Page 144 of Judas

“Don’t call my dad that.”

“Yes ma’am,” I answer, keeping my smile to myself. Faintly picking up Babel’s chuckle from where he’s perched and is fucking off for the time being. One thing is for sure, she protects both of us, just as we will protect her.

Crossing the pavement, Sadie picks up the brick the coffee shop uses to hold the door open when it’s nice outside—hoping to draw customers in. She steps up beside me and turns to face the front of the building. Her hair is pulled back in a long platinum pony tail that’s hanging down to the center of her back. The lingering wounds she has sustained over the past weeks areon the verge of completely disappearing where you can see the young girl underneath. And just a little bit of color in her cheeks and nose—the cold temperatures biting at her soft skin.

Handing me the brick, I look down at the weight of it as it settles in my hand. It’s just a random brick, nothing special. The corners and sides are chipped down some, missing a lot of its original red hue from when it was first manufactured. The grain is rough against my palm, heavy, and jogs my memory a bit.

“Show me what you’ve got, diabolica. Make me proud.”

Tossing the brick up and catching it, I feel Kace and Sadie flank me on both sides as I think ofhim. Took me a long ass time to get things right, but now that I have, I hope he’s truly proud with who and what I’ve become. Some people get lucky in life and get things right the first time. While that was neither of us, true luck a foreign concept, I finally see the good fortune standing next to me—my family.

Putting my left foot forward, I rear my right arm back then hurl the brick at the large glass window to the right of the door. It connects and shatters the pane instantly. Glass rains down in millions of shards, clanking and skidding across the ground before they encounter enough friction to stop. Kace is on the move before things settle, jumping through the broken window and waving Sadie over. She runs to him where he helps her over the three foot ledge ensuring she doesn’t get hurt on any of the wreckage. I’m next, on her heels. Pushing my right boot onto the ledge, I hoist myself up and over—both boots crunching glass on the inside of the shop when I land effortlessly. Doesn’t take too much longer for my eyes to adjust to the darkness within either—quiet and still in here, like we knew it would be.

“Here.” Sadie hands me a pillow case as we both stalk to the glass door at the back of the open space.

Yesterday we came down and counted exactly how many kittens the bookstore had, a total of ten, before making any finaldecisions on how we were going to go about this heist. Poor things are likely hiding scared or sleeping right about now. The sound of shattering glass was likely enough to set them on the fritz. Doesn’t matter though, they’re all coming with us, thus the bags. Less of a hassle to toss them into the cases instead of wrestling with a carrier and dealing with the bulk of it.

Thankfully, the owners don’t lock the door that separates the two businesses at night. Which makes it easier for us to enter and close away the fumes of the gasoline Kace is pouring all over the place. The scent of books and old furniture upholstery hits me in the senses as soon as we step inside. A better option to petrol by far.

Honestly wish we would have spent some time in here getting lost in a story that isn’t our own, snuggling rescues and relaxing. Nonetheless, I hate that we are going to leave it in ruins when we are done.

It’s a small space, only about twenty feet wide and a good sixty feet long. Shelves of books lining every wall and surface you can see. Side tables, counter tops, even some of the seating has stacks and stacks of novels piled high. Makes me think of an old professor's house or office. One of them types that have spent their lives traveling and experiencing everything the world has to offer before finally retiring and sitting around with all the keepsakes to remember their best times. Drowning themselves in nostalgia.

Sadie is spinning around to my left right now, looking at everything in awe. Her head tilts up and down as she tries to read some of the titles that are a bit out of her reach. Swallowed up by the darkness of the store she begins to venture further in, consumed by the variety of books she is finding. Randomly calling out titles I have never heard of, nor have seen in Bluitt’s library.

Mew.

We both turn towards the small meow, and see a black and white kitten kneading the multi-colored rug it’s standing on. Tail swishing side to side before hooking into a questionable shape. Cute little thing, has no idea what is about to transpire nor what kind of life it’s headed to. Just there, curiously checking us out as time ticks by.

“Psst psst psst,” Sadie calls out and creeps close. Crouching to get the fur ball to trust her enough to approach. When it does, she gives the baby a hesitant pet then picks it up and stands. It’s so cute, I always wanted a kitten when I was growing up. One as sweet as this one seems to be while it rubs its head into Sadie’s chin and she continues to stroke its back. Awarding her a loud purr.

“Well, that was easy,” she says, cooing at it.

“Still have nine more to go, your dad will be in here rushing us soon,” I say, turning to hunt down a few more so we can leave. Her next question draws me out of my focus and puts a new smile on my face again. I love how she isn’t afraid to say something or ask for things, at least with me. The truth about her adoptive parents will come out in the end. I don’t see why Kate would have caused her to attack them if there wasn’t something wrong going on in that house. I just pray to whoever is out there listening to us, that she wasn’t taken advantage of. I think I may just resurrect them and dice them up myself if that is the case.

“Can I keep this one?”

“Anything you want, as long as it annoys your dad. What are you going to name it?” Asking, reaching out to stroke its wild little tail.

“Bruce.”

“Atta girl.” I chuckle.

She giggles and grins at me, giving the kitten a small kiss on the head and places it in the bag so we can go about trying tocatch the others. Fur missiles dart every which way with Sadie chasing after them. Some jump up on chairs and run under adjacent furniture while others climb up the stacks of books. Giving us one hell of a run for our money. It’s hectic and chaotic with the small amount of time we have left but this moment? Traipsing through a bookstore late at night after a bunch of cats is quickly turning into one of the best moments of my life.

Scooping up a hissing calico and placing her in my sack, Sadie belts out ‘ten’ from the back of the bookstore and I hear a kitten cry out. The look on her face has me grinning. She is so damn proud of herself, having caught most of them. Rushing to meet me at the door, my eyes rake over her. Checking for any scratches she may have endured but don’t see any.

“We good?”

“Yes’m. Let’s dip.” She beams. The haunted and vacant look she wore prior to the hospital are long gone now. While I doubt that was the last hospital stint she will experience, it’s good to see the turn around in her behavior and mood. I’m sure she feels better, being seen as her own person and not someone who suffers with invisible illnesses that the rest of us may not ever comprehend.

We both shove through the door at the same time, the powerful and suffocating stench of fuel sucks the breath right out of my lungs with how powerful it is. As if we were moving as a single unit, we both reach for the collar of our shirts and drag the cotton up and over our noses. Hoping to ward off some of the intoxicating fumes, at least until we make it to the broken window.

Sadie begins to cough, which quickly turns into a bit of choking when she gets too deep of a breath. Instinctively, I grab her by her upper arm, fingers digging into the soft fabric of her sweater and start to guide her back to the window. It’sdangerous enough in here trying to breathe, staying around long enough to gasp for air will only make it worse.

Not allowing her to linger, though she continues to struggle with the cough, we move quickly through the few scattered tables and fixtures. An assortment of coffee and ice cream themed nicknacks littering almost every shelf and bit of table space. In a few more strides, we are back at the debris field right as Sadie sounds like she’s about to puke from hacking up a lung.

Kace, in all his glory, is waiting for us and I balk at him. He has a hand braced against the brick and mortar while smoking… is that a joint!? His salacious grin tells me all I need to know. He, at minimum, could have waited to pour the fuel until we were nearly done with the kittens. I’ll give him shit for that later. But this, when Sadie is almost blue in the face? Unacceptable.

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