Page 108 of Judas

Havok’s interesting, to put it mildly. Night and fucking day when you get him near Nadia and Sadie—even then he switches. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he also deals with some personality disorder; unfortunately, I do know better. Still not a doctor, but I recognize the signs of anxiety after seeing it too many times on the battlefield. The man is scared to lose them again, understandably. Had it been me and my family in his shoes, I would raze empires to get them back.

Lucien’s existence keeps him agitated, and when that happens he goes anxious. Can see it in how quickly his mood shifts and his body vibrates with a violent kind of energy that needs an immediate release. If not, it may hurt the women he’s spent so much effort on finding and bringing home.

Plainly put, the guy is terrified of his family disappearing or dying.

“None of your fucking business. How’s the girl?” Havok spits through the phone, hearing a door closing behind him when he goes quiet. Expecting a full report like some sort of general.

“Alive, sleeping. Just got to her room. Number four twenty-seven.” Concise and efficient. Answers the current question, and the one’s coming.

“Good, I’ll be up there to watch over her tomorrow. I know you need to get back.”

“And who’s going to watch the devil in your living room? Nadia? That ought to go over like a lead balloon.”

A nurse gives me a little wave, letting me know they’re leaving the room now—thank fuck. My mouth forms a tight grimace in response to them, though I’m still listening to the cantankerous asshole on the opposite end of the line.

“I don’t have all the damn answers. What I do know is that you have a job and this is my family, the rest is up to me.”

“I’ll leave when the girl is out of the hospital and you’re on your way home.”

Closing the distance, having been hovering in the corner like some sort of phantom the whole time, I finally get close enough to Sadie to really check on her. The phone presses to my ear as Havok rambles on—this is the most talkative he’s been with me. Most of the time he’s speaking only to Nadia or hoping to drag answers out of Lucien. All I manage are a series of curt nods for Havok.

My attention is yanked to the side when a small monitor starts to beep. Clenching my jaw, I press every one of the buttons until it stops and goes back to the low whirring sound. Didn’t realize she was still hooked up to her IV pole, that’s how much of my attention Havok has fucked with through the duration of this phone call. Pulling the damn device away from my ear, the screen lights up, showing me the length of time we’ve been talking. Far too long.

Over his tirade, I grunt, “Wrap it up, Havok.”

“Yeah,” he huffs, then hangs up the phone.

Standing here, awkward as shit, I toss my phone down on the dinner table thing you see in shows. It’s on wheels and should be easy to move, but when I give it a push, it doesn’t go anywhere. Checking for locks on the wheels, I don’t see any. Pulling it, it’s still a loaded weight so I give up.

“Looks like it’s just you and I, kid. Would appreciate it if you stayed right there in that bed. No funny business from whoever is driving, understood?”

No response is a good response—I’ll take it.

Hot breaths wake me up, sniffling at my neck and up into my ear. The quickness of them is irritating and sending every bit of my nervous system into overdrive. The weight that previously existed on my lap disappears when a gasp jerks me out of the light sleep I didn’t realize I was getting. Heaving forward, my spine lifts away from the backrest of the chair, next I’m on myfeet— old war instincts surfacing. Reaching for a gun at my hip that no longer sits there, I freeze at the sound of gnarling.

Brows pinch together, my eyes try to quickly acclimate to the dark room by blinking rapidly. Unsuccessfully locating an adequate light source to lock onto, an anchor to bring me out of the nightmare I’m surely having. Following the muted gurgling, the buzz of it forces thoughts of soldiers bleeding profusely through my head that I must shake out. I can’t do this, not right now; not with Sadie in the room, lying over there trying to survive her self-inflicted wounds. This isn’t war.

Fuck, Sadie!

With a heavy step, I move to her but the growling increases, halting my advancement. Twisting, it sounds like it’s below me but close. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I tap the screen. A gentle yellow light illuminates up my chest and face, which only provides a brief relief. Swinging the dull light around, my heart stops.

Sadie is standing just inches away from me. Her pupils are blown out wide enough to compete with sinkholes. Dark, consuming and inescapable. Her head’s tilted, the gown hanging off her young and frail body. In her hands are foot after foot of her wound-up IV line. Blood drips from the top of her left hand where the catheter used to be, so it could pump much needed fluids and medication into her bloodstream. Off in the distance, the machine now beeps in alert while saline drips from the red-stained plastic.

“S—Sunshine.”

Inching to the side, not taking the light off of her, she jumps at me and I still. My free hand lifts in surrender and out as a temporary barrier between us. She’s not in there and that scares the fuck out of me. Never in my life have I seen something like this. I mean, I knew she was a bit off, but damn.

Keeping my back to the wall, we start to turn as I inch again, needing to get to the IV pump to get it to stop its screeching. Anything to keep innocent bystanders from coming in here and seeing Sadie this way. No one deserves to have the fear of God put into them like this. If I don’t get to it soon, someone’s going to walk into a full-fledged nightmare.

“Sa—Sadie. I’ve got to turn the pump off. Nod if you understand.” Stuttering at first, my tongue passes over my bottom lip to quell the turbulence inside. Doesn’t matter if she can’t grasp what’s happening, the IV is adding too much tension to a fuck-ton already.

Taking the chance, I shuffle back, arms still lifted out where the palm of my hand is facing her. Prepared to take the brunt of any force she may sling my way. Steadily she follows each of my movements, as I migrate over to the pump. Stealing a brief look back, I find the ‘silence’ button again, the damn thing chirping again before I’m able to turn it off. Time stands still; waiting for her to come at me feels too much like the hesitation a shark takes before it sinks all one-hundred-plus teeth into your flesh. Then drags you far enough under the water to where you drown while screaming and painting the top of the ocean red.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, prepares you for what the hell happens in a situation like this. Years in the military fly out of the window when you’re faced with the need to ensure someone else’s safety while also keeping yourself alive. When she launches at me, I have to do both of those with no fucking time to think.

“Sadie!” Her name bellows from my mouth as she grabs hold of me, the blood from her hand soaking into the dry threads of my shirt in an instant. The hand holding all of the IV tubing moves quickly as it rears back and collides with my face, momentarily stunning me. Pain pierces my mouth and cheek, a hint of copper irritating my tastebuds.

The few second delay is all she needs when both of her hands shove me back, causing me to collide with a windowsill that once likely hosted an array of flowers and ‘get well soon’ cards for previous occupants. Now, though, I’m scrambling to get off of it even as Sadie presses her weight against me. Hands and arms move quickly, attempting to block her smaller limbs from getting too close. Hoping to God I’m not injuring her freshly sutured forearms in the process.

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