Jude shook his head. “No.”
“I’m not going to jail for this. Those people deserved what they got!” Gene argued, his voice taking on a more frantic desperate edge. “I was doing the world a service. Teaching them an important lesson.”
“No,” Jude repeated. He couldn’t get himself to pull the trigger, but he kept it pointed at Gene’s chest. His brain scrambled to calculate how long Lucas had been gone or how much time had passed since he’d told Rowe and Noah that Schaefer was with him. It had to have been more than a minute or two. That was plenty of time for any of them to run to his position. They had to be close, had to be getting into position to save them.
No one made a sound over the earpiece. He knew they were all listening to at least his half of the conversation while help raced to his position. Soon. They would be there soon.
“If you don’t drop your gun, I’m killing Frost.” As he spoke, Gene shifted the gun to point at Snow’s head.
Everything seemed to drop into slow motion. The muzzle moved as if lifting through a thick marsh, but despite Jude’s scream, it pointed at Snow’s forehead. It was too clear, too horrific. A terrible movie played before his eyes. Gene was going to pull the trigger. He was going to kill Snow. His lover knew too much about his illegal activities. Even if Jude dropped his gun, Gene would kill Snow, possibly kill the others to protect his secret, all while using Jude as a shield to safely escape the building.
A pained roar ripped from Jude’s lips as he squeezed the trigger again and again, all while taking a step to the side, putting his body as much in front of Snow’s as he possibly could. Gene’s body jerked and twisted. His hand convulsed and two shots were fired from his gun, but Jude wasn’t sure where the bullets hit. He just kept firing. He couldn’t stop squeezing the trigger even after the magazine was empty. There was only the desperate need to protect Snow, to protect his family.
Snow’s ragged cry finally rose above the loud beating of his heart in his ears. Jude blinked and looked over at Snow.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. He’s dead. I’m safe. It’s okay,” Snow said over and over again, but there was no stopping the shaking.
Jude looked back at where Gene had been to see Lucas hurrying into the room with his own gun pointed at Gene’s lifeless body. He gave Jude a weak little smirk. “We got him.”
“We?” Jude asked, his voice broken and raw.
“When you started shooting, I started shooting from the hall.” Holstering his gun, Lucas stepped over Gene and carefully extracted the gun from Jude’s clenched fingers. He then turned Jude toward Snow. “I think Snow needs you right now.”
Jude knew he was holding it all together by a single frayed thread and that Lucas was just using Snow to distract him, but he didn’t give a shit. He’d killed a man. A horrible man. But still, he’d taken a life. He wrapped his arms around Snow and buried his face in his lover’s neck. He wasn’t sure how he was going to live with this.
“Thank you, Jude. Thank you for saving my life.”
And just like that, Snow provided him with that first step forward.
“I love you, Ashton Frost,” Jude whispered. “Love you so much.”
“I love you too, Jude Torres. Let’s go home.”Chapter 21Jude walked into his brother’s hospital room and firmly shut the door behind him. Jordan was in a private room now and someone had opened the curtains, letting in the bright afternoon light. For once, he was alone. This room was a huge improvement over the one in the ICU. It had a warmer feel, which was helped by all the flowers and balloons filling every free surface.
Jordan looked up and must have seen the determination on Jude’s face, because he flushed and looked back out the window. It had been a month since he was found brutalized, and it had been touch-and-go for a long time. Add in the fact that he was always surrounded by family, and Jude hadn’t had a chance to sit down and have the heart-to-heart they both desperately needed.
Jude was still trying to live with what he’d done, but whenever the horror rose in his throat, he remembered that gun pointed at Snow’s head.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Jordan said, his voice quiet.
A weak smile jumped to Jude’s lips for a heartbeat. “How could you when I’m not sure myself where to begin?”
Jude pulled a chair up to the side of the bed and sat down. He eyed Jordan, who looked a hell of a lot better than he had a month ago, though his hair was a mess and he was still so thin, he looked like a fierce wind could blow him over. The bruises were fading, but the dark circles under his brown eyes spoke of sleepless nights. It was hard to sleep in the hospital, but Jude knew some of his insomnia probably came from what he’d gone through.