The Life & Death of Jude McIntyre by Yolanda Olson

Author:Yolanda Olson [Olson, Yolanda]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-12-21T00:00:00+00:00

I gasped and opened my eyes when I heard the factory doors slide open. I hadn’t intended to fall asleep but I guess I had and the sound of the doors opening jarred me awake.

My breathing became heavy and my heart started to beat erratically when I heard his voice. They had found him and brought him to me and I could tell by the way he joked and laughed with them he had no idea what he was walking into.

I swung my legs over the side of the table and sat up, hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly, I was afraid the bones in my fingers would start to snap.

When I looked at him walking in between Ethan and Adam, I wanted nothing more than to grab the hammer, rush him, and beat him his skull in until I couldn’t swing anymore. Until the warmth of his blood covered me and he was unrecognizable, but I wouldn’t do it in front of Ethan. I wouldn’t do it in front of Adam. I would do it when we were alone and I’d do it when the time was right.

“Bobby Taylor,” I said in a voice thick with disdain. “How nice of you to come.”

He stopped talking in the middle of his sentence, his hands still in the air, when he heard my voice and finally realized I was there.

“Jude?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

A sinister smile spread across my lips. A smile that told him that this was where I would get my revenge, where everything he had done to me, had boiled over and turned into the hateful woman he now saw before him.

“Good luck,” Adam said to him as he and Ethan ran for the door and pulled it closed behind them.

My phone beeped almost immediately after and I looked down to see a text from my oldest brother. Call me when you need me.

I set the phone down without answering him and locked eyes with Bobby again.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked in confusion.

“Do you remember ten years ago? On a night kind of like this one, when you first let me into your room?” I asked, glancing at the almost black sky through the small windows about the huge steel entrance door.

“Yeah. Kinda,” he replied uneasily.

“’Kinda?’” I repeated, my eyes widening in anger. “”Kinda’? Do you remember how every night following that one you would stick your dick inside of me and fuck me until you came inside of me? Do you ‘kinda’ remember how much I would cry and ask you to not do it and how you told me that if I loved you and wanted to stay your very best friend I would do what you wanted? Do you remember how you ‘kinda’ lied when you said it wouldn’t be every fucking night that I was there?”

“Jude, I was a kid. I was fucked up and did shit to you I shouldn’t have. I don’t know why you’re bringing this up now.

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