by Hera August
The way he is breathing, hard and raspy, turns her on. His chest, golden and inked, like a glistening leopard in the Sun, thumps up and down so wildly, at such a laborious pace, she can feel the pleasure again of what he’d done to her only moments ago. The small thought makes her body desire for him to drag her underneath and finish what he‘d started.
“You tell me you need to tell me some truth—then tell me.”
“The deal was fake, Belle,” he breathes out, his chest tight. “As soon as I had my orders…" He sighs as though a great weight presses down on him. "...I knew it wasn't a kill. Vladimir had other arrangements regarding you and your family's future. I disagreed so I'm seeing to it you don't have to suffer the fate he thinks is necessary."
“In other words—he wants us all dead.” Her breath hitches in her lungs, and she yanks her hand out of his hold. She knew her father was on the kill-list, but the fate of her mother and brother has always remained a mystery. Hearing it out loud, makes her doubts a living nightmare. “He was going to kill me, my baby brother, my mother—just like that?"
His eyes squeeze shut for a second. “Yes."
“Why?” she demands, her tone thick with anger.
His eyes linger, swaying between hers. “That's something you should ask your father."
“I'm asking you.” The level of her fury rises.
“And I'm telling you it's not my place to say," he replies gruffly.
Looking down at her hands, the image of her baby brother warms her heart.
How can anyone want to harm—murder—our little Tigger? What did Dad do that was so bad to push someone to kill us all?
“I always intended to let you go and be with your family. Deal or no deal. I came that day not to kill your father but to save you—all of you. I planned to make it look like I’d carried out my orders but I was gonna send you away. Somewhere safe.”
“Away?"
“You and your family. I was gonna give you new identities, send you somewhere where no-one—not even me—knows where you are.”
She examines his eyes, seeking the truth that lays beyond. “I... already guessed you went against Vladimir’s orders but if you wanted to send us away to keep us safe, then why take me away from my family? Why, Judas? Why lock me up for a hundred days? I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this.”
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “The cops ruined the plans. I had to take you as hostage in case they found us en-route to the planned safe-house. I brought you here to let the dust settle so Vladimir wouldn’t find out you were still alive. He has spies everywhere…” He stands up and moves away from her. With his profile facing her, he adds, “I know,” then stops before twisting to meet her gaze. “I know this is hard."
A little more able to breathe, like she doesn’t have an elephant laying on her chest, she pushes herself up to her feet, meeting him halfway, and speaks softly, “You can't possibly know what I'm going through. Not just me—my family. They don't know what's happened to me. I could be dead for all they know.”
“They don't. They know you're safe, they just don't know where,” he replies. “I was gonna send you away—all of you—make it look like your house was robbed then tell Vladimir we'd done what he’d wanted."
“Okay... but wouldn't he have wanted evidence or something to see if you got the job done right? Like a head or something." She didn't intentionally mean to make him scowl, but he does, so she zips her mouth shut and just listens.
His stare lingers on her, weighty and dark. “Vladimir…” He does a sorry job of clearing his voice, it still sounds coarse. “…Vladimir trusts me. He’d never ask something like that of me. He knows I'd never go against him." The glint in his eyes then, sends a shiver through every cell in her body. “Until now.” She doesn't say anything, doesn't feel she has the right to. “He went too far this time and I'm trying to make this right for you. That's why you have to trust me."
Belle tries to clear her throat when she notices him coming closer. “Where are my family? Are they near?” Why does she have to sound so unsteady?
He pauses a beat, then walks the rest of the way. Two steps, and he’s standing right in front of her, her breaths shallow.
“They're in a holding place in Falconlake. I’ve been waiting for the trail to go cold. For the cops to stop looking." Somehow he’s able to read the question in her eyes as she peers up at him. “Vladimir will never know."
“He’s a crime lord. Surely he won’t forget this kind of stuff."
“Like I said, he trusts me. If I tell him I took care of it, he won't ask again."
Compelled to dig deeper, she makes herself ask, “And then what? We live under assumed names and start over again?"
“Yeah.” His low reply fractures the thick silence.
Belle is the first to break away. She peers out the window, hoping to God that this is some sort of sick nightmare her warped imagination has created. She remembers everything that's passed since she found Judas shot in the attic. Rolling through the mental list, she’s positive she won’t survive the rest. She doesn’t know how she’s made it this far without collapsing into a messy heap.
“What if Vladimir finds my family?" she asks, turning to him.
“He won’t. Trust m—” He sighs, closing his eyes and fisting his hand at his side. “I'll make this right, okay?" Her lids droop a bit, the weight of the past seven weeks falling hard on her shoulders, and a bolt of pain strikes her. She grips the sides of her head, and in a flash, Judas is by her side. His arm wraps around her shoulders. “You okay, Belle? Motrin not kicked-in yet?” She bristles at his support, nudging him away.
“I’m fine.”
“Don't lie."
“Lying is one of your specialties so don't stand there and talk to me about it," she snaps, looking away.
Unhindered by the words that are clearly delivered to wound, Judas continues, “Keeping things secret is part of my job. Lying to yourself isn’t yours.” He waits until she looks up and makes some sort of eye contact with him. "What you're doing right now is different. You're only hurting yourself."
“That's a risk I'll take if my only option is you."
Silence falls between them once again until he murmurs, “I'm sorry, Belle…” His voice echoes hollow between them. “For the pain I've caused you."
“I don't… I can't believe this,” she whispers to herself, muffling the words in her sweater-covered palm. “You’ve been lying to me all this time.” Her mind mulls over the night they’d made the deal and the events since. It was all a lie. But a lie to keep her safe. Belle wants to keep on hating him. But everything he’s telling her now… it’s only making her need him more.
She watches his jaw work overtime, his teeth milling away as they grind together, but he doesn’t speak up to defend himself. His stare is a mixture of anger and empathy. Both she wants nothing to do with. She wants herself away from him. It’s enough to break the spell Judas has over her. But there are other fears besides his physical closeness that scares her.
“Talk to me," he murmurs.
And that's it.
The way he can read her; it's like he can sniff her out and know which button to push to crack the impenetrable wall she’s taken years to forge. When she’s fighting him, the pull to give in to him is easier to ignore. She can argue back, and somewhere between their bickering and anger, her feelings will be forgotten. But when his voice gets all soft and warm, like now, like a cloak of heat is being laid over her body, she can’t think clearly. Can't respond the way she wants to. A few days ago, he looked like he wanted to bite her head off. Now he’s sucking all her strength away with just one melting plea.
”Fine. If all you say is true—that you’ve intended from the start to let me be with my family—then why play games with me?” she says, a little louder, fiddling with her sweater. “Why toy with me?”
He closes his eyes. “Because I wanted you to hate me.” His words are barely above a whisper.
“Hate you? Why?” She watches him struggle with his emotions. “You said I needed to know the whole truth. It’s now or never, Judas.”
“I don’t deserve...”
A man like Judas has probably never opened up. But she’ll keep pushing and pushing, until his defenses break. She is so close… “What don’t you deserve?” Her voice almost begs him to let her in.
“The way you look at me, Belle...” His voice comes out scratchy, broken. “The reason I’ve been… I locked you up in the basement so you would fear me enough to do what I wanted…” He turns his eyes away and she watches them turn into stone when they return to hers. “I couldn’t risk you trying to escape and Vladimir finding you—because he’ll kill you, Belle,” he thunders. For the first time, ever, she sees fear in his eyes. It chills her to the bone. “Threatening your family’s life was the only way to control you. But even after I do that to you, you still tried to look for the good in me,” he rasps. He bows his head to the side. “I hated you then,” he grits out, tormented, “you made me go against a man who’s been my only father and I couldn’t understand why I was helping you. It was killing me but I couldn’t stop myself. Everything I knew—thought I knew…” His eyes lift to hers and harden. “…You just walked into my life and destroyed everything.” She watches him fight the desperation building inside his body, and only then realizes she’s been holding her breath. “That’s why I made the deal. Wanted to play games with you. Wanted you to see the real me. I’m a monster, Belle. The kind of man who uses people, fucks with them just for fun—because that’s what I do.” His voice rises, and his breathing becomes heavy. “It’s who I am. You have no idea what I’m capable of. The things I’ve done... the things I didn’t do.” He raises his hand to glide over the scripture inked into his chest.
“I’m a bastard, Belle.” His eyes are red and glassy with rage. His fists clench so tightly, they’ve gone white. “I’ve hurt men, killed men. There’s nothing in me that should ever be in your life. I don’t deserve the kind of happiness you bring me when I’m near you. The second I came into your life I destroyed it,” he roars. He draws in a shaky breath, bracing himself before continuing in a gruff voice, “I don’t deserve to be looked at the way you look at me. To feel the way you make me feel. All my life I’ve felt wrong in the head. But you make me feel... right. I… don’t deserve it. I’m not a good man and... someone like you... I was determined to make you hate me.”
Her heart sinks, remembering the night that changed her world forever. “Sleep with me and then act as if it meant nothing...” Her voice is small and timid.
He nods, solider-like and uncomfortable. “I needed you to come to me first. Then after I… after we… I planned to act like it meant nothing to me. I wanted you to hate me so much so everything could go back to the way it was. When life was simple. Without these fucking feelings killing me, tearing me apart,” he rumbles. Watching him shudder, he closes his eyes, sighing deeply. When they flicker open, his eyes shuffle everywhere but at her. “I’ve slept with more women than I can count and never once felt anything. I thought sleeping with you would make them go away, give me back control...” When his eyes finally settle on to hers, they’re fierce with anguish. “But it didn’t. It only made things worse.” His breathing is heavy, tight. “It made me want you more.” Her head spins with a thousand thoughts as he continues, “You and me... it can never be. You’re intelligent enough to know that, Belle.” He licks his lips, his eyes stray low on her face and the heat on her cheeks rises. “But that doesn't mean I don't want it to."
“You don’t…?” Her head leans forward, pushes against her will.
“I don't want this to be over." His agonizing whisper mirrors the ache growing inside her. The words brush against her like hot fingertips cascading down her breasts, bending her restraint to the brink, drawing out her strength like a suction.
“What do you want?” she whispers in a tremor. And like a magnet—polar opposites attracting—she moves toward him.
“I can't promise you tomorrow, but for the time that we're here…"
A blush as red as hers, on skin as white as hers… there is no place to hide. “Yes?"
“…I can make the pain go away, Belle. For you.” His face presses closer to hers, her attention rivets by his mesmerizing eyes and plump naked mouth. “I can give you the world."
“And… then what?” she murmurs, her eyes drift shut as his nose bumps hers.
“Then we go back to our lives. You and your family will be safe and I'll—”
“You'll go back to what you do.”
“Yeah…” He breathes against her cheek, the slight brush of air makes her quiver even though he’s scarcely touching her.
Sighing hard, Belle shakes her head, pulling back from him, as if to ward away the immensity of his power. When she draws away from the security of his warm body, she is torn to shreds within.
With greater care than she has ever seen anyone move, Judas skims the side of her bruised cheek. “Now…” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the curve and dip of the shape, “…is all we have, Belle."
“What if that's not enough for me?” She feels her soul slipping between the cracks. The blue staring back at her, crystallizes, brilliant and undiluted.
“I know I can’t have what I want. Not this time.” He clears his throat, but the begrudging statement of his next words come out strangled, “All I have is right now… if you want it.... I can’t make that promise of forever."
“Tell me what you want,” she implores in a ragged breath. She wants to—needs to—know every inch of him, inside and out.
Her breathing tumbles, staggering while his grows to an audible rasp. “You."
“Me…?” Her voice fades, the residual lace of self-doubt echoing between them.
“You,” he repeats, “just you.” Somehow the distance between them evaporates, diminishing her grasp on what he’s just said, making her lose ground as he nears her, overshadowing her world.
“What could I give you?"
“I owe you… Let me take away the pain I caused… for a little while.” He scoops her face in between his hands. “Whatever you want… whatever you need… desire… Anything."
The urge to give in and crumble, to lean on him without inhibition—all of it is spinning around in her brain at warp speed. “Judas...” She licks her lips, winces a bit at the sting it causes. “All this… it’s confusing me. I don’t know if I can do this and just walk away. Pretend I never had you, like this… I just don’t know if I can."
“I'm not asking you to pretend. I'm asking you to let me wash my sins away with you.” He finds her hand that clings to her side, and pulls it toward his lips. “Here.” He kisses her palm and looks straight into her eyes. “Right now. Belle. Be my redemption."
Belle frees her hand from his and steps away. “I can't… I need… I just need some time. To think about it. Everything that’s happened… it’s too much to think properly… Is that okay?"
His tone is rich and thick in understanding as it washes over her, “Okay.”
He moves in close again, growing over her like the warm shade of a tree. She backs away a few inches, head down, eyes filmed by her pervading thoughts, then walks around him. She feels off-balanced.
“Let me help you get into your bed."
“No,” she quickly counters, shaking him off with a faint smile and turning back to watch where she’s going. “I'm okay.” She limps into the hallway, face to the side, a wall of tears in her eyes.
Silence falls.
Deeper.
Her thinking, her thoughts now, are louder than any shouting or cries she has done with him. Belle has spent most of her life hiding the way she truly feels, but Judas sees it all. It’s wreaking havoc on her, makes her feel like her skin is on a rack and being stretched without mercy.
“Wait." The one word, hushed and growled, stops her in her tracks to escape him.
He enters the hallway, grabs for something in hi
s back pocket, turns it over in his hand a couple of times. His hand is so large and whatever he’s holding is so small, it takes her several seconds to actually see what it is.
“Here.” He reaches for her hand and she lets him. Cupping the back, the heat of his palms scorch her knuckles under his touch. Looking up at him, Judas clears his throat. “I'm going to press send. When the man on the other end picks up, tell him who you are and he'll give the phone to your dad."
“Dad… You mean I can talk to him?"
“At least I can do this for you. But not long. This is an untraceable phone. I'm dumping it once everything’s over, but I don't wanna take any chances. Five minutes tops."
“Judas… I…” Scarce for words, her head shakes from side to side. “Thank you,” she gently lets out.
He releases her hand and backs away, but his eyes never let go of her. “Remember…” The tiny lift of the corner of his mouth tilts. “…Anything."
THE LUMP IN HER THROAT INFLATES, blocking her already tensed breaths. "Dad, I love you."
Belle can see her father in her mind, smiling on the other end of the phone. “I love you too, Pumpkin."
“Tell Mom and Toby I love them and can’t wait to see them again."
“I will. Look after yourself. See you soon, Pumpkin.”
His voice is gone, disappearing just as quick and out of nowhere as it had appeared, like an apparition of her making.
“Yes… soon...”
Clicking the flap shut, she fists the phone in her hand, the first of her tears falling against both her cheeks. Repeating her words, she whispers into the dimly lit room, “Soon...” and then her face falls forward into her cupped hands.
Her cries come unhindered and she’s a little alarmed by how much the tears rack through her body. Her shoulders bounce uncontrollably and the burning tightness in her stomach spreads, making her feel numb.
Belle tries her hardest to remain as quiet as possible, muffling the involuntary anguished moans. Being separated from the ones she loves is like having a piece of her ripped out; everything is spinning inside her. The heartache tears at her.
