The Wrong Kind of Love - Page 58

“How am I supposed to bring a baby into this, Caleb?”

The crunch of pine straw has me sitting bolt upright. My hand moves behind my back, fingers curling around the gun tucked into the waist of my shorts before I point it at the shadowy figure breaking through the trees.

"Hell, I was just checking on you. You ain't gotta shoot me, darlin'."

I release the breath I've been holding as moonlight plays over Marney's stout figure. A cloud of cigarette smoke floats around him. Without a word, I release my grip on the gun and climb to my feet.

Marney takes a drag from his cigarette. “So, I take it Jude doesn't know you're knocked up, huh?"

It’s not until he drops his gaze to my stomach that I realize my hand is on it, and I quickly snatch it away. I’m not ready for this to be anything other than my secret. I haven’t processed it myself yet, and Jude has enough to deal with right now.

Marney exhales another puff of smoke with a quirk of his brow. “Well, does he?”

"I don't want him to know."

His attention goes to my stomach again. “Yeah, well, hate to tell you, but he'll figure it out when you start to look like you swallowed a damn watermelon."

"I know."

He shuffles toward me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Why don't we just get you back inside? You need to rest..." He brings his face level to mine as his eyes soften and grins. "And eat."

"Please don't tell him,” I beg.

"I ain't gonna tell him. You need to be the one to do that."

And I would, just not yet.

Chapter Jude

Two million damn dollars. That’s the price of freedom.

I pull into the drive, cramming the receipt from Western Union along with three fake IDs in my back pocket as I climb out. Gabe said it would take a little while to get the house in the islands ready, and that’s just fine. After today, I’m going to have a lot of time to wait around. Because I’ll be one dead motherfucker.

Marney comes out of the side door just as I make my way up the porch. “Why you look like you got a fire lit under your ass, boy?”

I reach the top step and shove the fake IDs against his chest. “We’re leaving.”

“What in the hell?”

“We’re going to your place in the mountains.” I maneuver around him, and he follows me inside. “Go get Tor. Then help me get the money together.”

Marney sighs. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked…”

We spend the next half hour ransacking the house for the money I have stashed all over the place. We bust up walls and rip up floorboards, until every last dime is crammed into suitcases.

I’m on autopilot, fueled by adrenaline when I grab two tanks of gasoline from the shed.

I start across the yard, stopping when my gaze lands on the woods and the headstones that lay within. This is where I grew up—where Caleb, Grace, and I grew up. It’s the only place I’ve known, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sometimes picture my mother in the kitchen or my dad in that office. I feel them here, and I’m about to have to let that all fucking go.

My chest tightens as I walk into the woods and over to the graves, tanks still in my hand. I read over their names, remembering each day they were buried. Then I stop at Caleb’s.

“I’m fucking sorry, Caleb. But I promise you, I’ll take care of her.” Because on some level, I know he loved her. Enough to sacrifice himself for her. And for that alone, I would protect her life, even if she wasn’t the most precious thing left in my world. That black emptiness creeps into my mind, threatening to take me under, and I redirect my attention to Tom, to the anger and rage.

Then I head back to the house and douse every single room with gasoline, tossing the empty tanks beside the gas heater in the basement. By the time I come outside, Marney’s truck is backed out of the driveway, engine running.

I strike a match and hesitate. Then look at Tor waiting in the backseat.

I'm about to set fire to every tangible memory I have, burn down everything my family owned, and leave. But I have no other choice. A sharp pain cuts through my chest when I drop the match to the concrete. I wait until the blaze snakes up the porch steps and begins to eat away at the door before I turn and rush to the waiting truck.

Tires squeal as Marney takes off, speeding down the long driveway. It feels like everything left inside of me is on the verge of fucking breaking as I watch my house shrink in the side mirror. It’s almost out of view when a loud boom rattles the windshield. An orange glow flashes behind us, and a plume of black smoke lifts above the trees.

Tags: Stevie J. Cole, L.P. Lovell Erotic
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