This is when I realize I’ve lost my damn mind. Of course, she would eventually be reported as missing, and what the hell do I think I’m going to do? Just keep her? Like some twisted version of The Collector, only instead of my being some psychopathic freak, I’m just a hardened criminal who's found a bit of a conscience. And what happens when Tom finally comes for me? What if I can’t protect her? The best thing I can do is get her out of the picture.
I dial West’s number. The buzz of a police scanner comes over the line before his voice does. “JP, what do you need?”
“A body.” It’s the only way to get her out of here and ensure she’s out of Tom’s sites so I can focus solely on finding him and gutting him like he deserves. And then, and only then, can my life go back to somewhat normal.
“Shit, Pearson.” West draws in a long breath.
“Female. Five six. Blonde… And I’m gonna need you to throw the investigation.”
“What in the hell?”
He patrols Dayton, which is full of crack houses and heroin dens. Kids find dead bodies in the park all the time on that side of town. “Come on, West. Don’t act like stealing a dead body registers on your moral compass.”
Not only will I need to make sure West heads up the investigation, but I also need to pay off a coroner to say the body is actually hers. Tor will need to dye her hair and cut it. Then I have to figure out how to get her out of this damn state.
He huffs. “I don’t want to know what kinda crap you’re in this time.”
“It’s best if you don’t. Call me when you’ve found one.”
“Jude, I–” I hang up when the back door flies open, slamming against the wall.
Marney drags Bob in by the hair, cursing and spitting on him. There’s blood all over Marney’s shirt. “The piece of shit tried to stab me! So I had to hogtie him.” He pulls him across the kitchen. “Can’t even stab a man the right way.”
I shove back from the table so fast, the piece of furniture moves across the floor. “You fucking…” And I can’t even find the words. There are none that can convey what I’m feeling. I snatch Bob from Marney’s hold, squeezing his throat until I feel the tendons pop.
Marney cackles. “Blood ain’t got no meaning when you can’t trust a fucker.” He pats my back. “I’ll go get a body bag for you.” Whistling, he walks off while I squeeze Bob’s throat harder.
“You hurt her. And now, I’m gonna hurt you.”
Victoria
Jude didn’t sleep in his room last night. Again.
I’ve spent the morning avoiding him. I know Caleb is suspicious as to why I’m hiding out in his room. He’s been napping on and off all morning, after working a night shift, but he doesn’t seem to care that I’m laying beside him, flipping through a Stephen King book–not Alice in Wonderland.
I get to a page filled with gore and close it. This is clearly one of Jude’s books. God knows the man has no issue with violence. The thought of him has me tossing the book on the bed in annoyance.
He kissed me, and I kissed him back–right before he pushed me away. I haven’t seen him since. His mood swings piss me off Just about as much as the fact that I wanted him. I liked the hard press of his body on mine, the scrape of his teeth, even the thready note of jealousy that laced his voice when he mentioned Euan.
Jude is everything my so-called “good” ex-boyfriend wasn’t. Rough, unapologetic, and pure man. And though he’s certainly better than Euan–not that it’s hard–he’s not good.
Jude is the last person I should be drawn to given who and what he is.
I snatch the remote from the nightstand and turn the TV on. I fight a smile when I see The Notebook on Netflix.
“Oh, come on, Ria. I’m not watching a chick flick.”
“I had to watch football for three bloody days straight. You can deal with it.”
Caleb rolls his eyes for the first half of the movie, grumbling about how lame it is, but by the end, he has his arm around me and his eyes are watering.“This shit is so fucking sad.” He nods toward the old couple on screen, clinging to each other in a hospital bed. So much for Caleb being some big bad baby criminal.
The end credits have just started to roll when a crash followed by raised voices comes from somewhere downstairs.
Caleb is up, snatching his gun from his nightstand in a heartbeat. “Stay here.”
Like hell I’m staying here. If there’s an intruder in the house, I’m not getting trapped in a room with barred windows and only one exit. I’m staying with the guy with the gun.