The Wrong Kind of Love

The officer leads me across the airport to a doorway beside the duty-free station. He unlocks it and motions me inside, only instead of following me in, the moment I’m across the threshold, it slams behind me. A lock clicks.

“So nice to finally meet you, Victoria.” The voice draws my attention from the locked door, my alarm rising when a man in a suit separates from the shadows, a cruel smile on his face.

I don’t know who this guy is, but he doesn’t look like a customs officer, and a knot of unease settles in my gut.

He steps toward me and grabs hold of my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I fight to pull away from him, alarm bells blaring in my head. This is not an interrogation about my fake passport. Before I can open my mouth and scream for help, he reaches for something in the waist of his pants. A gun. I freeze.

"Jude Pearson is so predictable. He really makes this too easy.”

I’ve never seen this man before, but I know it’s Tom Campbell. He’s found me.

_____

A pounding headache wakes me, and I roll onto my side, searching for Jude’s warm body, but I find nothing except cold concrete. The smell of damp sets in as a shiver works over me, and when I open my eyes, instead of seeing early morning sunlight dance across Jude’s ceiling, I’m met with pitch black—and it all comes rushing in like an avalanche. He let me go, and Tom caught me.

Distant footfalls break through the silence before a latch clicks and hinges creak. Dim light cuts across the concrete floor, and I stumble to my feet when I see the figures looming in a nearby doorway. The light cuts on, illuminating an empty warehouse. Panic settles in my chest as they approach. One of them I recognize as the man from the airport. Tom. He goes straight to what looks like an old furnace settled amongst rusted machinery and chucks some logs in. Within moments, a fire roars to life. The warm glow of the flames dances over the walls, bringing the other two men out of the shadows while I stumble backward. I’ve never been so aware of my own fragility as I am right now.

“Hello, Victoria.” Tom moves from the furnace. The sick grin on his face as he closes in on me has my heart seizing with fear. “I’m actually rather pleased. I knew from the moment Euan sent me a picture of his pretty new girlfriend that Jude would become weak for you. That he’d try and protect you. I did not expect him to be stupid enough to fall in love with you.” He laughs, and it’s tinged with insanity. “Bravo, little bird.” His gaze drags over my body. “You must be truly special.”

That look has revulsion and fear twisting in my gut. I know what kind of man this is, the things he does. "Jude doesn't love me," I say. It hurts to speak the words, but they’re true. If he wants to hurt Jude through me, he’ll miss his mark. “He sent me away.”

His eyes flash. “Exactly. Such a selfless act.” Was it?

Tom plucks a strand of my hair, twisting it between his fingers, and I’m too scared to pull away.

"Jude Pearson is very much in love with you, Tor. And you, my sweet little bird, just became the weapon I need to put him down like the dog that he is."

None of it makes any sense. He could have killed us at any point. Hopelessness washes over me because this was always an inevitable end to mine and Jude’s twisted story. We’re just puppets on Tom’s strings. Everything has played into some insane plan and brought me right here.

Tom snaps his fingers, and one of his men grabs me by the throat and throws me to the floor. My heart lets out a terrified beat as fingers squeeze my airway. “Now before we get started, I want you to tell me everything you know about Jude Pearson, Victoria.”

Hatred and anger, and heartbreaking disappointment rise within me. He might have me. He might even get Jude, but I won’t help him do it. "Fuck you.”

He crouches beside me, grinning like The Joker. "I so hoped you would say that." He draws back a fist and punches me.

The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth as pain explodes across my cheekbone.

He points to something in the corner of the room; a blinking red light. “Smile for the camera, little bird.” Fear crawls through my gut, and I hate how utterly vulnerable I am.

Tom moves away and stands in front of the furnace. My heart pounds loudly as I wait and see what horror he’s about to unleash. I hear him messing with something seconds before his shiny black shoes stop beside me. "This is what happens to those who are loyal to you, Pearson.” He glances to the corner again before a hand clamps on the back of my neck. My shirt is torn open, exposing my back. I struggle and thrash against the men holding me in place, but it’s pointless.