Page 159 of Judas

How fucking dare he!

He said he wouldn’t crash this event, he promised dammit. At no point did I invite him, nor tell him I want him here but one thing is for certain. ‘Lias is moving through the shadows in a way that sends chills across my bare arms—a whole different sort of hunter. The kind that lures you away with glamor and sinks his teeth into you before you can stop him.

Forest-green eyes framed by lines of aging, hands so rough they almost leave bruises on my skin in passing, and his warm… deep baritone I can feel in my bones.

My guardian, my nuisance, my Moros.

Extended Epilogue Two

Babel

Watching her is both a blessing and a curse.

When I found her, my cold heart broke for the girl in front of me. Damaged beyond repair and lost in a world that would rather chew her up and spit her out. Covered in blood, crying, trembling, and out of her fucking mind.

While I feel for her parents, every ounce of my empathy goes to her. They made their choices that landed them in the positions they are in, but Sadie? She was given a life that was supposed to be good, one that most people covet and yearn for. She won’t divulge what happened prior to her kidnapping, but I know a broken home when I see one. I saw all of that shit with Mav when he was growing up. You can’t replace certain things—parents being one of them.

You can hope and pray all day long that your life will turn out for the better, and sometimes it will. But unfortunately for Sunshine sitting over there—looking like my damnation and salvation wrapped up in one body—her mind had drastically different plans.

When the rescue and recovery operation was over and done with, I couldn’t shake her. So, like the fool I am, I stayed around. Keeping an eye on her, guarding her when needed. Kept her safe at night when she would leave her window unsecured and her pills strung out like she broke her Pez dispenser.

There were many hours spent simply observing her and the interactions with peers. Noting how they looked at her just a slight bit differently as time progressed. I would have to step away for a breather in those moments, not only because being distracted by her is going to get me six feet under, but because their judgment angered me.

How anyone dares to see this girl for anything other than blackened perfection is unacceptable. She’s smart as a whip too, which I’m sure she can see right through their conflicting behavior and doesn’t let it bother her. I’ll be angry for both of us if that’s what it takes; hell, all she has to do is tell me someone made her feel bad about herself and I will mop the floor with them. Sadie has had enough of that shit in her short life, I be damned if I ever let it happen again.

Over the past five years, I have found myself focusing more on ensuring her safety than doing my own damn job. The guys give me shit for it on occasion, especially after I start volunteering for any job that puts me within a hundred miles of this vicious, and mouthy, young woman. Unless I’m engrossed in a case that demands every ounce of my attention, I can promise you, all I’m thinking about is getting back to her.

I would ask that you not judge me, but I honestly don’t give a damn if you do. I am around her father’s age, and while that may be a hard line to cross and an even bigger pill to swallow, Sadie dishes my shit right back to me better than some of the women my own age. I admire the hell out of Sadie for standing her ground and protecting her fragile peace. She defends herself,fights for what she needs and wants, and unlike her mother, her violent streak reaches that woman on a cellular level.

Listen to me, sounding smart and shit—must be picking a few things up. Easy to do when you’re absolutely obsessed with this feral girl.

In any case, Sadie could block me, cut me out of her life, pretend that I don’t exist, or I’ve died, that wouldn’t stop me. Don’t get me wrong, if she created that boundary I wouldn’t cross it. Not now, at least, but the moment the safety of her life becomes a factor… all bets are off.

Hell and high water will have fuck all on the devastation I would bring about. Unfortunately for her, she hasn’t done that yet. Not that it would stop me anyway. I like the chase and she likes to be hunted. This might be ill-fated, completely out of line, and will set her very-angry father off—I just don’t give a shit.

Pushing away from my perch, I set down the tumbler of Scotch and excuse myself from the event. I did promise that I wouldn’t ruin it for her, and seeing my presence was enough to put her on edge. Sadie’s always ready to bicker and fight with me. The secret is, she trains with me when I am in town. Determined to never be taken again. She only needs some refinement, as my throat vehemently remembers the night she almost took my old ass out. Sixteen year old girl bringing down a Marine with more time in the service then her lifespan. Nonetheless, I’m not in the mood for her brand of squabbling. If she wants me, she will find me.

Weaving through the sprawling throngs of people, I grab my suit jacket from the coat-check and shrug it on. The black linen groans against my shoulders when I give it a tug, buttoning it at the front of my torso— this is a black tie event after all.

Hearing a slight commotion behind me, I look over and down at the path leading out of the venue. The extravagant and tall marble stairs are definitely the statement piece of this wholevenue—Havok’s dad has good taste. He picked this site for this affair, it drips with luxury and malice. The embodiment of Sunshine and I.

I take a sharp right outside of the open doors, versus going down the stairs. I wouldn't want her to get caught up in the dress that has been taunting every one of my senses since I slipped in and saw her in the middle of a dance with her old man.

Hot on my heels, I can hear her heels clicking with opulent obnoxiousness. Honestly gives me the slightest trill that inches down my spine and pools in my gut. The military would say that’s my intuition and should be on the ready for any hostility. This isn’t a fucking war zone though. I mean, it could be, but I’d be at war with the girl I ache to claim with every part of me.

Waiting silently, the flash of her dark purple dress is the only trigger I need to toss my hand out and reach for her. It circles her bare bicep, the warmth of her skin like a balm to my old soul. Jerking her back, I spin her around before slamming her back against the wall I was using for coverage. She lets out a little gasp when the cold building meets the bare skin of her back—that fucking sound gets me every time. When she does it during training, I’m forced to call it and end any sort of hand-to-hand combat training. I’ve noticed she does it when I’m starting to get the upper hand, like now.

Manipulative thing, she is.

Luckily she’s silent. Those bright blue eyes of hers, where I could swim for eons, are blown wide at the sudden intrusion. Her lips are lush and slightly parted. I be damned if this whole visual doesn’t make all one hundred and ninety-two ounces of my blood roar violently through my veins. This girl, no, this woman, is sin incarnate. I’ve fantasized about how her full pink lips taste. How she would feel molded against me outside of the gym. If her fingers would feel just as lovely gliding across my chest and torso as they do colliding with my face.

Yeah, I’ve been at the receiving end of her sharp slap, a few times I confess.

Dropping my green eyes away from the way she looks up at me, trusting of me, they skim over the hollow of her throat where the prettiest olive green sapphire stone, encrusted in platinum, would fit. Whatever shape she wants though, I’m not a picky man, seeing her in absolutely nothing but that necklace has more appeal than I’m legally allowed to discuss.

Beginning at her clavicle, the rough tips of my fingers glide up the thin column of her neck as she swallows anticipatively. Seizing her throat in a firm grip, I award her with a teasing squeeze to the sides where her heart beat can be seen throbbing at her pulse points—erratic with thrill. Refusing to stop myself, I lean in and graze the harsh whiskers of my salt and pepper stubble along the soft patch of skin below her ear. Inhaling her, slow and methodically, committing the scent of her to memory—lemon, mmm, jasmine with grape fruit I think. And sea salt. Not the pink shit from the store, no, the fresh oceanic brand. Unapologetically, I etch the way she smells into my memory, like I haven’t already cataloged everything about her.

“I warned you, Spawn.” My volume is low to prevent eavesdropping but more so to make her listen. To feel the way the vibrating tone crawls along her flesh. “Now that you’ve come for me, what should I do with you?”

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