Emotions whip through my chest like a tornado. Euan is dead—murdered—probably by Jude or someone associated with him, and I’m not sure how to feel about it. Nothing is as black and white as it once was. Acts that once seemed inexcusable are now tinged with justification.
I feel a twinge of sadness for the death of the man I thought he was and the memories we shared.Euan was someone I once loved, who I planned a future with, but he also betrayed me in the worst way.
I sit through a round of commercials. Euan is dead, and we’re both supposedly murdered. If I pop back up alive, I’ll be dragged to a police station and under investigation before I can blink. This screws everything up.
The nagging feeling in my gut becomes unbearable. “Did your brother do that?” I ask Caleb.
“I don’t know. Probably.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Your boyfriend was a dick, though…”
He was, but that’s irrelevant. I shove off the couch, my anger growing as I storm downstairs, and barrel through the haze of smoke into Jude’s office. “Did you kill Euan?”
Jude hangs up the phone and finishes scribbling something out on his notepad before he turns in his chair. “Yes.”
So nonchalant, without an ounce of hesitation. Like I just asked if he wanted pizza for dinner.
His jaw tics as he reaches for the cigarette resting on the edge of his ashtray. “And why the fuck do you care?”
“Why wouldn’t I care, Jude?”
“Did you love him?” There’s something to the way he asks that question that sounds angry, possibly jealous, and I hate that I like it almost as much as I hate that it’s hard to answer.
At some point, I thought I loved Euan. Now though, I don’t think I really did. Our relationship lacked the rawness, the rush I always associated with true love. At times I have that with Jude, but isn’t that the line between love and lust?
“Did you love him, Tor?”
“I don’t know...”
A stream of smoke seeps through Jude’s lips, his hard gaze pinning me in place. “He doesn’t deserve to matter.”
He doesn’t matter, not really. Euan stopped “mattering” the second he handed me over to Rich. But the fact that Jude doesn’t think killing my boyfriend is something worth mentioning... “You killed my ex-boyfriend, Jude. It’s kind of a big deal.”
“It’s just a life.”
I’m not sure if I’m disturbed by that statement or not. Just a life. Like how my life was just a life that’s now as much a smoldering heap as my fake corpse. The corpse they think Euan killed... “You know I can never go back now without being suspected of his murder.”
A wave of anger crashes over Jude’s face. He stubs out his cigarette, then shoves out of his chair. “Stop making everything about yourself. It wasn’t just your life that was upended when you were dragged through that goddamn door. I’ve killed two people because of you! ”
Oh, this bastard. “Are you kidding me? You killed those people because you’re a criminal, Jude! You kill people. This is your life.”
“And I tried to give you a normal life, but Sarah Jones wasn’t good enough for you.”
He really thinks some random ID is going to make up for my entire identity, my purpose? I don’t even know what I pick up from the sideboard and launch at him, but it’s heavy.
I miss him by a good foot, hitting the wall. That’s all it takes to get him moving toward me.
My back hits the wall with a thud as his fingers clamp around my throat. “That temper of yours is really going to get you in trouble.”
I want nothing more than to slap him right now, but even through my rage, I know he’s too mad to test. “Get your hands off me.” I attempt to wriggle free of his hold.
“Oh, now you want my hands off of you? What is it, Tor? Are you trying to respect the dead?” His lips hit my throat before the rake of his teeth does. “Because when you thought he was alive, you sure as fuck wanted my hands all over you—in you.” The smirk that cuts across his lips in sinful. “You came on my fingers the same day I killed him, begging me to fuck you.”
Oh my god, that was Euan’s blood on his neck. I’m long past feeling anything for Euan, but still it seems, I don’t know…disrespectful? No, Jude is disrespectful. As if he gives a shit.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it, Tor.” He trails a hand over my stomach.
I suck in a shaky breath as his hands move to the waist of my shorts, his fingers fumbling with the button. I should put a stop to it, but I’m frozen between anger and the raging lust his lips incite.