Page 61 of Wrong Kind of Love


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“I tried to send you to New Zealand, Tor….”

There is nowhere we could run where we wouldn’t need to constantly look over our shoulders. Maybe I could live like that, but not with a child. I know Jude needs to do this, but the thought makes me sick. Pushing to my feet, I pluck a piece of French toast from the plate Marney made earlier, then pour a glass of juice. “I’ll go and take her food.” I just need something to focus on. The least I can do is make the girl that might buy us freedom a little more comfortable.

When I go to the spare room, I find the girl on the bed, knees pulled to her chest. Guilt clenches through my chest like a blade between my ribs.

“I brought you some food.” I place the plate and glass on the nightstand. She doesn’t move or speak. “I know you probably don’t want it.” God, I hated Jude when he tried to force-feed me because Caleb wouldn’t. Caleb. It’s just pain on top of pain, but he reminds me why Jude is doing this, why this is a necessary evil. She will get us, Tom, and then she’ll go back to her life as if none of this ever happened.

“My name’s Tor. What’s yours?”

Her suspicious gaze shifts to me before taking in my bump. Maybe that makes me more trustworthy, less of a monster than Jude’s tattooed, growly self because she looks up.

“Sofia.”

“You’ll be home by tonight, Sofia. No one will hurt you, I promise.”

And then I walk out because I can’t take the guilt and hypocrisy of it all.

_____

The sun has just dropped below the horizon when Jude comes downstairs dressed in dark jeans and a tight black shirt. That, combined with the grim determination on his face, gives him a dangerous edge. Still, it doesn’t ease the fear gripping me. I know exactly what Tom is capable of.

"Don't worry about me, doll.” He cups my face in both hands, sealing our lips together.

I grab his wrists, trying to hold him in place as I kiss him harder, desperate to keep him here.

"You gotta let me go,” he whispers, then pulls back. The torn expression on his face feeds into all my doubts.

For the hundredth time today, I want to beg him to just run. But I know he’d never willingly leave Tom alive in a world where his child will exist.

Jude glances behind me. “Marney, if I haven’t called by midnight, you take Tor, and you leave.” I know a contingency plan is smart, but it doesn’t fill me with hope. Nor does the fact that he hasn’t shared it with me. I guess he’s trying to protect me.

“Yeah, but you best not be getting your ass killed on me, boy.” Marney shuffles around me, grabbing Jude in a hug. “You’re all I’ve got left.”

When Jude steps back from him, there’s a hint of tears in his eyes. “I love you, Tor. Above everything else—” He places his hand to my stomach and gives me one more, desperate kiss. It feels like a piece of my soul is breaking because this feels like goodbye. “I fucking love you both.”

“I love you.” And I force myself to let him go.

33

Jude

Walking out of that door is one of the hardest things I’ve done. Because I have no idea whether I will ever see her or Marney again, whether I’ll ever meet our unborn baby. The one thing I do know is that I’m doing what must be done to protect them. And the only way I can make sure it’s done is to do it myself.

I send a text from the burner phone to Stan as I approach the black Navigator waiting on the gravel drive with music thumping from its speakers.

First Church of Christ. In an hour. You have anyone else with you, you tip anyone off, and your daughter’s dead.

Then I climb in. Garcia’s guy, Rio, pulls off, and fifty-five silent minutes later, we pull off a lonely county road and park at the back of a church lot. Headlights cut through the tree, and adrenaline fires through me like an angry hit of heroin. This is the catalyst. This is either the moment that sets my freedom into motion or my death. Cocking my gun, I open the car door and step out just as the limousine pulls to a stop beside us.

The driver’s side door to the Navigator opens and closes, then Rio rounds the back, gun drawn while he shouts for Stan to lower all the windows. The tinted glass lowers on a hum, and Rio checks to make sure no one is inside before we climb in.

“Drive you piece of shit.”

He puts the gear in reverse. “Where’s my daughter?”

“The second I put a bullet in Campbell’s head, I’ll get your daughter for you. Not a second sooner.”

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