Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He looks at me again and nods. He turns to leave, but stops. “I shouldn’t have left you. I’m sorry.”
I don’t care what he has to say. The door clicks closed behind him and I get in the shower. I turn the water up as hot as it will go and stand underneath it. It burns my skin, and I relish the feeling of it.
When I step out of the shower, there’s a fresh towel as well as some jeans and a tank top left on the vanity. I’ve almost forgotten what normal clothes look like. I dry and change into the clothes.
When I walk into the bedroom, I find Jude sitting on the bed. His elbows rest on his knees, and his head is in his hands.
He’s topless, his eyes fixed on the bloodied shirt in his hands. The tattoos winding around his biceps seem to pop against his olive skin. He glances up when he notices me and drags a hand over his dark hair. “I thought you might want clothes,” he says quietly.
All I can do is stare at him.
“Are you not gonna talk?”
“What would you like me to say?”
He shakes his head and picks away some of the dried blood from his nails. “Something.” He hops up from the bed, putting his face close to mine. “You tried to fucking kill yourself, Tor. You should have something to fucking say.”
I watch him for a few seconds as he clenches his fists and a muscle in his jaw ticks.
“I have nothing to say to you,” I say quietly.
“Fuck!” he yells, turning away from me and stalking to the far side of the room. He slams his palm against the wall, keeping his back to me as he breathes heavily. There’s a long beat of silence. I don’t move. I don’t know what he’s going to do next.
“The man that killed my mother and sister,” he says, so quietly I barely hear him, “was Euan’s uncle. He wants me dead.” He turns to face me, leaning against the wall and lifting his eyes to mine. “I don’t believe in coincidences. I thought you were working with him.”
I frown. I should feel nothing for him and yet, my heart aches for him, for all that he’s lost. The loss of a mother is a tragic and heartbreaking one. “I’m sorry.” I whisper.
He shakes his head and drops his gaze to the floor. “He and my father had a ...disagreement, so he burned our house down with them inside it. On the one year anniversary of their death he sent my father a video of him raping and torturing them before he set the house on fire. I passed by my dad’s office when he was watching it.” Oh, my God. He’s breathing is heavy, his fists clenched. He can’t look at me. “I fall asleep every damn night hearing the screams from that video.” He speaks the words as though they are a dirty secret, an unwanted weakness.
I press my hand over my mouth as a choked sob escapes my throat. I should hate Jude. I should want nothing more than to kill him right now, but I don’t. I try desperately to cling to my rage, my hatred, the pain, because suddenly I feel sorry for him, and I don’t want to. I want to cry for the two women that are strangers to me. I feel as though we are bound in some way, victims of these monsters who pretend to be men.
“I will kill anyone that works with him, I promised my father I would, but you…” he swallows as his eyes rise to mine. “I never wanted to kill you, Tor. I just...I needed to be sure.” He pulls in a heavy breath and pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. I take an uneasy step back and he holds his hands out; slowly, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my neck. His eyes flick to the ugly mark across my throat and he squeezes his eyes shut. “I never should have left you.” his voice breaks.
His fingers brush across my cheek. “Joe is trying to use you, whether you know it or not.” I watch as anger masks his face, his green eyes becoming turbulent and volatile. “I will not let him do that. Not to you.”
I drop my gaze from his, unable to look at him. “You already did it.” I whisper. His hand slips from my cheek, and his head falls forward as his shoulders tense.
“I’m not like him.” I don’t know who he’s trying to convince more, me or himself.
“What happened to your family is horrible, but that doesn’t justify you doing the same to someone else. An eye for an eye. Is that how it works in your world?” My voice shakes as I try to control my emotions. I thought I was done feeling. I thought I was broken beyond repair, but I’m not. I’m still fucking here, and his bullshit justification for his actions isn’t enough.