Page 5 of Judas

Takes me a second to come to terms with him hanging up on me but I eventually pull the phone away. I roll my eyes once I see the empty phone screen. Little prick doesn’t know a damn thing about me. Claiming he ‘knows my type.’ He wouldn’t know his ass from his elbow, let alone enough about me to get a read over the fucking phone. Unfortunately, I can’t do this by myself. I need all the help I can get. There is no way in hell I can find Sadie on my own. Not with that psychopath having hold of her.

17 years ago

“Push, Nadia, the baby is in distress and we need to get her out now” The nurse said bluntly—oddly calm.

Which weirds me out, why isn’t she worried like I am? I have been in labor for fifty-eight hours and we are both suffering. Truth be told, I don’t want to let her go. The longer this takes, despite how tired we both are and the pain I am in, I don’t want it to end. The moment I push Sadie out, they’re going to take her from me and I may never see my baby again.

There is not a single atom of my being that wants to let my daughter, our daughter, go. Not after everything we have gone through. Not after carrying the last bit of Kace so close to myheart for the past several months. I can’t lose her, not here, not now, not ever.

At a point in time, I didn’t think I had anything left of my heart to break but now as my body instinctively begins to push—no longer able to stall—I know I have to let her go. Even if it is only temporary.

Potentially hurting her is far scarier than letting her go to a couple who would raise her to be a better version of Kace and myself. She deserves a chance at a normal life and the longer I stranglehold, the more I put our little girl in danger. I promise I will come back for her, I swear to God… to Kace… that Sadie will know me. She will know everything about him, but right now… I have to stop fighting the inevitable.

It’s okay, baby. Let us go.

I hear him say. Figments of my imagination but it’s him.

The only thing I can do is nod, my hands gripping onto something firm as I scream and push. I don’t stop. Fuck the correctional officer hanging out at the door. Fuck Bluitt. Fuck Darkwater. Fuck the handcuffs that have left my wrists raw. Fuck everything.

I don’t stop. Not until the medical staff pulled her little body away from mine and I fall apart.

Present day

With a sudden jolt, I realize I’ve zoned out and tipped back against the stone wall of the bridge's underbelly. The abrupt tilt must have been what yanked me out of that memory. I am thankful, honestly. Many times, recalling my labor sends me into one hell of an endless abyss. A time or two I was leftincapacitated in my bunk where one of my family literally had to drag me out of it. I would stay in my bed all day, wouldn’t sleep, eat, talk, nothing for days afterwards. Punishing myself for what I have done to an innocent child.

If it wasn’t for Fury and the other girls, the prison shrink would have had a field day analyzing me. Try to use me for some med students experiment while refusing my basic right to consent. Luckily, they all kept me out of that chair—along with my personal counselor too. She was protective as hell.

Funny how karma works.

Rising up from where I toppled over, I brush my hands down the front of my clothes and pat my pockets. Checking to make sure the few things I stole from Sadie's weren’t missing—old habits die hard. Prison fucks with you like that. Feeling them still tucked into the denim, a breath of relief leaves me. They’re only what I would consider ‘odds and ends,’ nothing special to the random person but they called to me. And I had to have them.

One of the items is a small plastic bottle of the same fragrance that I smelled throughout her room—a body spray I’m sure she wears. It’s everywhere there. I also snagged a T-shirt, we’re almost the same size from the looks of it. It might be a little on the smaller side, since I don’t have the frame of a sixteen year old girl, but that’s alright. All that matters is that it’s hers.

Reaching for the hem of the shirt I have on, I drag it up and over my head, toss it to the side and pull on hers instead. It hugs me around the chest but the rest of it fits well. An old and worn image of The Police stretching across the black cotton as it strains over my tits.

Ironic, little girl. I’ll give you that.

The last thing I swiped looks like a key chain. I guess kids still collect those nowadays? It’s circular and rubbery with Batman’s signature gold logo on it.

Oh, her dad would get a kick out of that.

Flipping it over, I get another good look at it before putting it into my pocket with her body spray. I need to get moving, staying here too long can bring heat down on me. The possibility of the cops having my name, all because I was on the neighbors cameras, is grave. Ra said he scrubbed them, assuming that means he deleted the footage, I still don’t know him well enough to put all of my eggs in that basket.

Climbing up the slope, I make it back to the road and head away from the direction I once came. There is a store down the way from here, I saw it when the Uber driver drove by earlier. I can regroup there with Ra, discuss the plan, and pray Lucien hasn’t done the unthinkable.

Chapter two

Babalon

Five minutes pass, before I make it to the gas station. My cellphone starts ringing in my pocket, right on cue, like I’m being watched. Wouldn’t put it past what’s his name, especially since he can hack city mainframes? I’m going to have to turn the volume down on it, or off all together, because it is obnoxious and startles me each time it begins to screech.

Without missing a beat, Ra begins rattling some nonsense about the city mainframes and some shit called cloud storage. Things I have heard people on TV talking about when I would watch in gen pop but never paid much attention to. Standing outside of the station, my sight sweeps across the parking lot and I take note of everyone coming and going. All while he drones on and on in my ear.

Pretty popular little spot, which could be just as bad as it seems good.

“Ra, get to the point. I need to be focused on my surroundings and not decipher a full breakdown on electronic mumbo jumbo. What direction am I going?”

“Impatient. West. You need to go west. Looking for a tall lanky fucker with fucked up hair and his clothes are hanging off of him like ugly groupies. Had a young girl with him. White-blond hair down to her ass, swinging on him. Must be your girl.” He says dryly. “They got into a gray Honda Civic. He’s smart, I give him that. Most stolen car in the most popular color.”

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