Page 87 of Prey for You

“Where is she?” I said without preamble.

Jeremy huffed. “You don’t get to know that.” He shook his hands then walked to the dispenser for a paper towel

Pride andrageroared in my chest. But I knew how bad this could go if I did it wrong, so I made myself swallow my pride and just locked eyes with him when he turned to face me.

“If you don’t know, then fuckingwake up.She’s struggling.Bad.She could be in very real danger. You don’t have to tell me what she’s told you, but you fucking find her and make sure she’s not getting hurt.”

Jeremy’s face was stoic, expressionless. “I’m not worried.”

I narrowed my eyes. “All those big words about protecting her and being her friend? She’s notsick.She’sout of her mind.And you’re just going to leave her hanging out to dry because you don’t care enough to find her?”

Jeremy’s lips tipped up on one side. “Who said anything about not caring? You’re just not in the know, you piece of shit.”

“I don’t give two fucks what you think you know—”

Jeremy’s hand snapped into his suit jacket where I was sure he gripped a weapon. I froze.

“Listen, idiot,” he ground out. “You don’tknow her.I do. I’ve known her since she was a kid. Shealwaysdisappears at this time of year. A few weeks later, she comes back. We knew it was going to happen and we’re handling the fallout.Forher.”

I blinked, staring at him, head spinning. Was he telling the truth? Would she have just left without talking to me about it?

She was struggling.

She was angry.

She knew I wouldn’t be coming back to visit for a while.

It tracked.

Shit.

Jeremy shook his head, but strode towards me then reached for the door behind me. “Sucks being out of control, and out of the know when you care about someone, doesn’t it?” he muttered as he passed me, then walked out.

And dammit… it did.

But it sucked more that heknewthat.

28. Come Home

SOUNDTRACK:Lighthouseby Adette and Jamie Macneal

~ SAM ~

I went home and got online. I’d avoided looking up her past because I knew how skewed the media was, so I’d only ever wanted to judge her story based on how she perceived it. But even though I knew her story now, there were so many details I felt like I was missing. Maybe there was a clue about where she disappeared to?

She wouldn’t be the first victim to feel compelled to return to the places she’d been harmed. Or maybe… I didn’t know what I thought I would find, but once I was digging I wanted to punch myself. And shake her a little, too.

Today was the anniversary of her mother’s death. And she hadn’t even mentioned it last night. Oh, she’d talked about feeling scared—I’d held her for a long time just to help her relax. But it had all been big, vague ideas of the time of year and triggers and a general sense of weariness.

And I’d believed her.

But here we were. Twenty years agotodayshe watched her father shoot her mother. And she didn’t tell me.

I hadn’t made the connection because her father wasn’t arrested until well after Christmas, which was when the case gotattention. I always associated the new year with this shit because it was early in the year when he was all over the news.

But I should have known. He’d kept her on the run for weeks. And it all startedtoday.

And then I found it… an old story that had a picture. They’d done a good job of keeping her out of the public eye, which was surprising for twenty years ago. But then I clicked on a story and there was one shot. It didn’t show her face. Just this tiny little girl walking between two very large police officers—one a plain clothes detective, according to the caption. The other a uniformed officer.

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