Page 106 of Judas

This is tiresome. The back-and-forth, the emotional immaturity between us. Please tell me it won’t always be like this. We’re both different people, yeah, but fuck me. We’re not so different that we have to go through the introductory stage of dating, right? Restraining the huff I desperately want to breathe out, my hand releases her shirt and glides back over her waist.

“It’s beautiful in the fall, close enough to access major cities but not so close where crime is on our front door. There’s a university in town, too. I also wanted space for all of us,” I answer.

She softens a fraction, that’s it… Only a fraction, but Nadia steps between my spread legs anyway. An assessing look in those silver eyes of hers, the same ones that use to judge and leer over me when I was in prison. Plump lips I can’t get enough of press together, and in my peripherals I can see her fingers twitching, like she can’t decide if she wants to reach for me or push me away.

Damnit, Nadia, please don’t do this.

“Na—“

“Is that… what you thought would happen?”

Knowing she would be reluctant to anything that pushes out of her comfort zone, I prepared with a hundred different rebuttals. This question, unfortunately, was not on the list of possibilities. Unprepared as I have always been with her—she’s unpredictable and I’d be a damn liar if I said it wasn’t one of my favorite qualities about her. Keeping me on the edge of my seat, on my toes, anxiety ridden, is an understatement. Still, she needs to elaborate more. I don’t want to answer her in any way that will make her question herself.

Tilting my head back, we meet eye to eye, both of my hands coming to rest on the back of her thighs now. My thumbs brushidly along the soft skin beneath the curve of her ass. Allowing me to subconsciously anchor myself to her.

“Please elaborate. I want to make sure I’m answering your question in full.”

The flash of a scowl shifts through her expression, causing me to instantly still and drop my hands away from her.Shit.I didn’t even consider the possibility that she wouldn’t want to be touched—not after what she went through. When she takes too long to answer, I motion for her to step back so I can stand. My right hand cradles the back of my head and neck as I try to soothe myself and ward off the unease.

“Use your words.” Not unkind, my tone remains firm the longer I speak.

Her demeanor shifts in a blink of an eye and I find it maddening. She’s harboring so much in that head of hers, which I can’t fucking read. Locked down like Fort Knox all over again, giving nothing away even if her expressions scream for someone to listen. Patience may be a virtue but I’m losing all of mine the longer she holds back.

I’m here… fuck… let me in.

Soft white teeth capture the inside of her bottom lip. I see how she pulls at the skin there. Then the corner, where her lip muscles meet the cheek ones, actively chewing on the flesh. Bringing my hand back down, it embraces the side of her face. My thumb passes over her bottom lip, where I gently guide the meat from between her teeth. Finally, after an eternity, she sighs.

“Did you think, when I got out, that we’d pack away and live happily ever after? House, land, ducks and shit running around outside—a white picket fence?”

“Not at all, Nadia. White isn’t our color, for one. Two, I wanted you to have a safe place to find yourself and to heal. Living happily ever after, while ideal, is not in our cards.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, not in our cards?!” Her face flushes, the anger matching the venom-laced pitch of her voice.

“However you interpreted that is not the way I meant it.”

“Then what the fuck did you mean, Kace?” Shouting this time, she jerks her face back away from my hand. That only pisses me off and adds to the barreling storm.

“You and I are both old enough to know that our lives are too chaotic and jacked up to live in some fucking fairy tale, Nadia. I’m not saying that we won’t be happy. Will take time and a lot of therapy… A LOT… but our relationship will never have a painless ending. That’s what I fucking meant.” Gritting my teeth and speaking through them, I hope to God I don’t look like some feral beast.

“Then why pretend by buying that house, living out there, putting us where we can have hopes and dreams? If that’s all they will be!?”

I understand her reluctance, the disbelief, and whatnot but I am over her screaming at me like she’s lost her damn mind.

“Stop your fucking yelling, Nadia. I’m done listening to it. You can speak to me like you have some sort of common sense or shut your mouth. I get that this is stressful and you have doubts about the future, but damnit to hell, I’m trying here. I chose that house, in that area, because it felt right. It’s the only fucking place to feel like home since I walked into Darkwater. The only peace I’ve felt since watching you stare up at the night sky, and fuck me, I want to share that with you, too.”

Darkened, furious eyes glare at me while her shoulders tremble with the wrath some of my actions rightfully deserve. I’ll be damned if I let her scream and shout at me all because she doesn’t understand, didn’t comprehend what I meant. She can talk to me about anything, question the choices I made and theiroutcome until she is blue in the face, but the least she could do is talk to me like I’m a person and not an inmate.

Stepping to the side, I move away from her and beeline to the closet. There’s got to be another shirt and pair of jeans or something in here that I can put on. The clothes I wear get burned when I’m done beating the fuck out of Lucien, thus I’m running low. I need to get out of here, though; a walk, fresh air, music, something to bring me back down to earth. I refuse to direct my anger at her over something as minuscule as miscommunication. No, she deserves better than that and frankly, so do I.

Finding a long-sleeve dark green Carhart shirt and pulling it on, I shuck the sweats and slide into a pair of jeans, socks too. Seeing a dark gray beanie on one of the shelves, it’s quickly collected and shoved into the back pocket of my pants as I make my way back to the bedroom. When I step inside, Nadia is sitting on a chair in front of the window. Feet pressed into the cushion with her knees bent up before her. Just like Sadie sits, closed in on herself.

We are far from normal and I still want to do normal shit for her. Apologize with flowers and chocolates, grovel for yelling at her, kiss away every ounce of frustration I made her feel. That’s just not us, though. We are so far outside of the cookie cutter, we’ve created a whole new mold. I also don’t know if she likes flowers nor what kind that would be.

She seems like a wild flower kind of woman, actually.

“I’m heading out, is there anything you need?” I ask, tugging my jacket on at the same time.

“No. Going to stay here in my ivory-fucking-tower.”

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