Page 136 of Judas

You know, out of all the shit the both of us have been through, riding the elevator down in utter silence is high on the list of things I do not like. Right between dealing with her brother, and dying. I don’t know if it’s the tension or the fact that neither one of us are saying anything that doesn’t sit well with me but there’s no mistaking it. This shit is for the birds.

That’s dramatic, don’t listen to me.

Watching her through the reflection in the well kept shiny metal doors, I notice her staring straight ahead like some sort of soldier—listening to her commanding officer delegate the details of a well constructed plan. At some point in this reunion, job, whatever you want to call it, there was one—a plan. Along the way it burned up. Too many variables came into play and while I predicted many of them, the effect they have exceeded is far beyond what I anticipated.

Would it be stupid to say that I had hoped Nadia would run right back into my arms as though the past seventeen yearsdidn’t transpire at all? To some I’m sure that’s a dumbass thought. And truly, it was wishful thinking. I know her better than that—she wasn’t that type of woman then and isn’t that type now. Deep down, I wanted everything to return as it was prior to the riot. The budding feelings we had that were on a fast path to obsession. How dedicated she was to her job and ensuring my safety while I found enough footing to promise hers as well. I tried, swear I did. Never wanted her to get into the level of trouble she did; thrown into prison for a trumped up charge and another one we could have kept secret.

In a round about way, I cost her. Her life, her freedom, job, home, friends. While it wasn’t my fault, I fell for her and wouldn’t stay away in the end. Not when Lucien threatened me, not when her livelihood was on the line. Yet, as I stand here looking at her reflection in these godforsaken doors, I can’t bring myself to regret the choices I made. We are all here, alive to a degree, and stronger people. Don’t get me wrong, not a single one of us deserved it, but you can’t change the past either. We keep fighting for this shit, or we lose it all together—and I’m not about to lose them again.

The light blinking above the door, indicating the floor number, finally flashes for the Lobby and it almost feels like we’re stepping out of a horror movie. My girl at my left, walking just ahead of me so I can keep my eye on her and make sure she’s safe, baggage—literal and metaphorical—resting on her shoulder. A breath catches in my chest, the fractured rips grazing my lungs and causes them to ache. Reminding me how I need to be mindful of how I’m breathing—don’t want to end back up in this goddamned hospital.

Her pretty face is still fucked up but she is the strongest person I know, cliche to say, but she is. Anyone else would have buckled at this point, crawled into a hole and hid away from the world. Cried themselves into numbness on a daily basis, but not Nadia.No, every day she gets up and fights. She strives to bring our girl home, she pushes back against me too, leads the way for our family while I stand at her back like some sort of wraith. Looming, waiting to take charge if she demands it.

So damn proud to call her mine.

Following her across the lobby, I get a few glimpses of our reflections in the windows—her chin held high. Confident, hiding the pain and darkness that swarms the inside of her, nothing out of place. The sight of her makes my damn heart swell.

That’s my fucking wife right there. All defiance, strength, and nothing beats her into submission. She will marry me one day, I’ll drag her down the aisle myself if I need to. Doubt it will come to that, but the possibility is still there. Wouldn’t that be one hell of a show?

We step outside, through a pair of automatic sliding glass doors when a gust of cold air takes my breath away—sending a shot of pain through me that has my stomach clenching. Takes a few steps for me to finally suck in a breath, the ache bringing moisture to my eyes. Nadia hears me struggling and turns back to look at me but I wave her off. I’m proud, yeah, I just don’t want to stop walking. There’s no reason to fuss over me and possibly get me placed back in a damn room when the doctors and staff can’t do shit for broken ribs other than shove painkillers down my throat.

It won’t be long before everything here is coated in snow, which is all the more reason to get lost as soon as possible. I don’t hate it, but like other people who live in the shit most of the year, I’m not like those who don’t get to experience it every year. As the former, there are things we need to take care of before we get slapped with the first blizzard of the season. There’s too much to ignore at the house, which I can’t take care of if I’m stuck in another country.

Nadia’s car is in the third row of parking, and it doesn’t take us too long to get to, thank God. I can’t help but smirk when I see her turn the key fob over in her hand and search for the button she needs to unlock the door. Letting her struggle with it, I step up and reach for the driver door handle and it pops open before she can tap the button. Perplexed, she tilts her head to the side and it makes me chuckle. I have watched her grapple with technology since we scooped her and Sadie up. It’s funny, but you won’t catch me giving her shit for it—I value my life.

“New cars are equipped with sensors that allow the door to be opened without needing the key fob, as long as you’re within range.”

“That’s dangerous. What if someone runs up and gets in the car before I’m able to get to it, or what if they sneak into the back seat?”

“Good questions, babygirl. It’s around a three to five foot range. At this point, you could fight a bear and win. I think you will be alright. If it makes you feel better, I’m sure there is a way to turn it off. Now, get in.”

She surprises me by not arguing or adding anything to the topic, folding into the front seat when I grab the bag from her.

“You’re not—“

Firmly, I shut the door before she can start in on me. Don’t give a damn about any weight restrictions, there’s not that much in this fucking bag anyway. A gun or two, change of clothes, and a compact laptop. Everything I need and nothing more. I’m not too broken to carry a seven pound bag, okay, maybe ten. As I round the back of the car, the trunk pops open on cue. Placing the bag inside, I give it a heavy close before joining her from the passenger side where I ease in. Hoping not to piss off my ribs again.

Nadia is fiddling with the monitor that sits in the center of the dash. Looks like she’s attempting to get directions back to theapartment pulled up on the GPS. I let her fight with it, patience is a virtue after all. One that I don’t have much of, until it comes to her and Sadie. This is her way of learning, by not asking any damn questions and tapping every button on the monitor until she gets what she wants. Long route, but whatever.

Finally, after what feels like five years off of my lifespan, she stops fucking around with the screen and puts the car in gear.

Nadia drives well, assuming her father taught her—one of the only good things that fucker did. The other thing? Dying. Which I will never be sorry for facilitating. She will be pissed at me if she ever finds out therefore that secret is going with me to the damn grave. I’ve not told anyone, not Matias, not Xavier, not a single soul. Why? Because, like him, his death is irrelevant. He hurt her for all of her young years, allowed her to be assaulted, treated her like shit before she was ever old enough to be on her own. Abandoned her when she needed him, just like her sad excuse for a mother. They all deserve to burn.

Still, though, I can’t risk the secret getting out. Not when we are so fragile. Eliminating pain for her is what matters most. If the cat ever gets out of the bag, I’ll handle it. Fingers crossed it’s not until we’re old and we’re about to pass away together. Her thinly skinned and frail hand tangled in mine, lying in our bed as we both bathe in the sun that spills through the open curtains—for the last time. That’s when I will tell her, I’ll confess all my sins to the only goddess that I’ve ever bowed to.

“You’re quiet over there.” She says, interrupting my thoughts and manifestations into a long life wrapped up in her orbit.

Have I ever said, out loud, how much I love her voice? Just low enough where you know she used to smoke. Slight little rasp in the morning when she’s waking up. Breathy and desperate when I’m taking her apart at the seams.

Probably should stop before I get ahead of myself. Riding back then having to get out with an erection isn’t well mannered—which I haven’t been in years. Calculated, I shift. Widening my knees to relieve the pressure starting to build at my groin. Watching the way the car maneuvers down the road instead of looking at her—let’s pray that calms my dick down.

“Hmm? Yeah, just thinking.”

“Therapist told me a while back that if you ‘think long’ you ‘think wrong.’ So, what is it?”

“Anyone ever tell you that you should practice what you preach? I’m fine, baby. Just thinking about the rest of our lives.”

“Almost didn’t make it to the rest. Think you’re down what… two lives now?”

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