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)
Drumming my fingers over the worn edge of my desk, I wait. There’s a cigarette smoldering in the ashtray. I haven’t smoked it. I’m just watching the thin white swirls float in front of my face as I try to even out my breathing. What he did to her was unjustified, sick, and shows a complete lack of respect for me, and for her.
I listen to the footsteps coming down the stairs, and seconds later there’s a knock on the door. The hinges of the chair creak as I rise to answer it, and the door swings open before I can get there. I see Tor’s tiny frame behind Caleb. Her eyes lock with mine, and I can barely look at her. They’re empty, hollow. That spark that I admired so much has vanished. She really is gone.
“Come on,” I say hoarsely as I make my way down the hall.
She and Caleb follow me, and the second I reach for the door that leads to that room, I hear her breathing pick up. I know she thinks I’m bringing her here to kill her. I push open the door and stop, not bothering to glance back. “Tor, I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again. This is for you.”
I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her through the door. I can feel her muscles tense as she braces herself. She takes one look around the room and spins to face me. “What is this?” Her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper.
I briefly divert my gaze from hers. The light from the doorway casts a faint glow over the room. Bob dangles from the metal hook in the ceiling, groaning, his feet barely touching the floor. Dried blood stains his chin, and his bare torso is covered in large, black bruises.
I manage to maintain my calm when I look at him. I have to strain to keep control of my voice. “You had no right to touch her, you sick piece of shit!” I direct my attention back to Tor. “He was wrong, and you’re gonna make this right. This is the only way I know to help you.”
I yank the thin cord to the light and the bulbs flicker and buzz. I can hear each breath I draw in rumble with a growl as I circle by him. I walk toward the corner of the room and pull open a drawer on the small metal cabinet. I stare down at the assortment of weapons and grab a hunting knife. I slam the cabinet shut with a bang, and everything inside rattles. Within seconds, I’ve grabbed Tor’s hand and placed the blade inside her damp palm. She’s trembling, her eyes blanketed in confusion as her eyes dart from me to the knife to Bob.
Her gaze sharpens on the knife, her brow creasing. “I’m not a monster, Jude, not like you, not like him.” Her voice is soft, uncertain, as a look of disgust crawls over her face.
“Maybe you weren’t”—my eyes narrow on hers—“but you are not the same person you were when you were brought through those doors. When someone hurts you, the only way to take that pain away is by taking revenge. He didn’t just steal something of monetary value, Tor.” I can feel my pulse thumping in my temples. My teeth grind against each other from the anger bubbling to the surface. “In this world, when someone fucks you up, you fuck them up, or you will never survive.” I take a few steps toward her and close my palm around her tiny hand in an effort to tighten her grip on the handle. “Make him feel what he made you feel,” I growl, my eyes tearing into hers.
I want to help her. I want her to feel vindicated. And after what has been done to her, the only way she will ever feel that is with bloodshed.
My heart hammers against my ribs and my palms are damp as I grip the handle of the knife. Jude’s fingers cover mine, tightening my hold. I look up into his eyes, and he holds my gaze. Part of me fucking hates him, part of me would sooner plunge this knife into his chest and just be done with it, but the other part, well, in his own sick and twisted way, he’s trying to make amends.
In his world, this is how justice is served. I can feel how much he wants this, how much he wants to give me back something that was taken, but he can’t. All that’s left is this anger and hatred that’s festering inside me. I don’t want to be this person.
“He will pay for what he’s done.” Jude lowers his face to mine, his eyes intense, intimidating. “Do you hear me, Tor?” I’ve never actually been able to feel someone else’s anger before, but at this moment, it radiates from him like an inferno, and if I don’t get away from him I’m going to be consumed by it.