The Wrong Kind of Love

"You see this, Jude?” Tom says with a cackle. “I'm going to brand her, one for every single day you don't save her. Not sure you'll want her by the time I'm done with her."

Heat touches my back before agonizing pain bleeds along my spine as the sizzle and scent of burning flesh fills the room. It’s the kind of pain that reaches into my bones and sends a hoarse, desperate scream ripping up my throat. “Yes, scream, Tor.” Tom fists my hair, tugging my ear to his lips. "I will ruin you.” He shoves my face against the dirty concrete. “And then I will send your body back for him to see." The metal rod he used to brand me clatters to the floor, and while the pressure is gone, the pain doesn’t stop.

“Undress her.”

His command still hangs in the air when his men flip me onto my back. The cold floor against my burned skin is almost unbearable. I fight, scratching and slapping at his men as they rip my clothes from me. And while I want to scream, I vow not to.

Tom wants to break me, he wants to break Jude, and all I can hope is that my silence makes this a little less rewarding for the bastard. The men strip the last piece of fabric from my body, leaving me bare and exposed.

"Oh, I can definitely see why you like her, Jude.” Tom steps toward me, a vile smile working over his face as he frees his belt. “So pretty, I think I fancy a taste myself. Maybe she’ll be a better unwilling fuck than your sister was.”

His men yank my legs apart. I will never come back from this. Even if Tom doesn't kill me, I know I’ll wish he had.

Jude

"Marney!" I shout, tearing through Elysium. "Where the fuck are you?"

The door to the restroom swings open and Marney stumbles out with a newspaper tucked beneath one arm and a cigarette smoked down to the filter between his lips. "Can't a man take a shit in peace?" He pulls at his fly.

"We gotta go."

"Where the hell are we going?"

"Tom has Tor."

His lips press into a flat line and he tosses the cigarette to the carpet, stomping it out. We head to the back office in silence.

The door bangs open and Caleb jumps up from the chair, nearly knocking over the girl on her knees in front of him. “What the hell, Jude. Knock for–”

“Move out of the way.”

He crams his dick back in his pants. “What?”

“Move.”

He shuffles out from behind the desk and I kick several holes through the sheetrock.

“Jude, what’s going on?” he asks when I reached through the destroyed drywall and start pulling out weapons.

“Tom has Tor.”

“What!”

I load mine and Marney’s arms up with rifles and boxes of ammunition. “Stay here,” I tell my brother when I turn for the door.

"No. I'm going with you."

"No!"

"I care about her too, you know."

"You are not coming, Caleb. I need you here to make sure shit runs smoothly." I glare at him in warning as I step into the hall. I don't want him going. I don't want him in that kind of danger. This is my war, and my little brother will not fight it for me.

****

Marney and I have been barreling down dirt roads for hours, passing through farmland dotted with nothing but run-down buildings. West hasn’t been able to trace the number Tom called from, so I’m flying blind. The only chance I have of finding Campbell is by picking his men off, one by one, and hoping one of the fuckers squeals.

“GPS says it’s right up here,” Marney says, and I cut the headlights. The car bumps along the uneven road, the movement rattling the guns and ammunition in the back seat.

Gravel crunches under the tires and he cuts the engine. Marney loads his pistol while I grab the gun from the console, then we creep through the overgrown grass toward the dim flicker of television lights coming through the window of the otherwise dark house.

We stop at the backdoor, and I raise my gun and cock it, then kick the flimsy door down. The commotion startles the man sprawled on the couch in nothing but his underwear. He jumps up, reaching to the side table for his gun, but mine is aimed at his head already.

I hold my finger over the trigger. "You touch that gun, you die.”

He backs away as I come at him, which is stupid because now he's right up against a wall. I shove the tip of my pistol into his mouth, and he flinches. "You have three seconds to tell me where the fuck Tom Campbell is," I say.

I silently count to three, shrug, then, BAM.

Warm blood splatters my chest and face before the man's body drops to the floor. I'm not in a mood to fuck around. I head to the back door and step over pieces of broken door.