He grabs a jar of spices and dumps half the contents in. “You like your chili spicy?”
“Marney…”
“He went to take care of business.”
Take care of business. That’s what Jude said when he left over three hours ago, but there was something in his demeanor that was off. He refused to take me with him, and I hate being here alone–I glance at Marney waving away smoke from the stove–well, without him.
Marney’s phone buzzes on the counter. He cusses before wiping his hand on the apron and pulling the device to his ear. “Yep.” He stirs the boiling pot, then drops the spoon. “The hell, boy? Fine. Fine. Fucking fine!” Jude’s obviously pissed the old man off. He chucks his phone onto the counter, mumbling that his chili is going to burn. “All right, little darlin’. You just stay right there and make sure nothing goes up in a blaze,” he says before he disappears outside.
I watch the door with narrowed eyes as I remove his burning chili from the eye.
Muffled conversation comes from the back porch before the screen door swings open. The scowl on Jude’s face when he steps in makes it look like he’s ready to kill someone. I shouldn’t find it hot, but I do. That angry look coupled with the way his tight black shirt showcases all his muscles and the—fresh claw marks on his arms?
My mind races through how weird he was acting before he left earlier, the fact that he refused to let me go with him even though he knows I hate being here without him… “What is that?” I point at the scratches, barely keeping my temper in check.
“Don’t start with me, woman.” Jude goes to the fridge and grabs one of Marney’s beers. “I need you to go upstairs.”
“Are you serious?” I pick up the meat-covered spatula from the side and throw it at him, but he swats it away. “You have scratches on your arms, Jude!” I can feel the pulse in my eye as I imagine some woman pressing up against him, raking her nails down his arms... The next item to get thrown his way is a knife.
“What the fuck!”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
“Jesus Christ! I wasn’t fucking anyone.”
“Bullshit.” My palm meets his cheek with a clap.
His jaw tics, nostrils flaring. “I swear to God if you think—”
“Jude. Little help.” Marney’s voice comes from outside, followed by a crash and a bang. “Would you stop flailing around like a snake with a possum?”
Jude tosses his head back on a groan, and when I go to move toward the door, he latches onto my arm. “Tor. Wait.”
He wants me to wait. Fuck him. They’re both up to something, and if Marney knows anything about some whore... I yank away from him and open the back door. The floodlight shines over Marney wrestling with a girl, hands bound and a strip of duct tape over her mouth. Jude has scratches on his arms because he kidnapped a girl? And that might be worse than him screwing someone. What is wrong with me? It should one hundred percent be worse.
“You took a girl?” When I spin back to the kitchen, Jude’s gaze is aimed at the floor.
“It’s the only way to get to Tom,” he says barely above a whisper.
I swing from anger to horror to pity in a heartbeat. Closing the distance between us, I cup his cheek and force his gaze to mine. The anguish in his eyes is bone-deep. I can’t tell him it’s okay because it’s not. I was once an innocent victim, just like that girl, and I can’t stand the thought of playing any part in this, even if it’s just standing by. “Promise me you won’t hurt her and that you won’t give her to Tom.”
There’s a beat of hesitation I don’t like. “I promise.” His hand slides over mine, pulling it from his face. “Now, please, go upstairs, Tor.”
Marney wrangles the girl inside, and our gazes meet. Her eyes beg me to help her, but instead of helping her, I force myself to walk away and climb the stairs to the bedroom.
Over the next several minutes, I ignore the muffled conversation that drifts through the floor. I fist the sheets, fighting the urge to go help her and hating myself for it. If there’s even a chance that this will result in Tom’s death, then I need to take it. For my child. A life I am terrified to bring into this world with Tom still breathing. This baby is the only thing that could trump an innocent girl who is not much younger than me.
My stomach knots as the minutes tick by.
Eventually, Jude comes upstairs, and the fractured look on his face has my heart squeezing. Jude isn’t a bad person–not really–and I know he doesn’t want to do this. He’s just protecting his family.