Page 153 of Judas
It’s not the most comfortable feeling, knowing they are in contact, but it could be worse. Let’s just hope he’s being respectful. I have a few years on him, both of us in our fifty’s, but I’ll beat the hell out of him if he gets the wrong idea about my daughter.
Long gone are the days where my family is being harmed. I almost put Lucien in the ground over them, if it wasn’t for Nadia pleading for his pathetic life, and her owning me, I would havechained cinderblocks to the fuckers ankles and tossed him into a Canadian lake. He’s lucky to be alive, especially since the person he has been trying to kill for two decades was the one that saved his life.
Standing up, the suit I am wearing squeezes my frame uncomfortably. The inseam digs into the most sensitive parts of me but I’m too nice to reach down and adjust it. I’m still not used to civilian clothing, despite being out of prison jumpers for a while. Once you get used to the loose fit, it’s hard to wear things that are tailored to fit your body. I struggled with a simple pair of jeans, fuck this formal shit.
Anyway, my charcoal gray suit gives away to a black button up shirt that I left unfastened up at the top—hating the restriction around my neck. Brings back memories I try to forget. Besides, it shows off the delicate tattoos that creep up dangerously close to my jawline. Which Nadia seems to love—the way she drags her tongue along them while she rides me…
Jesus fucking Christ, get your head in the game, Patton.
Stepping away from my seat, I adjust my cuff-links as I cross the half occupied dance floor. My eyes set on the woman on my fucking dreams.
Nadia catches me out of the corner of those silver orbs of hers and I be damned if my heart doesn’t skip seeing her. She’s in a deep phthalo green satin gown. The straps that hold the fucking thing up look so delicate and breakable as they reach over her shoulders. The neckline is—well it makes my mouth water. It plunging down over her breasts, giving the whole congregation a peek of her cleavage. She looks radiant, elegant, and there’s no way I can contain the shit-eating grin that now pulls at the corners of my mouth.
Nadia Rayle Patton, my wife.
Silver strands look like glitter in her dark hair, the entirety of her locks piled up high on her head in a messy array of curls and escaped tendrils. Those thin pieces frame her face, neck, and barely spill over her naked shoulders. My hands ache to brush along the delicate skin there, to kiss and mark her flesh with irritation from my whiskers… and my teeth.
My demon, as stunning as ever.
Though I can only see her out of my one good eye, she’s so bright I don’t need two to take in everything she is. I definitely don’t need both to see how hard she’s eye fucking me as I get closer. Her head tilts back like it did the day I fucked that mouth of hers in my cell. Trusting me, giving me pieces of her I never have to return.
“Hi—“ I greet in a low murmur.
Nadia laughs softly, shaking her head and pats Sadie on the hand while holding on to it. She’s been clinging to Sadie ever since we have come back to civilization. They are never without one another, making up for seventeen years apart. She doesn’t tell me, but I know Nadia still feels guilty for having to sign Sadie away, even if she didn’t have a choice in the matter. It saddens me, but I made sure Sadie didn’t want for anything. That she was always safe, while Nadia served her sentence.
Sadie, while the typical young woman, has her moments. She bickers with Nadia occasionally but instead of allowing those arguments to soil their relationship, they work through it like they were always meant to. Making their bond stronger.
I can see a lot of myself in Sadie too. Outside of her major features, she has my dry humor which only exists between us. She tried it out with Nadia once before and, well, if you know anything about my past with Nadia, it didn’t go over well. Can chalk it up to one of those ‘father-daughter’ things.
We also bond over music and my dislike for Batman. I still say Iron Man reigns supreme but I guess my dark girl likes ‘em broody.
Fuck me, that explains her fascination with Elias.
I stand here, staring at Nadia as the realization slaps me out of nowhere. My eye flicks over to Sadie, seeing her buried in her cellphone. The word ‘Sunshine’ catches what little focus I can manage.
I’m going to kill him. Calm down, killer, she’s an adult.
Outside of the fact I’m going to be having a serious chat with her later, we like to go out to concerts, ride in sports cars, all that shit you’d typically see with a father and son. In a way, this girl is the best of both worlds.
She doesn’t know it, but I have a surprise for her. In a few months we are going to go to the NASCAR track a few cities over and drive Indy cars—just a little bit of an adrenaline junkie.
I’ve also taken her for her first few tattoos. She got a few of the scars obtained in fighting for our lives covered with the tiniest flowers. Thin lines for the stems and leaves, slight splashes of colors for the petals. Said she wanted to remind herself that beauty blooms in the worst places.
She’s distracted with her phone. I look at her, and Nadia notices, turning to take a peek at Sadie too. Her thin fingers fly across the screen after unraveling from Nadia’s grip. Her spine straightens, shoulders growing tense, and I laugh. That’s my wife in her, that attitude. I guess whoever is calling her ‘Sunshine’ just pissed her off and is in for one hell of a verbal lashing.
Good luck to them.
Extracting Nadia and I from Sadie’s business, I give my undivided attention to the woman that dug her nails into my heart and refused to let go.
Love of my life.
“You look breathtaking, baby.”
“Don’t look so bad yourself, Patton.” She clips back.
“That’s ‘husband’ to you, brat. Think you can manage letting Sadie go for a bit? I want to twirl you across this pompous dance floor before we have to let the emcee take over.”
I place my hand out to her, and expect her to take it. When she brushes me off, looking back to Sadie, I know she’s fucking with me.
