Leave Him in Pieces

by August Red

  “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. His 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 Twelve

  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 the door open, turning the keys that are already in the ignition. Slicing the g
ear 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.

  “Take her to her family," Judas orders.

  “Vladimir’s got a good head-start," Tate replies.

  Judas nods. “Know where he's headed. I’ll be fine. I know him, Tate. Know how he thinks. This is beyond personal now. He’s gonna wanna do this on his own. Save face. No help."

  Not sparing them a second glance, Judas makes his way back to the SUV. Tate nudges Belle forward, but she remains stuck in place.

  “Where… Where is he going?" she asks. When Tate doesn’t answer immediately, Belle's stare whips around to his. “Tate, tell me. Where is he going?"

  Tate shuffles a bit before answering, “To save your father."

  “ON YOUR KNEES.”

  Vladimir raises the gun and brings it against Spencer's forehead. Spencer obeys. The woods are dark and dense like something out of a gothic fairytale. The trees look evil, lurking over them. Vladimir leans over, shoving the gun against Spencer's head, twisting the metal hole in so it makes an indent of a circle in Spencer’s skin.

  “I got a little secret for you. You think your family's safe? You think I'm gonna honor that deal I made with Judas?” Vladimir snorts. “Don't bet on it. Men who aren't honorable, aren't treated with honor. You betray me—don't think I won't do the same to you."

  “No, please,” Spencer begs. “Please. Please don't kill them. Whatever I did, they don't need to be punished for it. Please, Mr. Kulich, I’m begging you."

  “Too late, Spencer. You shouldn't have crossed me. Now you all have to pay for your fucking sins."

  “I didn't mean to. I'm sorry!”

  “If you're a praying man, Mr. Dela Cruz, you'd better start. Because you're about five seconds away from meeting your maker."

  “Please. Please…"

  "Maybe God will be more merciful in Heaven. I, on the other hand, need to see you suffer—"

  “Drop it."

  Vladimir whirls around.

  “Whoa, whoa, Judas.” Vladimir brings his hands up, goes to move closer to him but Judas aims his gun higher. Vladimir backs away. “What the fuck are you doing?"

  “Drop the gun.” There is no trace of feeling in Judas’ order. He is mechanical in his delivery.

  The gun slips from Vladimir's finger, falling between the two men. Judas retrieves it, never taking his eyes or his gun off his former boss.

  "You gave me your goddamn word!"

  “I lied,” comes Judas’ automatic response.

  Eyes bugging out, Vladimir shoots out, ” You owe me this you son-of-a-bitch!"

  “He doesn't deserve this!” Judas shouts over him, his tone deceptively unmarked by the growing confliction inside him. “Neither does his family."

  “Fuck them! He took from me!” Vladimir points to Spencer who remains still with fear.

  Placing Vladimir's gun in the back of his jeans, Judas’ stare never wavers. “He did what he had to. To save his family."

  “So that's it?” Vladimir rages. “You're just gonna let this lying motherfucker go? That's not how I taught you to deal with things."

  “Maybe I learned a few things on my own.”

  “What happened to you, Judas?” Vladimir's voice dips.

  Judas shrugs off the surprise hit of nostalgia. “People change."

  “You don't. You never wanted to."

  “Maybe I want to now,” Judas points out. “Maybe I've seen what a life outside our one can be like."

  Vladimir eyes the gun, shifts nervously in place. Judas never thought he would see the day. The day when Vladimir Kulich would be scared shitless.

  “You can't be serious?"

  “All I know is you're not gonna make Belle fatherless,” Judas warns.

  “So where’s that leave me?” Vladimir asks, his eyes trained on the gun as if it will go off at any second. "You're not… Judas, come on."

  “I'm sorry. I didn't want it to be like this… I didn't..."

  “That's it? That's it?!” Vladimir shrieks. “You're just gonna fucking end me?"

  “I heard what you said about Belle and the rest of the Dela Cruzes,” Judas says, his voice becoming as dark as the night that encompasses them. "This fucking world needs people like Belle and less scum like us, Vladimir! Don’t you see? I can't let you live knowing you’ll come after her."

  Judas watches Vladimir rummage for an excuse. “C’mon, man, I only said that to scare him. I didn't mean it."

  “You're lying."

  “Judas.” Vladimir's hands come up as if that lone gesture will explain away his behavior.

  Fishing the keys from his pocket, Judas throws them at Spencer. They drop near his knee and Spencer picks them up, looking confused. ”Go to the car. Wait for me there," Judas orders, jerking his head in the direction of the vehicle that’s somewhere behind them, passed all the trees. Spencer doesn’t hesitate to move.

  The echo of Spencer’s hurried steps linger musically around them. Vladimir wants to move, Judas can sense that. The older man’s whole face is an open book, a plethora of emotion: fear, anger, disbelief, pain, regret, loss, and hurt. Judas sees it all, unwilling, uncaring, but forces to partake in the moment with him.

  Vladimir is after all the only father he's ever truly had. And what Judas has to do next… he knows it will scar him for life.

  “You're gonna kill me?”

  “You're not leaving me a choice,” Judas says in a voice laced with sorrow. He makes himself breathe, a dizzying sensation trapping itself in his body. “I'm... sorry."

  Vladimir's shoulders straighten. “Fuck you. Your father was right in calling you Judas. I should’ve seen this coming.”

  “I'm sorry,” Judas hears himself repeat a little louder as he cocks the gear back.

  “You're gonna fucking pay for this,” Vladimir threatens. “Maybe not by me but you’re gonna drag that fucking bitch into this life and one
way or the other, you’re gonna get her fucking killed—just like you got your mother killed!” Vladimir screams, coming a step closer to Judas, the leaves crunching beneath his shoes. “You’re all gonna fucking pay," he threatens in a haunting whisper.

  The second Judas feels the slightest bit of doubt, he knows he can’t wait.

  The single shot hits Vladimir right between the eyes. He goes down instantaneously. Flying back in the air from the force of the bullet, he lands in a thud on his back, sprawled out like the perfect white outline of a dead body in a crime scene.

  Judas wipes his brow, the nausea in his stomach cramping him, sending him hunched forward on his knees. But he refuses to let this situation get the better of him. He isn’t going to fall, turn weak-kneed. He did what he had to do.

  For Belle.

  His face, inches from Vladimir's, stares back at the man. The man he had called his father, his friend, his confidante, his savior... is dead.

  Vladimir’s face, in death, is peaceful. Maybe wherever Vladimir is now, he’s free from the demons that made him who he was. For some reason, Judas needs to believe that to walk away.

  He notices a small grin on Vladimir's mouth, and suddenly he remembers his last words.

  Pay.

  Judas knows he’s going to pay.

  He already is.

  And what he has to do next, with Belle, is only going to bring down a world of hurt.

  Chapter Thirteen

  HE DOESN’T LIKE HOW HE FEELS. All garbled, like his brain has been sucked out of his ear with a straw.

  Judas guesses killing the man he idolized since he was seven, the man who saved him from his abusive smack-head father, the man who avenged his mother, could be the cause. But if he’s halfway truthful with himself, it has a lot more to do with what comes next.

  Judas turns the wheel and enters the abandoned airstrip. Spencer Dela Cruz hasn’t said a single word. Good. Right now he needs a little bit of peace.

  A small black Lincoln is parked behind the side of the building with the headlights off. The doors swing open and Tate steps out first. Belle appears from the passenger seat. She closes the door, places one hand on the roof of the car, and a stalemate emotion scatters across her face. The mother is holding the baby, his little feet latch around the side of her torso and he’s playing with the front button of her shirt. They walk forward, but then begin to pick up the pace.