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My thoughts go wild, struggling to accept the absolute finality of the situation.
He can’t be gone yet. He can’t.
He was just here…
Maybe there’s still time to fix this. Some way to get ahold of him and warn him before it’s too late.
Uncle Mickey didn’t say he was dead. In fact, he said I have to wait for it to be confirmed…
Jude could still be alive and breathing.
Filled with the desperate need to make this right, to save Jude, I yank open the bathroom door and rush over to the counter.
Before I can reach my phone to call Club 69 though, my front door starts to open.
Freezing in place, my heart pounds with both fear and hope.
Did my uncle lie to me?
It wouldn’t be the first time.
The world around me slows down.
My breath stills as I watch the door slowly open.
My entire being needing it to be Jude.
Needing it more than I ever needed anything.
But the body revealed when the door finally opens isn’t Jude.
It’s the last person I want to see on the entire fucking earth.
Kyle sneers at me as he stomps inside and slams the door behind him. “There you are, you stupid fucking bitch.”
9
Jude
Concerns.
Concernsabout my family.
How fucking dare Simon have any doubt in my choosing of a bride.
Whatever fucking concerns he or the brotherhood has about my family could have fucking waited until I had them safely in my home.
For that matter, he could have expressed theseconcernsat the meeting we are supposed to have soon.
This absolute fucking absurdity is testing my patience. I’ve selected my bride. There is no other choice but to move forward with my decision.
The very fucking nerve of them even suggesting there is any type of concern that can’t be fucking dealt with is absurd. Everything under the sun can be easily dealt with by a blade between the ribs.
I should poison Simon, plain and simple. I should sprinkle a little belladonna in his evening meal, that would do.
Hallucinations, vomiting, delirium, and death…
It would be an interesting way to go.
