Page 22 of Desperate Valentine

“Unfortunately, I have to live up to my side of the bargain here, Mr. Jensen.” Jude steps forward, close enough to make Charles wince.

“I haven’t done a thing,” Charles says, trying to reason with Jude.

“No? Threatening an innocent woman seems like enough reason for concern, doesn’t it, Charles?”

“I just wanted to talk to her.”

“I don’t have time to hear your excuses.” Jude reaches into his pocket and pulls out a jackknife, one much fancier than the one I own.

“Please—can’t we just talk about this? I’ll leave the girl alone. I swear!”

Jude doesn’t give him the chance to respond before he flips open the knife, spins it around with his fingers and plunges it into Charles’ throat.

Blood starts to spew out of the gaping wound as I stand back and watch Jude pull him out of the chair.

“What now?” I ask in a nervous whisper.

“He’s not dead yet. I have a few hours to kill after my meetings. Wanna officially meet the pigs?” he asks, with a sinister grin.

“Fuck yeah!” I exclaim.

“We’ll leave the mess to the building cleaning crew. I’m sure they won’t mind.” He laughs, dragging Charles out of the room by his feet.

Jude gets to the front door and glances outside to make sure nobody else is around before dragging Charles out to the back of the truck.

“Do you need me to help you lift him?” I ask.

“No,” he says, allowing Charles’ legs to slam to the ground. “I’ve lifted heavier men into the back of this truck myself.”

“Suit yourself then,” I laugh, opening the passenger door and climbing into the truck.

I turn my head to watch Jude pick him up over his shoulder like he weighs nothing, and my pussy aches at just the thought of how I wish he would toss me around like that.

I’m pretty sure last night was just a taste of what he has to offer.

Chapter 7

“I’ll call in andcancel my meeting. This is more important anyway,” Jude says as we pull up to what I assume to be Gunner Vega’s barn.

“What was the meeting for?” I ask.

“My financial ruin, to be honest.”

“My offer still stands, you know.”

“I can’t—I won’t accept money from you, Veronica. What kind of man would that make me?”

“That’s what you’re concerned about? Your manly status?” I laugh, cutting it short when I see the look on his face.

“It’s complicated. Just drop it.”

“Fuck, you’re so damn stubborn.”

“I said drop it, Veronica.”

I let out a frustrated sigh as we step out of the truck. If it were me, and my bar was at stake, I’d take the fucking money.

“Do you think you can handle this?” Jude asks as I walk to the back of the truck to join him.

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