Page 91 of Prey for You

So many of these men completely denied God, then blamed him when they were arrested and locked up.

“So, I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit.”

“No.”

“I can’t talk about the things that happened. You’re not getting a story from me. My case is still on appeal.”

I had to stop myself rolling my eyes. “Honestly, I’m a lot more interested in what’s happenedsincethen.”

He tipped his head. “You’re the one they’re accusing of trying to kill her.”

“They’re wrong.”

He huffed. “Sure they are.”

“They are. And I suspect you know that.”

His eyes got keen then. Until that moment I’d been talking to a tired, old man. But at that statement his eyes snapped to meet mine and I saw the predator that had always existed behind this man’s facade.

That was okay. I had one too. And right now, one on one, I’d bet on mine to win if it came to that.

His lips pulled very slightly towards a smile like he knew what I was thinking.

“Prisoner turned priest,” he muttered.

“I’m not a priest, I’m a—”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve had the sermon. I don’t care. Why are you here, Sam. I only said yes because I’m curious. You’ve had years of chances to talk to me. Why now?”

“Because of Bridget.”

“What the fuck would I know about Bridget? I haven’t seen her since she was twelve.”

“I think you have.”

“What you think means exactly jack shit to me. They’re saying you tried to kill her. Why the fuck do you think I’d help you?”

“Because I think you know I didn’t.”

He nodded slowly, not to agree with me, but like I’d affirmed something for him. I sat back in my chair and made the call not to hide anything.

“I read the letter,” I said bluntly.

He didn’t react at all. “The one she never answered?”

I nodded. “She’s scared. Because of you. And now she’s run away. I need to know where she might have gone. Any ofthe places you took her, or things that might have happened along the way that might be… significant.”

He frowned. “How the fuck should I know?”

“You were there when everything happened that makes her scared at this time of year.”

“So? It was twenty years ago. She hasn’t talked to me since she was a kid. I wouldn’t have a fucking clue where she goes when she’s on the run.”

I leaned my elbows on the table and sat forward with my hands clasped so he knew I wasn’t a threat. “Was the letter real?”

“You read it. Did it feel fucking real?”

“I meant were the things you said about wanting to apologize real? And the remorse? Or were they just words on paper to get something you wanted?”

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