Page 157 of Prey

Oh, fuck. How long had he been using her to spy on me?

“She moved into my apartment building because you told her to, didn’t she?”

He confirmed my guess when he nodded. “But she was too much of a bitch to you, and couldn’t keep a close enough eye on you. What a useless cunt. I should have fucking killed her when I had the chance.”

I blinked, trying to get over my shock. I didn’t like Angelica, but I didn’t want anything to happen to her either.

He shifted a bit, and I flinched, aware of every little movement he made. “I’m not yours. I don’t even know you anymore.”

And that was the truth. Seven years was a long time for a person to change. I had changed. It seemed Brent had changed—for the worse by the looks of it.

Or perhaps he hadn’t changed. Perhaps this was who he had always been, and I just didn’t see it.

“But you are mine,” he said. “You’ve been mine since you proposed, and I accepted.”

I frowned. “I didn’t propose…”

My voice trailed off as another memory came through.

“You mean when I was fourteen? And you were twenty-four?”

I had been a kid, and he had been a full-fledged adult, but he had accepted at the time.

He told me he would marry me.

I blinked. “That doesn’t count.”

I knew that was the wrong thing to say when his face darkened. “Oh, yes, it does. I brought you here so we could get married, but you were defiant, even back then. You tried to fight me off.”

I had to remind myself to stay standing. That I had to be ready to make a run for it, otherwise I would have fallen over from the shock of his statement.

“That was you? You abducted me.”

He shook his head. “You came willingly, remember? I didn’t fucking abduct you.”

I nodded as more memories rose. Of him giving me a black Baccara rose and suggesting we go somewhere fun.

I had been excited because I had a crush on him, and for the first time, it felt like he was paying attention to me, not my dad.

I remembered him telling me he wanted to take me away from my family after we got married because… how fuckingromanticwould it be—his words.

That was when I fought him, and he slapped me, and then…

A stranger showed up.

Someone who saved me.

I couldn’t remember what that stranger looked like, but he was warm and nice, and the panic rising in my chest quieted as soon as he appeared.

“Do my parents know?” I asked, my heart feeling like it was breaking.

He nodded. “Your dad suggested I leave California. If I had the choice, I would never have left you, but your dad’s career was taking off, and he could have sent me to jail for a very long time. I couldn’t abandon you that way.”

He was talking like I didn’t want him to go to jail. I wished he had.

“I would have killed your bastard dad if we didn’t need his connections. But then the fucking King’s Men became more powerful, and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it from my exile in Chicago. Leaving the Brotherhood to my useless cousins was obviously a mistake. They wouldn’t be able to tell their assholes from their fucking mouths without me.”

“Brotherhood?” I asked. “You mean the Mansen Brotherhood? The Mansen brothers are your cousins?”

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