Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"Fuck!" Jude groans, his thrusts becoming faster, less controlled. His body tenses, his face falling slack as he comes inside me. His body shudders and trembles as he rests his forehead against my chest. All I can hear is his ragged breaths mixed with my pounding heartbeat. I did it. We did it.
I don't know that I will ever be free of Joe's grip, but with Jude by my side, I will fight him every step of the way.
I sit on the porch staring out at the mountains. My life feels like a tornado, changing from one direction to the other in the blink of an eye, but whichever way it goes, there's always destruction. There's always an issue lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to think I'm okay, and then pounce.
I'm better, things are better. After Joe, I wasn't sure I would ever be able to say that, but in his own way, Jude is slowly fixing me. He makes me feel whole, as though perhaps I'm not the shattered mess that Joe sought to destroy. And this brings a whole new set of issues.
I glance down at my stomach, which is now just starting to form a small bump. For the last few weeks, it's been a null and void point, something I could barely think about or comprehend myself. I still haven't come to terms with it, but I feel guilty because Jude has been nothing but supportive. He's helped me, protected me. I owe him the truth. I should tell him, but I can't. I just... my gut tells me that now is not the right time. I'm worried that if I tell him now, he'll walk away from Joe, and I can't live with that. I need Joe dead, for both our sakes. He's like a shadow looming over us, threatening to ruin everything at any given time. I need to pull the trigger myself. I can't explain why, but when someone takes so much from you, the only thing I believe can truly cleanse me, is to take something from him. His life.
If I tell Jude I'm pregnant, he won't let me go after Joe.
No. I need to wait until we find Joe, and then I'll tell him.
I'm done waiting. I need action. I need to do something. I get up from my seat on the porch and make my way back inside the house. Once in the bedroom, I open the bedside table and pull out the nine millimetre that I found in Caleb's bedside table.
I can point a gun and shoot it, but I want to know how to shoot to kill. I want to be as good as Jude. I want to be able to defend myself without being a liability. I refuse to be weak when I come face to face with Joe.
I move back through the cabin until I come to Jude's office. I push the door open without knocking. He glances up at me briefly.
"Teach me to shoot," I say, placing the weapon down on the desk. Jude's eyes move over the gun before rising to my face and narrowing. He smirks, holding back a laugh, but I hold his gaze, refusing to back down.
He raises an eyebrow. "Where did you find that?" He picks it up and sets it on his lap.
"This house is full of guns," I answer flatly. I don't want him to know where I got it, although I'm sure he already does. This is Jude after all. "Now, teach me to shoot."
He pulls back the top of the gun, and a bullet clicks into the chamber. He watches me carefully, his elbows resting casually on the desk. Finally, he leans back in his chair, taking a pack of cigarettes from a drawer. He places one to his lips and holds a lighter to it as he inhales. The lighter snaps shut, and he exhales a thick cloud of smoke, his eyes meeting mine once again.
"Okay." He stands up, his enormous frame unfolding from the leather chair. He tucks the gun into the back of his jeans and moves around the desk. There's a cabinet on the far wall, and he walks over to it, opening it, and pulling out several boxes. He puts them on the desk in front of me. The top one is open, the shiny bullets inside glinting in the dim afternoon light. There must be hundreds of bullets there.
"You do know I want to shoot, not start a war?" I mumble.
He cocks an eyebrow, a small smile pulling at one side of his lips. "Yeah, I know. I figure it'll take this many for you to learn to hit the fucking target."
I narrow my eyes at him. "You're an arsehole," I grumble. He walks out of the office, his deep laughter rumbling down the hall.