Wrong (#1) Read Online Free Book L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Wrong Series by L.P. Lovell
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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I hear the chains rattle, and a weak groan echoes through the room. I can’t look up at Bob.

“I was only thinking of you, Jude,” Bob rasps. “She makes you weak. We’re family!”

The room seems to drop by five degrees, and it has nothing to do with the temperature. Jude goes deathly still, and that is far scarier than any words he could possibly say. He moves toward Bob with a deadly grace that has me in awe of him. He stops in front of him and grabs his jaw.

“You disobeyed me.” His voice is a low rumble, full of menace. “And you disrespected me. Family or not, you will pay.”

“She’ll ruin you!” Bob whispers, his chains clanging together once again.

“Shut the fuck up!” Jude snarls, clenching and releasing his fists. He turns and I think he’s going to walk away, but suddenly he spins around, his fist smashing into the side of Bob’s face. I instinctively recoil from the show of violence and power, but I’d be lying if I said that I don’t want Bob to suffer; I do.

He turns away and moves to stand in front of me. His large frame towers over me, blocking out everything but him. He holds my chin gently between his fingers, and it’s such a strange sensation—amidst all his rage, his touch is gentle.

“Sometimes two wrongs make a right.” His eyes narrow, and it’s as though he’s trying to convince me of this. “Trust me, nothing is more healing than making someone who hurt you bleed. Justice doesn’t know how to play fair.” His eyes flick briefly to the blade in my hand. “This is the only way I know how to help you, Tor,” he whispers, and there’s remorse in that statement, I can hear it.

There’s the slightest vulnerability in his eyes, and despite my instant revulsion at his methods, I almost understand them. He wants to help me, he just doesn’t know how. I don’t know if I can even be helped at this stage, but the fact that he wants to try touches on something that it really shouldn’t. Maybe my mind is so fucked up that I can’t tell right from wrong anymore, enemies from friends, because right now, Jude doesn’t seem like the enemy, and that’s dangerous.

A low moan floats through the air. “I would have been doing you a favor by killing her,” Bob pants.

Any softness in Jude’s eyes disappears, and an icy rage covers his features. He grabs my hand, taking the knife from me. Every step he takes echoes off the walls in the empty room.

“Unchain him,” Jude orders, and Caleb scurries over. I watch as he unfastens the shackles and Bob drops to the concrete floor with a muffled thud.

Jude circles around him, literally stalking him like a wounded deer. The blade every so often glints under the flickering light.

“Get up!” Jude shouts hoarsely.

Bob lays there.

“Get”—Jude reaches down and yanks Bob to his feet—“up!”

Bob languidly shrugs. “What ya gonna do? Kill me? Your father would be disgusted with you,” he spits.

The guy must have a death wish. Maybe he already knows his time is up, no point in dragging it out, I guess. I can relate to that. I’ve felt that. He made me feel that.

Jude shakes his head and slashes the knife across Bob’s stomach in one quick movement. Blood pours from the wound, and Bob screams. I usually shun away from violence, but somehow I find myself fascinated by the blood, reveling in Bob’s screams. I want him to suffer and I want him to die, because that’s the only way I will ever be able to close my eyes and not see his sick, twisted grin as he butchered my body.

“You gonna fight me?” Jude asks. “Or do you realize you’re just that fucking worthless?”

Bob says nothing.

Jude grabs his hair, violently jerking his head back. He’s walking him over to me. Oh, my God! What is he doing?

“You tell her you’re sorry.” Jude shoves him in front of me, and Bob falls to his knees, Jude’s hand still gripping his hair. “Tell her you are a worthless piece of shit!”

Bob’s groaning in pain. The blood is pooling right in front of my bare feet, and I take a step back.

“Tell her!” Jude shouts, his voice booming around the room.

“I...I’m, I’m sorry,” Bob grovels.

“Tell her how worthless you are.”

Bob inhales several times. “I’m worthless…”

Jude kicks him in the back and Bob falls forward, his face smacking the cold concrete. “Do better than that!”

“Jude!” I shout. He looks up at me, his lips pressed into a hard line. “Stop,” I say quietly. I shake my head, but he’s too far gone. This isn’t about me anymore. This is about him, and whatever demon he has riding his back.

He wipes his hand down his face, pacing behind Bob as he nods his head. He drops to a crouch beside Bob and flips him over, pinning him to the floor by his throat. His face is focused and determined as he squeezes Bob’s throat, watching as the man coughs and fights him. This is when Jude is at his most terrifying, not because he looks crazy, quite the opposite; he’s so controlled, fully aware of what he’s doing.


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