the Judge entered and Bridget still hadn’t arrived, my heart was in my throat and my hands shook.

I wanted to scream when her lawyers told the Judge she was unwell and couldn’t attend.

Was she sick?

Did she need me?

I wasfreaking out.So agitated and tense that I didn’t hear a damn word that was said during those motions.

Then we left and I panicked. She hadn’t shown. She wasn’t going to. And I didn’t know why.

I was her fucking husband and I didn’t know where she was. But those smug assholes on the other side of the aisle did.

As we walked out of the courtroom, ahead of us in the hallway I saw Jeremy peel off from their legal team and push into one of the public bathrooms. Thank God my lawyers were too busy talking about the motions to notice.

When we drew level with that door, I told them I needed a minute and pushed the bathroom door open before they’d even answered.

Jeremy was just leaving the urinal when I walked in.

For second, in my head, I was back in prison, scanning a bathroom for possible threats, keeping my back to the wall, my body humming with adrenaline.

Jeremy didn’t look up when I walked in, but when he turned towards the sink, he caught sight of me and froze for half a beat, before trying to act like he hadn’t been taken off-guard and taking the last steps to the sink.

“If you wanted to compare weapons, you’re out of luck. I have a concealed carry license,” he muttered, turning on the water at the sink to wash his hands, but his eyes stayed on me in the mirror.

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