There's a loud bang, and I wait for the pain, for the state of nothingness. And then Joe falls forward, his heavy body crushing me to the ground. Warm blood pours over my chest. I hear footsteps running through the woods, then Tor screaming. "Jude!"
I shove Joe's body off of me. Trying to shake the state of confusion I'm in.
Tor runs toward me, dropping to her knees when she reaches me. She's crying and shaking with a gun in her hand. I sit up, grabbing onto her and pulling her to me. "Shh. I'm fine, doll." I rub my hand along her back as I stare over her shoulder at Joe's lifeless body.
"You shot him?" I ask in disbelief. I never even saw her. He's dead. Joe Campbell is finally dead, after all these years of chasing what seemed to be a ghost, he's gone.
"He was going to kill you," she says, her voice trembling. I take the gun from her and lay it on the ground beside me.
"Shh, Tor. Calm down." I stroke her face, swiping away the tears with my thumbs. "It's okay. It's all okay." She won't stop shaking, and I'm terrified this may be the thing that's finally going to cause her to have a mental breakdown.
She nods, her fingers clinging to my shirt. I kiss her forehead and slowly stand up. Everything spins around me, but I make my way over to Joe's body, snatching my gun from his hand. I stare at him, hate and rage fuming to the surface. I aim at his face and pull the trigger. I wait, and shoot again and again, until my magazine is empty and his face is unrecognizable.
This was the moment I lived the past fifteen years of my life for, and it's over, but nothing's changed. I always thought that in this moment I will feel justification, I would feel a sense of righteousness, but I feel nothing. I stare at him. I fucking hate him, everything he did to my family, to my Tor. Revenge is a debt that not even death can pay. I've spent my entire life seeking vengeance because I thought it would make me whole, but all it's done is cost me everything, except for her.
I turn back to Tor. She’s frozen in place, staring at Joe. The expression on her face makes me think she's realized that his death won't numb the pain.
"Come on," I whisper, grabbing her hand and leading her back through the woods.
Dawn is breaking as we climb up the ravine. As soon as we reach the top, my heart stops. "Fuck," I mumble beneath my breath as I drop Tor's hand.
I'm staring across the tall weeds at a highway littered with men dressed in black uniforms and bulletproof vests, guns aimed at us.
"Throw any weapons you have down, and lay on the ground."
"I'm sorry," I whisper to Tor as I pull my gun and toss it onto the highway "You just say you had nothing to do with this. Nothing. You look after our baby, Tor. You hear me?" I glance sideways at her, and she nods slowly.
I carefully lower myself to the ground and lay my body flat. Men rush toward us, yelling, "Get on the ground!"
"I am on the fucking ground!" I shout.
"Get on the ground. On the ground!"
It's not me they're shouting at, it's Tor. I strain my neck to look back at her. She's on her knees, her face white, tears pouring down her cheeks, and it's then I notice her bloodstained clothing and hands. Joe's blood is all over me, and now it's all over her. Shit!
"Don't move!" one of the men yell at me.
"She's fucking pregnant!" I lift my head to argue and find the barrel of a rifle pointed in my face.
A man steps behind Tor and forces her to the ground, yanking her arms behind her back. Her cheek presses against the asphalt of the highway. Her tear filled eyes focus on me. "Jude!" she cries. And I can't do a damn thing!
"Let her the fuck go!" I plead. "She's innocent. I took her. She's my fucking hostage. She had nothing to do with any of this. Just let her go."
"Jude!"
The past seven months rush through my mind. How the hell can I protect her from this shit right here? She's murdered people. She's in love with me. She's pregnant with my child. "Stockholm Syndrome!" I yell in desperation. "She has Stockholm Syndrome. Just let her go!"
An officer jerks my arms behind my back, and the cold metal handcuffs snap around my wrists. Panic rises in my chest. This is the risk that comes with my lifestyle, the fear that's always lurked in the back of my mind, that one day I would get caught. I've always known that if I get caught, I'm done for because my list of wrongs is a bottomless fucking pit, but Tor... this was a risk she never bargained for.
"Her name's Victoria Pears..." I stop as I'm hauled to me feet. "No, her name's Victoria Deveaux. She was kidnapped. She's innocent!" I shout.
Two guys drag Tor to her feet and pull her toward a black SUV. All I can think is that if they hurt her, I will find a way to fucking kill them. I'm marched to an unmarked car. A guy in a suit is leaned against the trunk, scowling at me. He pulls his suit jacket open exposing his badge and gun as he narrows his gaze on me.
"Jude Pearson," he says my name with an edge of awe and respect, like he's just stumbled upon the Holy-fucking-Grail. The corner of his lips curl up and he chuckles. "Thought you were dead. Hmm. Come for Joe Campbell, and find you. Surprise, surprise." He pushes me forward and I stumble. "Man, I'm getting promoted for this." He gives me another hard shove toward the car. "Get in the car." I go to lean down and he pushes me into the small backseat, smacking my skull against the door frame. Fucking dick!
I rest my head against the back of the seat. I peer through the chained metal separating the front and back seats and am barely able to make out Tor being carted to another car. I will do every-fucking-thing to get her out of this. My girl will not go to prison, and my kid will not be raised by strangers. I watch the man gently place his hand on the top of her head as she's guided in. She is in the back of that car because of me. She is fucked in the head because of me. She's pregnant and in love with me because everything else was taken from her. Had I met her on the street, she wouldn't have given me a second fucking look. This may be love for me, but for her, it's anything but. It was survival. Deep down inside, I believe as long as she goes free, this is for the best. She can have her life back. She can have the things she deserves.
Joe got what he had coming to him, and I guess, so did I. In the end, that's what life's all about anyway, everyone getting what they deserve.
I haven't said a fucking word to them. I chose my right to remain silent.
The car pulls up to a tall chain length fence topped with barbed wire. A buzzer sounds and the gate slides open allowing us to drive onto the prison grounds. My stomach sinks when I hear the metal gate slam shut behind us. This is it. I feel helpless and I don't like that feeling at fucking all.
"Welcome home, Mr. Pearson. Just the place a man of your caliber belongs," the agent next to me smirks.
I want to tell him to fuck off, but there's no point. The damn cuffs are cutting my circulation off so I focus on that uncomfortable tingling sensation instead of him. I exhale and slam my head back against the seat.
"You're gonna spend a long time here," he mocks.
I can feel my blood pressure rising, and I just can't help myself. "You shouldn't be so sure of yourself," I say, staring up at the ceiling of the car. "I haven't had my trial yet."
He laughs. "Okay. I've never heard of a man as low-down as you walking free."
"And I'm sure you've never met a man quite like me. I've just been in the wrong place at the wrong time an awful lot."
"You're a bookie, a killer, a criminal. You are going to fucking die in a jail cell."
"We'll see what my lawyer says about that."
The car stops and the agent opens the door, grabs my elbow, and yanks me out of the car. "Get out." He shakes his head as he pulls me toward the open door on the side of the concrete building, and pushes me through.
I'm taken to an office where they fingerprint me, strip me of my clothes, and give me a full cavity search before handing me a bright orange jumpsuit. I'm told I'm wanted on five counts of first degree murder, kidnapping, running an illegal gambling ring, money laundering and tax evasion before I'm ushered against a wall, handed a plate with my prison number on it, and told to look straight ahead. I smirk when the light flashes.
Two prison guards are brought into the room. One stands on each side of me and holds onto my arms as they walk me down the hallway.
"Two? Aren't I fucking special?" I groan.
One of the men glances up at me. "No, just insane," he says as we round a corner.
We navigate through several long corridors and down a set of stairs. They're taking me to solitary confinement? Fuck me. The entire hallway smells like bleach. Inmates bang on the doors and shout as we pass by.
"Hey, piggy, piggy..." one sings behind his door.
The officer bangs his fist over a door. "Marshall, shut up!"
We stop in front of a metal door that has a tiny window at the top. The guard unlocks the door and the hinges creak as it swings open. The room is tiny, with a stainless steel toilet and sink in the corner, a small cot against the wall.
"Don't cover the window. That will get you an extra week in confinement once you're sentenced, buttercup. Don't shit in the floor either."
They uncuff me and turn to leave the cell. The door slams shut with a heavy finality. I stand, staring at the thick bars, completely in denial that this has happened. Five counts of first-degree murder. I will never get out of this fucking place. I pace with my hands clasped behind my head. This is not how my life is supposed to go. I'm supposed to be with Tor, far away from all this shit. I promised her I would never leave her... the baby... I wipe my hand down my face and stare at the cinder block wall. The longer I let myself think about the life I was so damn close to, the more enraged I become. I draw my arm back and punch the brick. Pain splinters up my arm. I slam my fist into the concrete again, and again, and again. I keep hitting the wall until my arm is weak, my knuckles busted and bleeding; until the pain grows numb. Breathing hard, I stare at the patch of blood on the white bricks. Out of everything that has happened in my life, out of all the fucked up, gruesome, heartless shit I've done, failing her is the worst. Knowing that she'll raise our baby alone, that I can't take care of them the way I should; there's no other way to explain how this feel besides that it breaks my fucking heart. I was going to have a life. Was going to.
"Fuck!" I shout, my voice bounces around the small cell. "Fuck!"
I hear some of the other inmates laughing, and I fall onto the cot, the worn springs groaning under my weight. Trapped for the rest of my goddamn life. This is worse than death. It's worse than hell. This is the cruelest form of torture I could ever be sentenced to. Knowing I had a chance at life, at a family, at things I know I never deserved, but, instead I'm stuck in this fucking place. The rest of my pathetic life to rot in here and think about how badly I fucked up.