Page 129 of Judas

Chapter forty-four

Havok

Ihad every intention to ruin Nadia’s day—force her to stay in the apartment. Letting her leave my site, where I am not able to get to her fast enough, makes me uncomfortable as hell. Originally, I had no problem with her going up to the hospital by herself. Matter of fact, we both could have used the alone time.

What made me change my mind? Listening to her cry again. Fury told Xavier she would do that at night while she was incarcerated, hearing her actually cry when she thought she was quiet and I was asleep—man, I can’t take listening to her cry anymore. I swear there will be a day where tears no longer fill her eyes—she’s had enough heartache to last a lifetime.

The fuck was I supposed to do, hearing that? The woman wants space, if I would have rolled over and tried to comfort her she likely would have shrugged me off and got angry. Therefore, I let her be. Before she got up and started moving around, I removed the locking device from the back of the automatic deadbolt and hid the remote that comes with it. It was tuckedamongst other household hardware items in one of the kitchen's utility drawers. I was just finishing up making my morning brew when she walked in.

Tell you what, that woman can wear a damn burlap sack and I’d still want to rub my face all up in her cunt. Let the scent of her linger on my skin—mark me like I’m her territory because I am and I fucking own that shit. Letting her out with those jeans hugging her ass the way they were was out of the question. That was until I saw what was left behind from her assault. Not only does Nadia have the mental ones, but physical ones too? Good God.

After she gave me her trust, there wasn’t any stopping me. I was going to bring her to orgasm then send her on her way. Fuck my feelings about her crying at night. If that’s what she needs, then I hope she knows I’m there for her when the day comes where she feels safe enough to roll over and confide in me. Until then, I’ll stay out of her way. When she went to clean up, I put the little lever for the deadlock back on so she could leave at her own free will.

Now I’m staring down at Lucien. He’s still alive but not at the same time. Heart is beating, he’s breathing, there’s movement in his limbs and warmth. He’s just not… Lucien. I’m not sure whether or not I should be concerned or not over his lack of wrath-inducing determination. Uncharacteristically passive.

I called for his transport the moment Nadia walked out of the front door—we’re ready to get on with our lives. Just need to get this piece of shit where he needs to go to do that. First thing’s first, they informed me they don’t take specimens who may soil themselves or can’t walk. Which was an odd choice of wording, who the hell calls a prisoner a ‘specimen.’

Either way, we haven’t been giving him food or water for the days we’ve been cooped up here so I don’t think he’d need to do anything but if I want them to take him, I need to abide bytheir rules. He also has been strapped down and may need to get mobility back in his extremities. Wouldn’t want the transporter to have to work very hard, now would we.

What I didn’t tell Nadia about them is that this is a paid imprisonment. It’s exactly how it sounds. Think of it as, I paid to rehome him instead of putting him in a kill shelter. He may give the rest of the population rabies but that’s part of the gig. The terrible condition of the specimen adds to their torment. Oh, did I forget to mention that too? Oh well. Buddy-boy here is going to be tortured every day for the rest of his miserable existence—as he deserves.

“What Mama don’t know won't hurt her. Will it, Lucien.”

Brain-dead-muppet is probably my favorite version of him—silent and compliant. Evident when he doesn’t answer my question. It’s fine, it’s fine, was a statement anyway. Crouching down, I start with the chains around his ankles. Removing the lock that kept them coiled securely through all his roughhousing.

Hah.

Since his shoes are still off, I touch his toes to see if they respond to any sort of stimuli. The ones that are still attached, the severed ones ended up in the garbage disposal after soaking in vinegar. Softens the bones, makes them easier to grind up—if you didn’t know. I could have poached them in a slow cooker for a while but don’t think my girls would have appreciated the smell of boiling toes wafting through the apartment.

“Tickle-tickle, psycho.”

The piggies move, but the rest of him doesn’t. Good.

When both are released, I step up between his legs to keep him from jumping up and getting leverage over me. This way the proximity will throw him off balance and leave him at a disadvantage if he happens to bumrush me. Doesn’t seem likehe will but you can’t be too careful when you’re handling wild animals. I’d call him feral but he has nothing on my daughter.

Babel gave me the rundown of what happened with Sadie after her surgery when I called him to let him know Nadia was on her way. She got one up on him, somehow, and almost took him out. As a person, it’s worrisome how she acted but as her father? So fucking proud. Gets that shit from her mom, but damn if it doesn’t make me one happy son of a bitch.

Busying myself in securing his wrists in a pair of handcuffs I left out of the interrogation box, I mentally run through the plan on how I’m going to get Lucien up and moving, then to the restroom. He’s likely very dehydrated, don’t think much is going to come out of him.

Stepping back, I come up to his left side and hook my arm under his, yanking him up and out of the chair. He weighs nothing, malnourished long before he ever was chained down, but more so now. Thank the stars I don’t have to feed him before shipping him off like he’s going to the neighbors house to spend the night.

Takes a bit but I get Lucien to walk around the apartment a while, helping him as if he’s some eighty year old man with war legs. Took him to the restroom too and we spent too long sitting there awkwardly. I was not about to go in there and hold his junk for him—saw enough of it when he nutted on me in prison. A show of dominance but look at him now, barely able to stand. One good gust of wind and it’s all over for him.

“Let’s go, psycho. Back to your chair.” Watching him try to walk out of the half bath connected to the living space is comical. Each step is a partial stumble yet he still makes it. Whipping his head up to scowl at me, I notice a slight knot on the side where Nadia got him.

“I’ve killed for less, Patton.”

Is that supposed to scare me?

“No you haven’t, everyone had to do something to harm someone else for you to kill them. I went back and looked at all your documented executions. The only ones that don’t fit your MO are the hikers at the park. They stumbled on you holding a young girl captive though, would they have ran, you’d be back under the big-house. Calling you a psycho is like an annoying twitch of a hair, just there to aggravate you. Now get your ass in here and sit the hell down.”

The deadbolt on the door turns, the electronic whirr catching my attention. I look over my shoulder to see Nadia come in, she’s mindful of the door shutting securely behind her, old prison habits die hard. When she looks up, her face falls. Furrowing my brows at her expression then see something move just inches in front of my face before I’m yanked backwards and my oxygen supply is cut off.

Nadia

“Lucien!”

I shout his name before anything else can truly sink in. My breath is locked up tight in my chest, refusing to come out which doesn’t stop me. I’m closing the distance with strides as long as I can make them. Dropping my wallet and keys just a few feet inside the entry way, needing to free my hands for the impending riot.

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