Marney moves past me, leaving Jude’s office. His eyes lock with mine and narrow as he shakes his head. He doesn’t want me here.
My mind reels over what I just heard. Everything is becoming so twisted; it feels like the odds are permanently stacked against us, and I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop and it all come violently crashing down around us.
What we’re living, it’s a lie, and it will end, one way or the other. I just need to get out before he breaks me, because loving him will break me.
I take a deep breath and knock on the office door.
“Come in,” he answers gruffly.
I step through the open doorway and close the door behind me. Jude glances up as I walk in, his dark green eyes locking with mine. Something passes between us, this familiarity that feels as easy as breathing. He has this power over me that I can’t fight. He’s still the scary guy I met when I got dragged in here months ago, but there’s a softer edge to him, a vulnerability that I can now see, and that scares me even more.
“I want to leave,” I blurt.
His eyes narrow on me before he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his inside pocket. He places one against his lips and lights it, taking a slow drag. “No,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
I tilt my head forward, trying to escape his intense stare. “Jude…”
“I said no, Tor. No!” he growls. His tone leaves no room for argument, but I can’t back down.
“I need to leave, Jude. I can’t stay here forever.” I sound frantic, even to my own ears.
He stands and stalks around the desk toward me. “Need, or want?” His voice is a low timbre that rumbles over my senses.
“Need,” I whisper as he comes to a halt inches away from me. His proximity makes me shiver, and my heart skitters against my rib cage. Every fiber of me wants him, and I hate that I do.
His hand reaches out, stroking over my jaw and down my throat. My breath hitches, and I clamp my thighs together, trying to fight my natural reaction to him. He leans in until his lips are almost touching my neck.
“I know what you need, Tor.”
“You don’t know me, Jude.” My voice hitches.
His lips kick up in a smirk, his thumb grazing under my chin. “Oh, I fucking know you.” I need to step away from him, his closeness clouds my judgement. I take a shaky step backward and he cocks an eyebrow in response.
“Jude...” I try to warn him.
He laughs as he takes another drag from his cigarette. “This isn’t up for discussion,” he says, exhaling a long stream of smoke.
“This is my fucking life, Jude, and this isn’t a life!” I shout at him. I know it’s stupid, and I know it’ll piss him off, but I just need out.
I hear his teeth grind against each other. “And neither is being six feet under in a grave!”
“The only reason that I’m under threat is because I’m associated with you!” I watch the anger roll over his features. I should back off at this point, but my temper surges, pressing me to make him see, whatever that takes. Staying here will only destroy me in the end. He will destroy me.
He drops the cigarette onto the floor and stamps it out before closing the space between us, placing his chest against mine. His eyes narrow as his breathing becomes ragged. I instinctively back away from him, and he follows me. Step by step, he stalks me, pressing me until my shoulder blades touch the cool wall. He pushes his body against mine, and all the oxygen seems to get sucked out of the room. He overwhelms me simply with his presence.
“You will always be in danger, with me or not. The only way you will leave me is in a fucking body bag!” He slams his palm flat against the wall beside my head. His face is inches from mine, his breath touching my lips. “Do you hear me? I won’t let you leave me!”
“So I’m a hostage now?”
His head shakes violently from side to side. “You are not. Fucking. Leaving.”
“I can’t do this anymore. Please, Jude,” I beg.
“What can’t you do anymore? Huh, what is so fucking horrible about all this?”
“Everything! This, us, you...” I take a deep breath and force out the words that I know will cut him. Playing on his guilt, I scream, “I hate you. You’re a monster, and as much as I try to pretend otherwise, you will always be a monster. I can never forgive you for what you’ve done to me.”
He growls, narrowing his eyes at me. “What I’ve done to you? What the fuck have I done to you?” His eyes lock with mine, demanding, commanding.
“I would rather take my chances out there with Joe than stay and be your own personal whore,” I spit.
“You are not a fucking whore!” he shouts. His hand slams around my throat and his fingers clench tight. He’s so close, his lips are almost touching mine. “You’d rather be dead than be with me?” His grip tightens slightly, and my fingers claw at his forearm.
The words are simple enough, but I can hear the vulnerability in them. I know Jude, and he’s not as emotionless as he likes to pretend. On some level I believe he needs or wants me, but this is not right. I feel like I’m losing my mind, whilst my heart feels like it’s shattering in my chest. I close my eyes as several tears slip free, sliding down my cheeks. I can’t answer him. I can’t say yes. I just can’t, but if I say no, then he’ll never let me go. I need him to let me go.
His fingers remain clamped around my neck, his hold tight, but not enough to suffocate me. I hear him inhale sharply before his forehead touches mine, and his warm breath fans across my face.
“Please, let me go, Jude.” I’m begging. “You don’t want this, and neither do I.”
“You’ve no idea what I want.” His voice is low, soft and controlled, and that terrifies me. I can cope with his temper, I can handle his brutality, but it’s in the moments when he’s gentle and kind that scare me the most, because it’s in those moments that I feel something for him, something tangible, something real, something I shouldn’t.
“You know what I want, Tor? Huh?” The look in his eyes nearly kills me. He looks hurt. He has hurt me so many times, and yet his pain breaks me in ways that I never thought possible. His hand moves away from my throat, gripping my jaw. He forces me to look at him. “I want fate to stop fucking me.” I feel his rough fingertip skim across my cheek, brushing away a stray tear. Without warning, his lips slam over mine. He kisses me hard, without mercy. He kisses me like he owns me and he damn well knows it. “You don’t want to leave me,” he says softly against my lips, the slight stubble on his face scratching against me. “You just feel like it’s wrong that you want to stay. Stop fucking with me.”
My pulse skitters wildly as his lips brush against mine. God, I can’t do this.
I open my eyes and meet his intense gaze. “Jude, I think I’m in love with you,” I breathe out before I realise I’ve said it. I never intended to tell him, but he’s not letting me go. I need him to acknowledge how warped this really is, how fucking toxic this path is that we’re on.
He releases my chin and takes a small step back, putting some much needed space between us. His eyes become cold and unreadable. This is the man that I saw the first day I walked into this office. This is the man that scares me, and this is the man I need to see so that I can walk out of here without a backward glance.
He paces in front of me, dragging his hands through his hair. The silence seems deafening in light of my confession. Finally he glances up at me. “You’re right. You should leave.”
I nod as pain ripples across my chest. This is what I wanted, for him to let me go. So why does it hurt so much?
I nod once more, keeping my eyes on the floor. “Okay then,” I whisper, my throat tightening. I don’t wait for his response. I walk out of the office. As soon as I turn the corner into the hall, I break into a jog and head to Caleb’s room. I don’t even knock, I just turn the knob and open the door before falling through it and slamming it behind me.
The room is empty, which I’m grateful for. Caleb is of course going to know about this. He’ll have to, because I’m staying in here tonight. I stagger back and slide down the wall as tears spill down my face. Shit. I should have kept my mouth shut. Why did I tell him? Because I’m an idiot, that’s why. I told him because a niggling gut instinct knew that it would freak him out, knew that it would force him to let me go. I guess the stupid bloody girl in me is feeling stung by the rejection.
I swipe angrily at the tears. I’m angry at myself, really. This isn’t his fault, I mean seriously, what kind of person gets kidnapped and then falls in love with the guy holding her? The kind of girl who was tortured and broken. A girl who evolved in order to survive, even if that meant becoming someone she no longer recognises.
I stay in Caleb’s room until the light starts to fade. I’m lying on his bed in the fetal position when he eventually comes in.
“I thought you might be in here,” he says quietly. “Jude was looking for you. Asked me to come check in here.”
But wouldn’t come and check himself, of course. “Here I am.” My voice sounds raspy and hollow.
He sits on the bed next to me. “What’s going on, Ria?” He strokes a strand of hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“I asked your brother to let me go,” I whisper.
His eyes narrow. “Huh, he didn’t mention that. How did that go?”
“It went the way it always goes when Jude doesn’t get his way. He grabs me by the throat and orders me into submission.” I pause. “Only this time it didn’t quite end like that.” I pick at a loose string on the blanket I have wrapped around me.
His eyes narrow, and I see concern fall over his face. “What do you mean?”
I look up and meet his dark eyes, so full of compassion, so unlike his brother’s. “I told him I love him, Caleb.” Even to my own ears I sound small and broken. Pathetic.
He inhales heavily before releasing a long breath. “And what did he say?” He’s not even surprised. How could he have seen it, and I not?
“He told me that I was right, and I should leave.”
“Goddamn it,” he mutters as he stands and turns away from me. “You’re not going to, though, right? It’s not safe.”
“Caleb, I am in love with Jude, a man who would kill me without a second thought if I pushed him.” I’m not sure that I actually believe that anymore, but I’m the one in love with said killer, so clearly my mind isn’t exactly in the best place to call judgement.
“He would never kill you, Ria. Trust me on that.”
“I don’t trust anything anymore,” I murmur.
Caleb stays with me. It’s not pretty. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced true heartbreak. My heart isn’t broken, it feels like it’s bleeding out, shattering inside my chest.
I press my palm to my chest as my body heaves with sobs. Caleb holds me against him, letting my tears soak through his shirt. He doesn’t say anything, there’s nothing to say. My own stupidity has brought me to this point. I thought that Jude was my absolution in this hell. I’m painfully aware of how ironic that is. We lay here in silence, my broken sobs the only sound in the room.
I cry until I’m all cried out. I will be out of here soon and this entire nightmare will be behind me. My life will never be the same, but at least I’m alive. I will survive. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and I, of all people, know that.
My eyes get heavy, and I fall asleep with Caleb’s arms around me. He may well be my only friend left in the world, and the thought of leaving him hurts just as much as leaving Jude.
I wake to the sound of low voices. “Just leave her alone,” Caleb whispers.
“She’s mine, Caleb. Remember that,” a low growl that is all Jude threatens.
Strong arms are holding me against a very solid chest. I squint an eye open, and am looking at the side of Jude’s neck as he takes easy strides down the hall. “What are you doing?” My voice is hoarse from crying.
He opens a door and then slams it shut behind him. “You’re not sleeping with my fucking brother.” I know him well enough to hear the barely restrained anger behind his calm words.
He lays me down on the bed, pulling the duvet over me. His scent engulfs me, a subtle combination of cigarettes and his cologne. The smell makes me feel safe, protected.
“I don’t want to stay with you,” I whisper groggily, sitting up. I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, the dim light of the lamp playing over his tattoos.
He leans over me, his fingers winding into my hair as he brings his face close to mine. “You are not staying with my brother. You overestimate my self-control.”
“It’s Caleb!” What the hell is wrong with him?
“You’re mine, Tor. Do you fucking hear me?” he growls.
I frown. “I’m leaving. I’m not yours, I never was.”
A small smirk kicks up the corner of his lips. “I may let you go, but you will always be mine.” His eyes search mine desperately. I don’t know what he’s looking for, but he looks haunted. For the first time since I met him, he looks shaken. That vulnerability pulls at something deep within me, something that pines for him, for this strange connection we have, no matter how twisted it might be.
“I can’t do this with you.” My voice hitches and I try to pull away from him.
His fingers tighten in my hair, holding me in place. “There’s no can or can’t about it, doll. This just is.” His lips brush over mine, tenderly, reverently. My body instantly responds to him, and my battered heart feels whole again the second his lips touch me. His lips move over mine and he holds me as though he’ll never let go. It’s the sweetest form of torture. I squeeze my eyes shut as tears slip free, sliding down my cheek.
He pushes me back onto the bed, hovering over me. His eyes trace my face, a small frown line creasing his eyebrows. He gently brushes away my tears. “I’m sorry.”
I shake my head, because I don’t want to hear it. There’s too much to apologise for, and yet he has nothing to apologise for. I foolishly did this to myself, but even in the midst of my despair, I still want him. Despite everything, I still need him.
His lips move back over mine, and my hand skims up his defined chest, wrapping around his neck, trying to hold him to me. I wish that nothing outside of this existed, because this right here is simple and easy. This is right.
His hand releases my hair, and cups my face. His eyes lock with mine, and something passes between us, something so pure and beautiful that it should not exist amongst this darkness. What we have is like a poppy blooming from the blood-soaked soil of war. A beautiful tragedy.
His thumb strokes over my bottom lip. “I can’t change who I am.” He kisses me gently, his lips barely brushing against mine. “I wish I could.” I hear everything he doesn’t say. He can’t change what he is. Our worlds are so different, and in a different time, a different place, maybe he would love me, but this is hell, and in hell there are no happy endings.
His hand strokes over my neck, and he drops his face to the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “I wish I could…” he whispers.