The Wrong Kind of Love

I ram the sharp, blazing red end into his eye. Flesh sizzles and the thick aroma of charred meat creeps into my nostrils as the man screams. I yank back, pulling his eyeball out with the poker. Blood pours down his face, the mutilated orb dangling from nerves. I won't lie, that shit makes my stomach turn. “Where is he?”

"Even if I tell you where he is,” he pants through pain. “You won't find Tom unless he wants you to.”

I swing the poker back again, preparing to knock his skull clean off his body.

"One fifty-five,” he pauses. “Highway seventy-five.”

Marney types the address into his phone. His eyes narrow on the screen before lifting to mine. "It's an old furniture factory?"

The man nods on a groan. I chuck the poker to the floor. "Come on, old man.”

***

My blood pressure nears stroke level while Marney drives one-hundred and twenty down a deserted country road. I try Caleb again, and when he doesn’t answer, I drop the phone to the cupholder.

“Probably shagging that Crystal girl,” Marney says. “Don’t worry about Caleb, he’s got a good head on his shoulders.”

Swarms of insects catch in the glow of the headlights when Marney turns into the lot of an abandoned warehouse.

Marney slows beside a bay door and cuts the engine. He leans over the steering wheel, staring at the building with narrowed eyes. “I don’t like the feel of this, boy.”

Neither do I. There’s not one damn car in this lot. So where the hell is Tom?

Marney climbs out. I take my gun from the console, then follow him out into the humid night air. I’m all too aware that no matter what, at this very moment, Tom has the upper hand. And I hate it. Anger builds inside me to nuclear levels, threatening to blow.

When we reach the rusted metal door, Marney pauses. At the threshold is a magnolia. My pulse ticks up, and I cock my gun.

A crawling anxiety winds my muscles tight when we step inside the abandoned building. No lights. No noise. We trek past empty conveyor belts and rotting cardboard boxes, and still, there’s not the first footfall, the first click of a gun’s hammer. I can admit that I’m scared. Tom has been the boogeyman that has haunted my family for most of my life.

Tom’s not here though. Neither are his men. Because it’s not my life he’s after, it’s my soul…

We come to a dark corridor. Marney jerks his head to the left. "I'll go this way. You go down the other side.”

With each empty room I pass, my frayed nerves threaten to snap. I round a corner, stepping through cobwebs, and then I catch a sliver of light dancing on the wall. My feet root to the spot.. My pulse bangs in my ears like an angry war drum as I nudge the door open with the toe of my boot, and then the pounding rhythm skips several beats.

Tor lies motionless and naked on the dirty concrete floor. A hot wave of panic and anger floods my system as I rush into the room and hit my knees beside her. My hand shakes as I check for a pulse, and I release a breath when I find it.

Bruises cover her face and arms, blood smears her thighs, but she’s still alive. For now, that’s all I can focus on. She’s still breathing. I gather her in my arms and rush through the maze of corridors, shouting for Marney.

I make it outside the warehouse and halfway to the car before I see Marney’s silhouette at the back of the truck.

“We’ve gotta get to a hospital,” I shout, rushing over broken pavement.

The cloud cover shifts, and moonlight spills over the dark lot just as Marney places a limp body in the back of the truck, then turns away. “Jude…” His voice cracks, then a sob breaks through the silence of the night. “He’s gone.”

His words don’t register until I stop beside the truck and see the person laid out in the back cab with lifeless eyes aimed at the roof. “Marney…” I start, and my hold on Tor tightens. That’s not Caleb.

Marney braces his arms on the bed of the truck, his shoulders shaking on another heavy sob. “I’m gonna kill the bastard myself.”

Moments in a person’s life transcend reality, and this is one of them. Caleb has his whole life ahead of him. He’s at a girl's house right now, doing what twenty-year-olds do. He’s not in the back of that truck. There’s no way Tom got to him. The longer I stare at him, the dust of that lie settles, and the grim truth creeps in. My chest and throat tighten with an avalanche of emotions which render me numb and unable to process anything. The only thing that brings me back to the moment is Tor’s warm body underneath my hands. I have to take care of her when all I want to do is fall the fuck apart. “We’ll take him to the hosp—” I choke on my words when Marney closes the back door.