by August Red
“So his loyalty comes above mine?” Vladimir waves the gun as he speaks.
Luis shakes his head as he eyes the gun, sweat beading across his brow, on the planes of his cheeks. His eyes bleed out the undeniable truth of his fate, and the tiny whisper that breaks from across his wobbly lips, is one of desperation, “No, that—that's not what I meant."
“Then what do you mean?” Vladimir’s voice dares. “Tell me, Luis, how am I ever supposed to trust street-scum like you after this?"
Eyes bulged, head quaking like a leaf, rattling in a hurricane, Luis falls to his knees, the tears falling from either sides of his face. His ashen face distorts, quivering underneath the blackened two-inch hole that holds his fate.
“But you promised."
Vladimir chuckles again, this time not veiling the perverted delight in his laugh. “You should know better than anybody, Luis…” He aims the gun, right where he had aimed it at Roman. Vladimir’s eyes become possessed, scourging Luis with a fire only Hell can follow. “…First thing you learn in this business… everybody lies."
Vladimir pulls the trigger and enjoys watching the blood pour out from Luis’s head.
Judas has betrayed him. There's only one thing to do now. Vladimir leaves his penthouse.
Nothing will stop him from reaching Aston.
Nothing will stop him from getting payback.
Chapter Eight
SHE FINDS JUDAS standing in the kitchen, over the counter. His back is to her. She can read the heaviness of his thoughts.
He turns just as her bare foot grazes against the cold tile, and she takes a deep breath as her eyes drink him in. Wrinkled white t-shirt, wrinkled jeans that he hasn’t bothered to button, and his hair is recklessly mussed. His eyes dim only to brighten when they fall on her.
She is going to miss him so much, it scares her to even contemplate the amount of anguish she’s going to be in. Eighteen years and she never missed or cared for one person enough to understand that emptiness. Until Judas. Her life before him is someone else's life, and Belle can’t deny that there’s no going back. She doesn’t want to even if she can.
He watches her like he always does as she scoops herself onto the counter opposite him. His stare is captivating. He doesn’t hide the primal enjoyment that flexes in his sterling blues as he trails down her body with one heated sweep, only to go back up again even slower. She sees him lean his hip into the counter, his brow darkening.
She wipes the corner of moisture from her mouth. “So… what comes next?” she asks.
“Next?” His eyebrow slants at her question.
“You said tomorrow is the end."
Judas’ stare falls away from hers for a moment, only to find her again, this time giving her a more serious look. She knows he’s trying his hardest to remain detached while talking. He fails miserably. They’ve been intimate now, seen sides of one another that neither have shown before—to anyone. Probably never will again.
Clearing the gravel in his throat, Judas says, “Tate’s gonna have your family. We'll meet up with them and then the airport."
“Airport?”
His gaze fixes on hers, his mouth barely moves when he replies, “Yeah."
“Where—”it’s her turn to clear the mucky quality of her voice"—Where are you sending us to?"
He steps closer. “Don't know. That's for you and your family to decide."
His answer reminds her of the way he first was with her: distant, stoic. She doesn’t like it. “I don't understand."
Sighing, Judas steps even closer, a foot between them as he eyes her reluctantly. “No-one’s gonna know where you are. It's better that way. We hired the pilot and plane under assumed names. They’re not connected to us and once you board you can tell them where you wanna go. We'll never know."
She shakes her head, looking down at the frayed ends of her sweater cuffs. “Oh."
He stays where he is, doesn’t move, but he feels closer. Belle tucks her bottom lip in her mouth. She doesn’t know what he’s waiting for and she has nothing to say. Nothing that he will want to hear anyway. He must have read her mind because he says exactly what she knows he will.
His hand comes up, stills, then rests next to her knee on the counter as he murmurs, “Its better this way."
“You keep saying that,” she whispers back, shakily.
His head tilts sideways, his brow hooding over his eyes as he tries to read her. “Because it's true."
“Yes... And the truth hurts.” She hears him sigh, harsher, fuller, like the weight of the world exists in that one breath.
“It doesn't matter. Either way."
Her head comes up. “What?"
He blinks, but easily masquerades his feelings. “Either way, I could never be with you, Belle."
Her lungs close off, but she squeezes by the pain to get the words out, “Because of the danger?"
“Because of who I am,” he states matter-of-factly, standing straight and away from the huddle he’s created between them. “It doesn't fit with who you are."
“How can you say that?” she says. “After everything that’s happened..."
“It's not that.” He runs a hand through his hair, grips the ends in a tug. “Belle, I'm not trying to hurt you but it’s the truth."
She goes to stand but he grips her thigh and keeps her in place. “I wanted to be with you because it's you, Judas. Don't you get that?”
“No…" he breathes out, uncertain.
She wipes the first tear with a hard flick of her finger. “Maybe it’s me, Judas. Maybe I'm not good enough for you."
“Stop.” His eyes close tight.
“I'm broken inside, damaged goods—”
“Stop!” he yells, letting go, only to crowd her in her seat on the counter. “Stop it,” he orders lowly, into her face.
Their breathing hushes, hushes to silence, only to rise, deeper and darker, like the rhythm of their bodies together, inside one another. His eyes fall to her mouth, swirl liquid-blue as blaring desire unfolds. Judas leans in, licking his lips, as though tasting the flavor of her. His breathing hitches as his neck strains and his Adam's apple bobs.
The fuzzy sensation is coming at her in small doses. She wants to give in… give in and let him do what he wants to her. But she can’t. A very conscious part of her knows the bleeding feeling her soul has been punctured with, isn’t going to end. It’s just beginning. And Judas can only subside it for a moment and then it will be back again. Stronger than ever.
Belle has already lost.
“No… No.” She pushes at his chest and he withdraws. "You… Don't think you can just kiss me, take it away… I get it now."
“Get what?” He drives his hand through his hair. “That you drive me fucking crazy?"
“You know I dislike that word."
His features are fixed, deliciously arrogant and unapologetic as he eyes her straight on. “Too bad."
“Fine."
“Good."
“Good."
“I'm going to go pack.” She goes to move but his hand is back on her thigh, this time there is no caress in his touch. His hold dares her to move.
“No,” Judas murmurs, his mouth barely moves. “No you're not."
“You're an asshole.”
Nothing stirs behind his eyes. “I've been called worse.” He sounds slightly amused.
“Is that supposed to surprise me? Because it doesn't,” she says, with a little less fervor when she notices there isn’t a trace left of pleasure in his face now.
“Little Bit,” he whispers hoarsely, "don't hate me."
“I can’t… hate you.” She plays with the end of her cuff again. He tips her chin up with his finger. "This is better… like you said."
“I never said it was better, Belle, I'm trying to do what's right. And what's right, is for you to be away from me. For good."
“Right. Right, so this doesn't have to go on. This can end. That's better, right? What the hell is so better?"
”That you'll be safe,” he mutters, breathless. “Don't you get that?"
Belle sits and suddenly his agony becomes hers. One tear, just one, slips from the corner of her eye.
“‘Safe’…” she whispers.
“You think I can walk around, doing my fucking job if I knew you were in danger? You think I can live like that?"
“Judas—”
“No. You listen to me. I can’t. I won’t have you in danger like before…” he says sternly, but it’s like he’s speaking to himself. “There's no two-ways about it. You need to be alive, Belle. I need to know you’re safe. That you’re living, breathing—”
“But what if—”
“There are no what ifs.” His hand slices in the air. “You think I haven't thought about this? Haven't thought about any other options…? There aren’t any."
Her chest aches, it heaves in and out, and she lets herself be overcome. Crying, she wipes her soaked cheeks, barely mumbling out her words that are clogged with tears, “I'm not strong enough to take this… I thought I was… but I can't do this."
“Belle."
God, he sounds so wrecked up. “Judas, I can’t lose you. Not when I've just found you again."
“I don’t wanna lose you either,” he reveals, his voice low and guttural as though he’s defeated. “I want you so much but I can’t have what I want."
“Judas—”
“Shssh.” His finger touches the center of her mouth. “Listen to me."
She nods and a small smile breaks his firm pout as though pleased that it’s the first time she’s ever willingly listening to him. “You don't know me or what I do and that's how it has to be. You can’t be a part of my world."
“I'll never see you again?” Belle asks, her voice desperate and breathy. She knows the truth, but she hopes that he will tell her the impossible. He’s already shaking his head. He hasn’t moved away from her. He hasn’t turned to ice. In fact, he can’t stop touching her. The fingers buried in her hair are working softly against her scalp. His chest bumps hers as he takes a preparatory breath.
“I’m dangerous, Belle. I can’t have you or anyone in it. There's too much at stake and you can't be a part of it. Ever."
“But what if—”
His hand tightens around her. “Ever.” His jaw clenches hard, the bone juts out against the skin.
Her eyes cast to the floor with a trembling sigh, “So this is it."
“This is it."
She looks straight into his eyes and whispers the words he’d uttered to her once before, “I believe you."
“Hey…” He grips the back of her head tenderly, applying the slightest pressure for her to look at him. “I never wanted you hurt."
His penetrating stare falls hard on her. Her breaths staggering inside her, turning over as she fights for semblance. “I know."
“You need to be careful." She shakes off his concern with a nod, pinning him with a meaningful glare.
“You need to be careful, Judas, or is getting shot a weekly hazard in your line of work?"
“I'll be fine."
“You always say that."
He leans in. “Because it's true.” His eyes are set on her parted lips. “Be careful."
“I always am—"
“Promise me,” he demands.
“Judas, please."
“Belle. Don't make me ask again."
Her hand comes up and touches the side of his face, reveling at the feel of his gruff skin under hers. Her thumb sweeps his cheek, her insides flipping at the sensation. Her eyes hold his. “I promise.”
His eyes drop to her mouth again. His solemn face centers in her trembling lips, his eyes scorching as he comes within inches of kissing her. Cupping her face, he brings it up, right below his as he leans over. His eyes are glassy but he sounds determined. “Want you to do something for me."
“I can't."
“Shssh,” he whispers, his mouth against hers. “Listen to me.” She looks up at him, his eyes miserable, dangerously gorgeous in their temptation for her to get lost in them. “I want you to live, you hear me? Live for yourself. You've wasted so much time hiding away—change that.” He raises his hand to the base of his neck, as though reaching for something that isn’t there.
His cross…
“I… lost the only good in my world a long time ago… I died that day, Belle… She was my…” He closes his eyes as though a world of hurt just punctured his heart. Belle wonders if he’s referring to this ‘Olivia’ he has tattooed on his body. Just when she is about to ask him who Olivia is, he opens his eyes and Belle sees something she has never seen before in Judas.
Hope.
“If I know you’re out there somewhere happy…” He falters again, taking a deep breath. “…that's all I need. I'll be okay… For once, I’ll be okay."
Her head twists to turn out of his grasp, but he won’t let her. “I don't know how…” she says, looking down. “Without you, I’m lost… God, Judas, I need you—”
“No you don't. You don't. Let me tell you something. Look at me.” He forces her to look straight at him. “You’re fearless, Belle Dela Cruz. You know that? Look at all you've been through. What does that say…? I’ve never met anyone like you—anyone half-as-strong.” He grips her face harder. “You don't even know—"
“Please stop—”
“Do you know how much you have to give? You…” He sighs, falling short on words.
She is watching him now. Moved to the point of pain from what he’s allowing her to see for the first time.
The man he is inside.
The man he never lets out.
For anyone.
She’s unable to say anything but his name, “Judas—"
His mouth crashes into hers, his lips twisting with hers as they intertwine together. Their mouths, folds of flesh, gasping as they turn and dance over each other.
“You're beautiful,” he confesses, pulling back, as if he’s enslaved by his emotion. "You're so goddamn beautiful. The way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you shy away, even the way you bite,” he grins. “Everything,” he whispers softly. “Everything about you fits perfectly in me. That will never change, Belle." His thumbs rest on the plane of her cheeks, wiping away the rest of her tears. “Promise me." His stare locks her in to the point and downfall of her distraction. The rest of his fingers rest behind the shell of her ears, rubbing the sensitive spot, drawing her out. He whispers again, this time firmer, ”Promise me you'll stop hiding."
What else can she say? Belle is hopeless, fighting a losing battle. She’ll do anything for Judas. Anything.
Her eyes close as she whispers, “I promise." His shoulders relax, his nose buries into her cheek as she whispers, “Promise me you'll be safe."
“I'll be fine."
“Judas.” She arches a brow, pulling back a smidge to fully look at him.
The slight crooked grin he gifts her with is marred from the ache that saturates his eyes. “I promise,” he vows, his voice husky and quiet.
She licks the residual tears that have plopped on her cheeks. She gulps them down, fixated on erasing the heaviness that lays in the air. If this is the last of their time together, she doesn’t want to spend it like this.
“You know you're going to end up giving-in one day. You're going to find some gorgeous woman, make her your wife… get a house in the suburbs… I can see it,” she jokes, half-heartedly, placing the flat of her palm on the warm expanse of his chest, right where his heart rests.
Judas is still as he lets out, “That can't happen."
“Because of your job?”
There is a silence, a heartbeat of a moment, where she has no idea what will come next. Judas seems on the edge of something, not breathing, a frozen statue under her.
He licks his lips. “Because it won't be you."
When she doesn’t say or even blink to counter his words, he looks down, scrapes his bottom lip with his teeth. He swallows like it hurts to do it, the
n locks his stare back on hers.
“You, right here—this… this is the closest I'll ever come to that wish. And it isn’t even something I knew I’d wished for."
‘Stop’ she wants to yell, scream for a stop to this. It’s torture hearing words like that, knowing they can never be brought to reality. Judas reads her instantly, wiping his hand down the side of her face, nudging her chin up with his thumb.
“You're unwell.”
“I'm okay,” she says weakly, too worn to fight the stubbornness she sees set in his jaw.
“No. You're not. You need more than Motrin. I’ll be gone for five minutes."
She smiles, her eyes drowsy, her body shrugs into a hunch position, spent from their conversation. “Okay."
He leans closer. “Okay?"
“Yes,” she giggles. He is so cute sometimes. She pushes at his chest. "Go. I'll be fine."
“Thirty, tops, Little Bit."
“I know."
“First, do me a favor."
“What?” She glances from under her lashes.
“Kiss me.”
“Judas."
“Do it.”
He cups the back of her knee, massaging the skin with the tips of his fingers, his mouth already halfway down to hers.
And she obeys, willingly.
HIS PHONE IS RINGING.
It's hard to hear over the thoughts of his heart. Over the last framed image of Belle in his mind.
Beautiful.
Bare in her beauty, reckless in her want for him. Judas still can’t understand how a sweet-hearted woman like Belle can see anything good in him.
The emotion grips him in the aisle. He needs to get back there. He needs to have all the time he can with Belle. He’s never felt… good in his life. Never felt right. And he never will when Belle is gone.
Everything is running out between them. Soon there will be nothing left, and memories will only serve to screw with him. Judas will die from the distraction she’ll most likely bulldoze through him.
His life will never be the same.
He will never be the same.
He squeezes the medicine bottle in his hand, slicing his hand through the air to grab the phone and bring it to his ear.