Page 63 of Prey

“When are we getting out of here?”

He eyed me curiously but didn’t answer.

“Do you have a plan? You really think we can hide out in this cabin forever?”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” he muttered.

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes at him.

His lips twitched.

“Movie?”

I opened my mouth to argue with him, but I was hit with a sudden weight of fatigue, I shook my head and closed my mouth.

“Sure. A movie,” I said instead.

He looked like he wanted to say something but changed his mind at the last minute.

I watched him as he moved to the TV.

“Roman?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“How did you get out of prison?”

If I hadn’t been watching, I wouldn’t have noticed the way he tensed over my question.

I suppose this was a test of sorts.

He told me he would never lie to me, so would he lie to me about this?

Him getting out of prison wasn’t legal because even though my memories of that night were fuzzy at best, I knew he had killed the man.

My recording proved as such.

I didn’t send the wrong man to prison.

He was guilty, but he was just let go on some evidence that had torn the video recording to shreds.

And since my identity was supposed to remain anonymous, the prosecuting attorney couldn’t just bring me out on the stand to testify, especially since I didn’t really see anything.

I was sure that if I had been a random woman off the street, I would have been forced to testify long ago, but there were some perks to being a judge’s daughter.

That also meant Roman had to be let go when new evidence came up.

The question was, how did it come up?

He stood up and turned toward me, his brown eyes taking me in intently.

I didn’t think he was going to answer me at all.

Perhaps he would try to distract me with sex.

He surprised me when he said, “A man confessed to the murder right before he took his own life.”

I frowned. “But… You killed him, right?”

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