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)
I wobble to the bathroom and lean over the loo for a few minutes because I’m pretty sure I’m going to hurl. Eventually, though, my stomach calms its shit. A shower, that’s what I need. Everything will seem better then. Hell, at least I don’t have anywhere to be. Silver lining and all that.
I turn the shower on and let the water warm. I glance at the vanity. I should look awful this morning, but I don’t. As always, my eyes drop to the long scar across my throat, only this time, there are two purple marks to the side of it. I touch them gingerly and step closer to the mirror to get a better look. Bite marks, they’re bite marks! I remember Jude’s body pressed against mine, his lips at my neck, his teeth...My lips are swollen, and my bottom lip is raw.
While part of me is screaming what the fuck, there’s another part that’s like a giddy bloody girl. What the hell is with that? This is Jude I’m talking about here. Giddy should not even be a possibility around that man. He’s a killer, a criminal, a man with no morals and few loyalties.
What happened last night should never have happened, so why, when I think of it now, does it make my skin flush and my stomach tighten? I’m so fucked.
I jump into the shower, hoping that the water will strengthen my resolve and give me the will power I need to face Jude this morning…think of the devil, and he shall appear. I hear the bathroom door open, and he steps in. For one awful yet somehow hopeful second I think he might try to get in the shower with me, but he doesn’t. I hear the taps turn on, and I think he’s brushing his teeth. Then there’s the unmistakable sound of him pissing. I roll my eyes. Really? Why can that man not urinate somewhere away from me? I’m really hoping our drunken bonding hasn’t dropped some weird barrier whereby we’re suddenly into communal pissing. Some things are just sacred.
The entire time he’s in here, he never says a word. Oh, my God. Maybe he’s ashamed too. I stay in here for a long time, trying to wash away my shame. There’s not enough water or soap in the world for that, though.
I eventually step out and wrap a towel around me. Okay, be brave, Ria. It’s no worse than a one night stand...except for the fact that I have to spend every minute of every day with him.
I push the handle down and open the door, stepping into the room nervously.
I pretty much define awkward right now. I glance up to see Jude lounging on the bed. The TV is on and he’s leant against the headboard, watching it. I can’t for the life of me tell you what is on the screen because he’s almost naked, except for his boxers. His hands are behind his head, and every muscle in his torso seems to be popping out in the morning light. Shit. Look up! I scream at myself.
His eyes stray away from the television and land on me. He grabs the remote and switches the TV off. In the sudden silence, all I can hear is my own heavy breathing.
He clears his throat. “I’m going to go handle some things while Caleb gets you breakfast. Oh, and we need to dye your hair.”
“My hair?” The fuck?
He moves off the bed and pulls a t-shirt out of the chest of drawers. “Yeah, your hair. You’re dead, remember? Which means the hair is gonna have to be dyed or something. Sorry.”
“I thought I was only supposed to be here for three weeks?”
He frowns. “You are. It’s just a precaution.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “For what? I’m dead, remember? I’m hours from home. No one here knows who I am or gives a shit what colour my hair is.”
“Joe knows what you look like.” He cocks an eyebrow.
I roll my eyes and move to the bed. I sit in the middle with my legs crossed, watching him. “Great. Well, my old life is ruined. What the hell, I suppose you might as well just destroy my identity.”
“Really?” He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps straining and stretching the thick ink over his muscles. “Get off the fucking cross.” I feel my temper rise to the surface instantly. He has screwed up every aspect of my life.
“Fuck you, Jude! You’re a cunt!” I snap.
He laughs humourlessly. “I can’t fucking win. I try to kill you, I’m an asshole; I try to save you, I’m a cunt. You want to leave, I let you, and then you come back. What the fuck do you want me to do?”
“Nothing, I want you to do nothing. Just go and take your illegal bets, beat the shit out of some poor unsuspecting bastard, fuck some dirty, AIDSy stripper, hell, drown a kitten…”