The Wrong Kind of Love

I get up and chase after him down the stairs.

Caleb stops at the end of the hallway so suddenly that I collide into his back. His hand darts out, snatching my wrist and keeping me behind him.

“Caleb. Get out!” Jude shouts, his voice laced with rage.

I glance over Caleb’s shoulder and see Jude in the middle of the kitchen, looming like a beast over the crumpled form of a man. Blood smears the tile, and I can just make out the gag in his mouth. I barely recognize him through the bruises and swelling, but I’d know that face anywhere. It’s branded in my nightmares. Bob.

“Jude, what ar–”

“Out, Caleb!” Jude’s attention never wavers from Bob. “I paid a lot of money to have them bring you back here in one piece.” He snatches him up by the throat. “She was innocent, you son-of-a bitch. Just like my mother. Just like your niece. And you were going to do the same sick shit to her.” He pulls a knife from the block on the counter, then throws Bob to the floor and presses his boot over his throat. “I outta fucking gut you.”

Jude is an angry person, and I’ve witnessed his rage personally, but this is another level. If I were Bob, I’d be terrified.

“Jude.” Caleb says, a quiet note of caution in his voice.

Jude glances over his shoulder, his gaze slipping past Caleb to me. He removes his foot from Bob’s neck, then storms toward me, knife in hand. He looks like some kind of serial killer avenging angel come to inflict his wrath upon the world, upon me. I feel like prey, and though I know, deep down, Jude won’t hurt me, I have the urge to run.

“Come here.” He doesn’t give me a chance to react before he grips my arm and drags me forward. His hold may be unrelenting, but his thumb sweeps over my skin as though he’s trying to temper his violence and calm me.

The closer I get to Bob’s prone form, the harder I dig my heels in. He’s beaten, broken, but he still scares me. Still brings flashes of memory that have my stomach rolling.

Jude releases me, then leans down and rips the gag from his uncle’s mouth. “Tell her you're fucking sorry.”

Bob looks up at me through swollen eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought you worked for To–” Jude rams the cloth back inside his mouth so hard his eyes nearly roll back in his head. Then his rage-filled gaze swings to me, softening just a touch. He traces a finger over my throat. “Can you come back from this?”

“I… I don’t know.” Right now, only days after the man tried to rape me, cut me, kill me–No, I don’t think I’ll ever quite come back from it. But I want to be wrong.

“Caleb,” Jude says. “Go down to the basement and help Marney.” His nostrils flare, his lips press into a thin line. “An eye for an eye is the simplest form of retribution for a goddamn reason.” After Caleb disappears, Jude pries my fist open and passes the knife to me, wrapping my fingers around the handle.

I stare down at the blade, wondering what the hell he expects me to do with it.

Yes, the man did vile, awful things, and yes, I hate him with every fiber of my being. But even with that, I can’t kill someone in cold blood. “I’m not a monster, Jude.”

His gaze bores into me as though he’s trying to pry out some deep dark part of my soul. “Everyone’s a monster, Tor.”

A big part of me wants to watch this man bleed for me, but another part knows this is what I’d truly never come back from. Perhaps I’m just a coward. Or maybe I’m just too innocent for this world of death and cruelty. But Jude has no such reservations. His morality is long gone, buried beneath a mountain of sin.

As I turn to him, the promise of pain and retribution paints into every beautiful line of his face.

“I can’t do it.” I hold the knife out to him, and he smiles like he’s been waiting for this very moment. Jude brushes a finger over my cheek before taking the blade. I’m not asking him to kill for me, but I can’t deny that I want Bob dead.

Morning sun spills through the backdoor, catching on the silver blade before Jude slashes it across Bob's throat. I slam my hands over my ears to block out the gurgle of him choking on his own blood.

I’ve witnessed countless people die, but they’re always silent, slipping away while I try to save them.Bob is fighting, his movements violent and desperate as his body attempts to cling to life.

I want to look away, but I won’t. I wished him dead, and Jude is delivering my revenge.