Judas Bane

by Hera August

  Vladimir snickers, dismissing Judas’ version of the truth. “Don't play this fucking game with me, Judas. You understood the stakes going in. I told you we weren't honorable men, that the ends has to justify the means, no matter how fucked-up things get."

  “Doesn't matter now.” Judas tosses away his excuse with a shrug. “You wanna think I betrayed you—I can't stop you. But I'm not sorry for what I did."

  “You're telling me this Isabelle fucking Dela Cruz is the reason for all this?” He points toward the Bentley. “Suddenly now you've seen the fucking light, found some salvation through her?"

  Judas doesn’t like him saying her name. He doesn’t like Vladimir talking about what happened between him and Belle like Vladimir knows all about it.

  Tainting the only pure in his life.

  But with everything else that's going down, Judas has no choice but to take it.

  “No. I am who I am and she knows that. But she makes me see not everyone in this godforsaken world is as fucked as you and me or my bastard father. She saved my life when she didn't even know who I was—that’s something special you just don’t ignore and it never goes away."

  Shuffling his feet, Vladimir answers in a bored manner, “Sounds like misplaced gratitude if you ask me."

  “I didn't. Now let’s end this.” Judas returns his glare back to the car door, wanting to just fight his way to Belle and go, but his features remain detached and in place as he continues. “You want my explanation—that’s it. Anything more between me and Belle is none of your goddamn business."

  “C’mon, Judas. You know it’s not gonna last.” Heat rushes through Judas’ body. Vladimir has the nerve to sound concerned. "Whatever the fuck’s going on with the two of you, it won’t last. And if your balls really have fallen off and you care for her, you’ll let it go now... before it's too late."

  Judas sets his glare over Vladimir's shoulder, forcing himself to rein his temper in. “Like I said—not your concern."

  “So, Judas. Does this little pussy know you dig her that fucking much? You plan on having her in this life, raising ten shitty kids? What? What future can someone like you really give her?!” Vladimir's voice rips through the night air. “You know this business will fucking kill her in the end. Is that what you want? Judas, there’s no life with a woman by your side and you letting her think there’s one is just as fucked as what you're doing to me!"

  “I'm done discussing things. Let her go,” Judas demands, his voice guttural, threatening.

  Vladimir isn’t impressed. “Gimme Spencer."

  “Not until I see she’s okay.”

  “You’ve seen her. Remember? In the cage. And let me tell you, Judas, she loved every second of it.” Vladimir grins, knowing what buttons to push to get Judas over the edge of reason.

  It nearly works. Judas is breathing heavy. He has to stop, gain some fucking control before he snaps and loses it. Next thing he knows, he’s going to have his hands wrapped around Vladimir's neck and that will be the end of it.

  Vladimir grins, the corners of his mouth pinch together. “Fine."

  Only using his one hand, Vladimir yanks Belle from the arm, forcing her out of the Bentley. Judas takes the small second to eye the surroundings. The building opposite him is high.

  Vladimir isn’t alone.

  Vladimir jerks at Belle’s arm, bringing her against him. “Tell him you're fine."

  Judas stiffens, tries to screen his reaction to seeing her, but he knows it doesn’t work. She looks so tiny in that big sweater. Fragile and young. Not someone who should be mixed-up in this fucking disaster. Her beautiful soft hair is falling around her face and he can barely read her expression. In that moment, he wants so badly for Belle to look at him.

  He sees her chin wobble right as her glassy vacant eyes climb up to meet his. His gut squeezes in pain when he hears her weak reply, “I-I'm… fine."

  “Did he hurt you?" Judas asks, his voice low, full of strength.

  Her head shakes, but she seems to be somewhere else entirely. “No."

  “Can we cut this prissy-shit and negotiate now?” Vladimir says, as he watches the exchange volley between Judas and Belle, unabashedly.

  Fuck. I need to end this. Belle looks so weak, about to collapse.

  “The exchange has changed, Vladimir.” Judas’ eyes dart back to Vladimir only for a second before landing back on her. “Give me Belle or you lose the business. All of it."

  Vladimir's shoulders stiffen just as his eyes suck all the air out of the alley, black holes of endless contempt. “Excuse me?" Vladimir spits.

  A tendril of fear cascades in slow inches down Judas’ spine. But the unfamiliar feeling isn’t for himself. His eyes do a quick shift to the woman next to him, then back to Vladimir.

  “Abruzzi's not happy with you. From the beginning he’s been reluctant to link names with you but you offered more money. I spoke with him and he's willing to back me since I made it clear to him—I’m the one with the money. That I was thinking of branching off with my own territory."

  “That's bullshit. Everyone knows you fucking work for me. You're my glorified hit man, Judas. Don't you assume you hold more fucking weight around here than you do. I made you, asshole. I can just as easily destroy you."

  “That's what I’ve led you to believe,” Judas hoarsely lets out. "You don't think your partners haven't offered me more power to join them? I didn’t because I felt I owed you after what you—”

  “Yeah, after what I did for you, you piece-of-shit! I killed your fucking father after he chained you up and made you watch him rape and beat your mother to death—right in fucking front of you! For you!”

  Belle gasps; Judas feels it vibrate through every one of his bones.

  Vladimir’s chest rises higher and higher, and Judas can taste the rage filtering out from the man in front of him. “And you’re wrong. About the money. I did that for you because I loved your mother. I’d loved her since the day she moved into my neighborhood when we were kids. Told her not to marry your shit-for-brains father ‘cos she meant something to me—so you meant something to me, Judas! And this—this is how you fucking repay me, you son-of-a-bitch!”

  “Thought you were a man with conscience,” Judas says, ignoring the pain taken over his senses. “Who had some kind of soul."

  “Like you?” Vladimir snarls, shaky in his rage. “She’s gonna see someday you’re just as evil as your fucking dad—so stop the fucking act!"

  “I'm not the one acting! You're a desperate man, Vladimir. A man who can't handle the pressure of this business. You've become paranoid, a liability. Too much snorting blow. Thought it was temporary but it's not. You and I both know it. The other partners see it. You're done."

  “This is my payment for what I've done for you? Given you?!” Vladimir's tone treads past the formality of his trademark control. “This is what I get back? After all the years I’ve given you—to allow you to be by my side!"

  “You can have your precious empire back. Just give me Belle.” Judas is back to his dull whisper.

  “How’d you know I won’t just kill her right now…? Before I even give her back to you, asshole."

  Judas cocks one corner of his mouth up. "Because you'd be dead before you even moved to go for your gun, old man. Don't forget, Vladimir—you handed me a gun at thirteen. I'm a faster draw than you."

  “What if I offered you more than Abruzzi? More power?"

  “Keep talking." Judas ignores Belle as her eyes widen and fall on him. Vladimir doesn’t catch it.

  “I'll give you anything you want—more titles, you can have your own fucking territory, make decisions on contracts. Be right at the top with me. Whatever."

  “And?"

  Vladimir pauses. “I get Spencer."

  “Just Spencer,” Judas says, his brow peaking in interest.

  “Judas...” Belle implores. But Judas keeps his eyes firmly on Vladimir, knowing if they fall on Belle’s, his defenses will crack.

  “How
will I know you won't retaliate on Belle and the rest of her family?"

  “Send them the fuck away.” Vladimir shrugs off the details, his stare back on the SUV to Judas’ left. "Just like you were going to. I'll never know."

  Scratching his jaw, Judas contemplates the deal they’ve just put together. “Okay."

  “Judas, no!" Belle's voice tears through his body.

  Vladimir doesn’t waste anymore time. “Bring him out."

  Judas’ stare swings to the car before falling to the ground. “Spencer. Out. Now." Spencer doesn’t hesitate. His feet hit the pavement, the door lunging out. Judas plants a firm look his way. “Don't take another step." His eyes come back around to Vladimir's. Judas still hasn’t looked at Belle. He can’t. Not yet. “Give me her."

  Vladimir doesn’t wait; he smirks, shoving Belle at Judas. Stepping closer to Spencer, Vladimir’s eyes flitter up at the rooftop parallel to him.

  Judas was right.

  They’re not alone.

  Judas grabs Belle, cupping her head with one hand, and pushes her hair out of her face with the other to get a better look and see for himself that she’s okay.

  He doesn’t have time.

  Belle smacks his hand away, scratching at his arms for release as she watches her father willingly step toward Vladimir.

  “No, Dad! Judas, do something. No!” she cries out, desperately, as her body wriggles for freedom Judas won’t allow. "How can you do this? How can you?”

  Vladimir nods and his arm comes around to Spencer's shoulder as if reacquainting himself with an old, lost friend. “Mr. Dela Cruz,” he greets with a wide smile. “It's about fucking time."

  Vladimir leads him to the Bentley and Spencer goes without resistance; his eyes never leave his daughter’s. There’s only fatherly concern as he whispers, “I'm so sorry, Isabelle… for everything…"

  Belle struggles, and one arm whips out only to be suppressed at her side by Judas’ iron clasp. “Please…” Her head falls forward. “Judas, stop them. Why are you doing this? Mr. Kulich… Please… whatever you want I can get it for you. Please, there are other ways!" Vladimir turns as Belle's small quivering body shakes.

  “Now we all have what we want,” Vladimir says, his eyes taking a quick look above them both. “Good doing business with you, Judas. But if I were you, I’d fuck that pussy in every way possible while you still can. I promised not to hunt them down. But I never said anything about you. You and me—this isn’t over. I’m gonna enjoy killing you and it’s gonna be slow and painful just the way you like it. Huh, Judas?"

  Judas remains the silent statue. He doesn’t answer. He knows Vladimir isn’t looking for one because the man turns and sits inside the Bentley, closing the door. The engine grumbles to life before steering forward at an unhurried pace.

  Judas and Belle watch, both still for entirely different reasons. Judas’ eyes close tight; the time for thinking twice is done. Now he has to act and act without reservation. After all, he’s vowed to keep Belle safe. Whether she likes it or not. Vladimir has done exactly what Judas thought he would do.

  He’s taken the bait.

  Chapter Forty-One

  OVERCOME WITH ANGER, Belle's arms come up and smack Judas on the chest. He doesn’t even try to defend himself. He’s traded her father's life for hers. It’s an unforgivable act no daughter can understand, let alone pardon.

  “How could you?” she cries. Her forehead comes down to lean on his chest. The trembles of her body seep into his, but Judas forces himself still, like he's tied down with invisible rope.

  This isn’t the time or the place.

  "How could you?" Her head comes up again, strands of hair covering her face. His arms move up but she slaps them away. “I thought I could trust you.” She pushes hard, does her best to shove him, but he doesn’t budge an inch. "I don't care what you think about my father, he doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t!" Another shove.

  Belle's fist comes down for a second blow, but before it can strike, the ricochet of a bullet hits the brick wall opposite them. There's only a mere second for Judas to react properly.

  Grabbing her by the wrist, he drags her, but it doesn't stop her from digging her heels into the pavement. It slows him down too long for his liking. But whoever the shooter is, he’s a bad shot, and luckily they aren’t far from the small awning of one of the back entrances of the shop in front. Judas doesn’t mean to be rough with Belle, but he has no choice. He throws her with his arms around hers, into the wall, securing them both under the small shield of the paper-thin blockade.

  “Get off me!” Her knee comes up, and she gets a good kick-in when he goes for his gun. “I'm not staying with you.”

  Belle is still unaware of the present danger that’s leaped on them. He jams the hammer of his gun down, focusing on the immediate problem and nothing else. Unperturbed by her antics, he only watches her throw slit-eyes before going back to what he’s doing.

  Another shot rings out, hitting the corner behind Judas’ right.

  Belle gasps. “What… what are you—”

  He presses himself into her, allowing a little more space between the shots and them. “Listen to me,” he orders, covering her mouth when she opens it to argue. She shakes her head, tries to bite her way through his palm, but he jerks her against the wall. “You. Listen to me. Gotta get you out of here."

  “Screw you,” she mumbles through his hand. Her face is bright red and her nostrils are flaring.

  “Don't move. You hear me? Don't fucking move. We're safe under here right now," he hisses.

  She doesn’t say anything, but her stare is so tangible with hate, Judas has to blink for a second. He lets go of Belle, knowing he has to, and slides next to her, leaning his back against the wall, shoulder-to-shoulder with her. He peeks his head out to take a few undirected shots—let the guy know he's there and armed. With his other hand, Judas retrieves his phone from his front pocket, finds the right buttons and dials blindly. The shooter, who is unidentifiable in black, moves over a bit, his shots closer to where they’re sheltered. He pushes Belle with his shoulder and she moves along willingly this time, numb and pale by his side. He darts a look out, sees a glimpse of black, and shoots a couple of more times before going back under the awning, putting the phone to his ear.

  Tate picks up on the second ring. “Where're you?” Judas barks.

  “I'm here. Right around the corner like you said to be."

  Judas whispers calmly despite the danger looming over them, “Need you now. Take her and run."

  “Got it."

  The phone clicks and Judas breathes out, readying himself, gulping down what feels like gallons of much needed air. His lungs burn from the pressure building up. He’s used to these moments, they're a part of him like anything else. But never once has he had a woman by his side.

  Belle Dela Cruz.

  Somebody to die for.

  “Look at me." She complies immediately. “I need you to run when I say so." She nods her head. Judas takes that as a good sign. “The car’s right there. It's unlocked. I'm gonna cover you. When I say go—you go."

  Her head comes down and he’s prepared to argue, shake her into submission if need be, but all she does is shake, tiny tremors quaking the flesh of her lower lip. “O-Okay."

  “Okay. You ready?"

  “Yeah...” She moves her body in front of him and his hand comes around, molding her shoulder. He squeezes the skin tight, kisses the soft crown on her head so lightly, he knows she doesn’t feel it. He's glad she doesn’t.

  “Go!” he whispers, fiercely.

  Belle runs off like a jackrabbit and Judas follows, pointing his gun up and firing as he runs behind her. He hears the car door slam, and the pinch of worry in his gut subsides an inch.

  She's safe.

  His hand curves around the car latch, his eyes shoot up. He fires randomly, hoping he hits something, but he's sure whoever is up there is probably waiting for him to get in the car to follow him. He throws t
he door open, turning the keys that are already in the ignition. Slicing the gear into drive, his foot is on the gas, screeching forward as they race out of the alley.

  The gun shots are more distant this time but feel only a scant breath away from them. Judas whips the large car around the corner, grateful it's in the middle of the night and not any other time. He looks to his side. Belle sits awkward and stiff next to him. They're in the car for what has to be ten seconds before he pulls behind another set of buildings. This time, there’s a black truck waiting for them.

  The car stops. Judas kills the ignition and pushes the door open. When he realizes Belle hasn’t followed, he’s already out of the car and halfway toward Tate. He comes around her side. Doesn't look at her. Doesn't want to. He knows it will stop him somehow, and he doesn’t have time to slow himself down.

  He opens the door for her, feels her eyes on him. He hates that her stare kills something inside him. “Get out, Belle.” There is no courtesy to his demand.

  She objects with her eyes, and it's enough for him to know that they can be sitting there for hours arguing. His hand comes around her elbow, cupping her soft skin with his hard fingers.

  Judas understands now why he can’t look at her. Because if he does, he'll want to kiss her. Kiss her and hold her, have her lock her body around his, feel her heartbeat against his chest, just so he can be sure his Little Bit is okay. Safe. He wants to badly, so badly, his skin feels like it’s shrunken in size, unfit for his feelings.

  “Belle, get out.” He comes closer, hovering over, knowing she hates it when he does that. His eyes cast down, gazing at his hand around her. “Don't have time for this."

  “Judas."

  Belle's head comes up and finds Tate. Instantly, she releases herself from Judas, her limbs moving quite fast, seemingly motivated by Tate's sudden presence. “Tate.” Her voice sounds shattered like she’s been crying for hours. “What’re you doing here?” She hugs Tate and Judas tenses, feeling Tate's awkwardness burgeon along with a flick of fire that courses through his own veins. Judas doesn’t waste time feigning the fact that he hates what he just saw, but he’s helpless and has to stay on track. He goes around the car, glances at Tate, shifts his gaze to Belle, then back.