Too Late

It isn’t right.

I hate Asa Jackson. I hate that I ever met him.

“I want Asa to pay, Luke,” I whisper, staring at his chest. I can’t look him in the eyes when I’m full of this much hatred. “I want him to suffer in the worst possible way. And that makes me feel like such a terrible person.”

His lips meet my forehead, soft and gentle. “He deserves to go to prison for the rest of his life, Sloan. You shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting that.”

I pull back and make eye contact with him. “No, not that kind of revenge. Prison wouldn’t affect him like it would most people. I want him to really hurt. I want him to see how much I love you. I want him to be forced to realize that I love you and would pick you over him. It would cut him to his core.”

Contemplation flashes in Luke’s eyes as he stares down at me. “If that makes you a bad person, then we’re both evil. Because I would give anything for him to have to suffer like that.”

It’s twisted, but his words make me smile. I guess when you’re pushed far enough, revenge becomes the only thing that could help you move on. That’s not healthy. I know that and I’m sure Luke knows that. But knowing the difference between right and wrong doesn’t change the way you feel. It just makes you feel guiltier that you feel that way.

I tuck myself into him and press my head against his chest. “Sometimes,” I whisper. “I have these terrible thoughts…”

I stop speaking, because I’m not sure I should even say it out loud.

Luke’s lips meet the top of my head, his hand wraps around the nape of my neck and he says, “Tell me, Sloan.”

“You’ll think bad of me.”

“I could never.”

I close my eyes, not knowing what Luke will think of my confession. But it feels good just getting it out-letting someone else know how much hatred I’m harboring. “Sometimes…I wish that just once, Asa would have to watch you fuck me. It’s the only thing that would kill what’s left of his soul. I sometimes wish he could be forced to watch you take what he thinks belongs to him…”

Luke doesn’t respond for a long time. I start to grow embarrassed that I admitted that out loud. I don’t want him to think I have this fantasy that involves Asa watching us for pleasure. It’s far from that. With everything Asa has put me through, I know that this would hurt him more than anything. That’s all that fantasy is-a way for me to get the ultimate revenge on him.

“Sloan,” Luke finally says. “He did a lot to you that you didn’t deserve. So much more than anyone should ever have to endure. It’s perfectly normal for you to want him to suffer. Don’t ever feel guilty about that. Ever.”

I sigh with relief at his words. He hugs me even tighter. “What would be your ultimate revenge?”

Luke laughs a little. “My only revenge would be watching you get your ultimate revenge. I just want to see you vindicated. Justified. So I want whatever it is that would get you that.”

I love him. I really do. So damn much. I pull my face away from his chest and say, “I love you, Luke.”

He cups my face and says, “I love you too, baby.” And then he kisses me.

But then he stops.

Banging.

Loud banging on the center of the apartment door. I immediately feel the terror, the chills all over my skin, the shaking return to my hands.

Luke is standing now. I don’t even know when he jumped off the couch. He throws me my t-shirt and motions for me to put it on. He’s across the living room, grabbing his gun off the counter.

More banging on the door.

He motions for me to stand up and come stand by him. I do.

“Who knows we’re here?” I ask him.

“Just Ryan,” he says, walking to the front door. I follow him. He leans forward and looks through the peephole. He pulls back and presses his back to the wall by the door.

“It’s Ryan,” he whispers.

I blow out a deep, pent up breath. “Thank God,” I whisper.

Luke doesn’t move. His gun is still drawn and his eyes are boring into mine.

“What’s wrong?” I whisper.

Luke inhales a quick breath, then releases it. “He’s not scratching his neck.”

***

LUKE

Sloan’s whole face drops. She knows mine and Ryan’s non-verbal signal for when everything is safe. And she realizes now that everything is not safe.

I glance out the peephole again, hoping I just missed the signal. But he’s still not scratching his neck. And it’s four o’clock in the morning. Why would he be here?

“Open the door, Luke,” Ryan says. “I know you’re in there.”