It was the day they left for Portland and she told AJ to kiss her like he fucked her. She could still taste his lips … feel his tongue.
“How do they look together?”
Jillian clenched her jaw, but said nothing. It wasn’t her turn to speak. Luke showed no reaction. His face still entirely Dr. Jones—neutral, professional, unattached.
“Desperate.”
Irene turned, holding the photo closer to Jillian. “Were you desperate in this photo?”
“Yes.” It was the truth.
“What about here?” She held up another picture, showing it only to Jillian.
There it was, the end. Jillian looked at the photo and then at Luke. When she blinked the tears came out, an apology to Luke for what he was about to see. Irene was right, psychological torture inflicted wounds far worse than anything physical.
“I love you.”
Irene whipped her head around. “Dr. Jones. It’s not your turn to speak.”
Cutter guy unsheathed his knife.
“Stop! I’m sorry, I won’t say it again!”
The tip of the blade punctured Jillian’s skin along her temple, blood ran down the side of her face. Dr. Jones vanished. The man before her lost all composure as tears filled his red, angry eyes.
He had no idea how much she needed those three words.
“Say it again,” Jillian whispered.
Luke shook his head.
“Say. It. Again.”
He continued to shake his head. Irene’s eyes flitted between them, enjoyment danced in her smile.
As psycho bitch turned to show the photo to Luke, Jillian let out a strangled sob. “Please…” more tears spilled over “…say it one more time.” She needed to hear it because she knew it would be the last time he would ever say those three words to her.
Pain contorted his face as he continued to shake his head. “I love you.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the knife carved a new valley in Jessica’s skin above her shoulder blade.
She felt nothing but the resonance of Luke’s words in her heart.
“Can you still say that?” Irene asked, showing Luke the photo of AJ fucking Jillian.
It was the day she took off on her motorcycle and he followed her to an abandoned dirt road atop a bluff overlooking the city. She was so angry with him for his venomous words. It was a turning point in their relationship. How could she not have known someone followed her … took pictures of them? AJ stood with the door open, pants and briefs at his ankles. She sat sideways in the passenger’s seat, legs spread wide to accommodate his body, her hands clawing his back, her brow tense, eyes closed, jaw slack.
Everything drained from Luke’s body—his blood, his dignity, his past, his whole life.
Defeat.
It no longer mattered who lived and who died. Irene won. She ruined Sunny’s precious daughter. She found Jillian’s weak point and drove a dagger into it.
“Did you enjoy fucking AJ?” Irene asked Jillian, keeping her attention on Luke.
Cutter guy stepped closer to Luke.
“Yes,” she said, her voice weak.
So much betrayal lived in Luke’s eyes.
“Did you love AJ?”
The knife would hurt him less. Would Luke understand that?
It didn’t matter because Jillian didn’t want to deny her love for AJ. They shared something life-changing and saying otherwise would tarnish his memory.
“Your brother’s antsy trigger finger just put a bullet in the head of my knife-wielding friend’s girlfriend. He’s ready to kill all of you. I wouldn’t push him.”
He jerked Luke’s head back and pressed the tip to his carotid.
“Yes. I loved AJ.”
Luke’s eyes shut. A lone tear bled from his right eye.
Knox frowned. It was possible he felt Luke’s pain, the kind that came from losing the one, the one that was supposed to be forever.
“Up.” Irene nodded to her disgruntled accomplice.
He dragged Luke to his feet. Jillian used what little energy she had left to fight her restraints. “Where are you taking him?”
“Fishing.”
“Luke!” Jillian screamed until more blood came up with a coughing fit. “He’s … he’s …” her voice died.
The door slammed shut.
“Yes. Jackson’s going to kill him to save you.” The resolution of Knox’s words filled the air and buried her alive.
Jillian rolled to her side, the cold concrete pressed to her cheek.
Protocol.
Irene would use Luke as bait to get Jackson to surrender.
He wouldn’t.
Never surrender.
Shoot one hostage to make a point and save ten more.
Jackson was selfish. He wanted Jillian alive at all costs. He’d take her broken and desolate as long as she was alive.
“While you were self-absorbed in your own dysfunctional life, one foot in G.A.I.L. one foot out, Jackson killed and he was good at it.” Knox nodded. “Better than anyone. Everything has to be black or white. Gray is nothing more than hesitation. He’s alive … and so are you because he never hesitates.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Jones … you suicidal fucker.” Jackson watched through his scope as Luke inched into the front yard.
No one else was in sight, yet there had to be another gun pointed at Luke’s back.