He sighs. “If Jude comes back and finds out you haven’t been eating, he’s gonna be pissed.”
“I doubt that, Caleb. I’m pretty sure your brother’s going to kill me if that asshole doesn’t pay Jude his stupid money.”
Caleb frowns. “I mean, come on. He’ll pay.”
“Really? The guy who handed me over to cover his debt to a loan shark…”
“A loan shark…” he half laughs. “Jude’s not a loan shark. He’s a bookie.”
“Gambling?” Brilliant. This just gets better and better. I guess that explains why Euan can’t go to his family for the money. Which means unless he’s willing to sell his precious BMW, he isn’t getting twenty grand. “Of course. Asshole.”
I’m not getting out of this. There is no white knight. No savior. I fight the sense of defeat. I’ll be my own damn savior.
“I’ll bring you back something in case you change your mind.” Caleb leaves, locking the door behind him.
The noise of the TV plays in the background as my gaze drifts to the thick woods beyond the barred window. Woods that stretch on for as far as I can see, like a natural prison beyond this temporary one. But if I could just make it to those ten-acres of woods, I could probably hide. Bide my time until I could run and make it to the nearest road…
Caleb told me yesterday Jude is out of town, so I’d only have to get past Caleb, and he’s a far easier adversary than his behemoth brother… There are no obvious weapons in here, but my gaze drifts to the lamp on the nightstand. I could wait until Caleb is watching the game and smash it over his head. Hopefully it would knock him out long enough I could grab the key. A tiny niggle of guilt settles in my gut, but I push it away. This is kill or be killed…without the kill.
Footsteps pad down the hall, and I push to my feet, lingering beside the nightstand as the lock clicks. Caleb walks in, carrying a plate with two sandwiches.
My fingers brush the porcelain base of the lamp as he approaches. Then Jude steps into the doorway, filling it with his tattooed bulk. My hand snatches back to my side as I glare at the man I’ve come to intensely hate in the last forty-eight hours.
I dare to hope that he’s come to let me go. But then he grabs onto the frame above his head and his T-shirt lifts, revealing the gun tucked into his waistband.
My heart stumbles for a beat. No, the three days aren't up yet. He can’t– “Caleb said you won’t eat.” His voice is calm, but I can sense the storm brewing beneath.
Fear tries to steal my voice as that gun glints like a flashing beacon in my periphery. I fight it, meeting his gaze with forced courage. “If you’re going to kill me, then I don’t see that it matters. Besides, a sandwich is a pretty shitty last meal.”
Frowning, he steps into the room, takes a sandwich from Caleb’s plate, and closes the space between us. “You’re gonna eat this shitty sandwich.”
He didn’t confirm or deny my last meal comment, and I can’t help but ask, “Does that mean Euan paid?”
“No,” he says. “The little shit didn’t pay yet.” Yet. One more day.
I had one more day before me and that gun was going to become very well acquainted.
Jude thrust the sandwich in front of me. “Now, eat before I shove it down your throat, woman,” he says with all the finesse of a rabid bull.
Something in me just snaps. “I don’t want anything from you!” I slap his hand away. “I don’t want to be involved in your corrupt criminal activities. I don’t want your false concern, and I sure as hell don’t want your fucking f–”
The rest of my tirade is lost when ham and cheese and stale bread are forced inside my mouth. “Fucking chew and swallow,” he says. The patronizing tone of his voice makes me see red, and my anger disintegrates any sense of self-preservation I might have had. He can threaten me, even kill me, but he will not degrade me.
I spit the food at him.The rage that blankets his face is both satisfying and terrifying.
His jaw tics before he grabs both my shoulders, slamming me back against the wall. “You and that temper of yours, Victoria.” My name sounds so sordid on his tongue that I vaguely register the fact I never gave it to him.
“Wonder if that’s why your stupid little boyfriend hasn’t paid for you?”
I try not to flinch at his words, but it’s hard not to feel pretty bloody worthless right now. It hurts to know that I mean nothing to a man I thought I would marry. A tear tracks down my cheek, and I close my eyes as I try not to break down and sob at the unfairness of this whole situation. “What are you going to do?” I whisper.