Page 137 of Judas
“Did you just compare me to a cat?”
“Possibly.”
“Good thing you love cats—even extra large ones.”
The longer we are on the road, the more she talks. I’m beyond thankful for her taking the lead on this, the walk down from my room and across the parking lot winded me a bit and if I’m being honest, has me overthinking a lot to do with my health and the wellness of our family. I take damn good care of myself, for me to be breathless over a fucking walk? Bullshit. I already know it’s going to take a hell of a while for my ribs to heal up, the least I can do is breathe right.
She fucked me up, the bruising and small number of pinches from Lucien’s handcuffs were the minor injuries. I’m glad she did it. Will I continue to give her grief for performing CPR correctly and damaging me? Absolutely.
Nadia is still talking when we pull up to the curb outside of the coffee shop. Her hands move on instinct, shifting the car into park and turning off the ignition. All while telling me how one of the girls she associated with in Bluitt is damn good at drawing and would do pieces for all of them to send home. Her voice softens, hearing the shift in it makes me turn and look at her. There’s hurt underlining the words she’s speaking, whichis unacceptable. She’s trying so hard, letting me in, explaining more of the world she’s had to experience while incarcerated.
“I tried to remember as many details as I could, Sadie had the longest little fingers. From the brief moment I saw her, she was reaching out—“ she trails off, showing me how Sadie’s hands appeared after she was born. Nostalgia sitting ripe in her expression, making my heart squeeze tighter around my esophagus. Has me wish I could rewind everything, fuck it being the past. Something’s do need to be rewritten.
“Anyway, I had Monika draw her hand sitting in my palm for one of the letters I sent to her. Hoping she’d love it and hang on to it. But, nothing works out the way we intend for them to, do they.”
“Nadia… listen.”
“Oh, well that’s never good…” Defeat in her posture and tone.
Arching a brow, I give her my undivided attention. Rushing through what I’m going to say, seeing the way her hands are fidgeting—no desire to cause her more emotional turmoil.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for using you and Sadie to get what I wanted. It was selfish of me to abandon the both of you when you needed me. I could have saved you from prosecution by denying all the allegations and lack of proof. I could have raised Sadie and let her have both of us in her life without restrictions. And while I know it won’t make anything better, or absolve me, there was a more sensible way to prepare for Lucien’s release.”
Seeing her deflate almost makes me smile but more so it bothers me, she was expecting something worse than an uncomfortable apology—and that’s my damn fault. Racking up a lifetime's worth of apologies in the week or so since I’ve been back in her life.
Fucking hell, I’ve fucked her up with my bonehead choices.
“All I ask is that you know I did it to keep everyone alive, even if it was wrong.”
Nadia sits in silence over on her side. She turned to face me half way through my apology. Her assessing eyes pinning me to the door like a dart—trying to read between the lines of what I have said. Hunting for a lie, rightfully so. I’ve not been the most truthful or forthcoming. With a woman like her, choices like those can be detrimental to anything we have moving forward. Losing her because of a lie, suspicion, or reluctance is not what I want. I’d hope it isn’t what she wants either.
Tilting my head to the side, I watch and wait for her to respond. Seems like a lot of time today is going by at a fucking snails pace—even if it’s only a few minutes. At my back, I sense the cold Canadian fall pouring through the solid glass, the edges of the front windows beginning to fog from our body heat and the moisture from our breath. This is nerve wracking as hell, more variables in a shitstorm of other unpredictable elements. She’s so quiet, added to the silence of the car, that I can hear the ever present ringing in my ears that developed after my captivity in Darkwater.
Right as my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my throat, Nadia speaks.
“This will never happen again. Do I make myself clear?”
Her threat is plain, it’s calm, and unforgiving but underneath it all, she’s giving this a chance. Reaching up to rub the back of my neck, a sharp twinge shoots up my side forcing me to lower it back down.
“Crystal, baby. I’m picking up what you’re laying down.” A slight tick in my jaw punctuates my response. “Where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know, Kace.”
A soft half-attempted chuckle comes out of me. I sure as fuck don’t know either, as long as it’s forward, that’s what matters right? Reaching over, I grab her hand where our fingers instinctively entwine together. Hers thinner and paler, minerougher and showing how much time I’ve spent outside in the sun while she’s been locked away.
Leaning over, ignoring the unbearable pain that swallows my breath, I press a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Then to her temple. Finally, one to her hand when I lift it up to my lips. She squeezes mine in response, and all I can manage is to look at her. See the woman behind the walls she has so carefully constructed to keep her heart safe from the world. Everything changes today. Not for the worst, not for the mediocre. The better.
Unwilling to stop myself, I let her hand go and reach for her. Running both hands into her dark hair, some of the silver strands catch a small bit of light when I angle her the way I want. Dipping in, our lips meet and it’s over. She opens up for me, nothing obstructing me from delving into the heat of her mouth with slow strokes of my tongue against hers. Kissing her impossibly deep, swallowing her muffled whimpers, and letting her feel just how much she affects me. How I am nothing without her but a violent shell of a lonely man.
I don’t stop, there’s no damn way I’m going to unless something makes me. She will have to push me away or pull back to get me to stop kissing her. I need this, we need this. A true moment to ourselves; no Lucien sitting in the living room waiting to be tormented. Our daughter not being rushed to the hospital. Nothing lingering over us like a dark cloud waiting to dump enough rain on us to drown.
No, just kissing. Making out with the only woman I have ever fucking loved.
My heart… my soul.
Chapter forty-seven
Havok
