Page 95 of Judas

"BABALON!” Nadia cries out.

Her cunt clamps down on me, the force so mind numbing that my movements stutter. It takes me a few struggling breaths, all while she screams, to resume. Pounding into her until the agony of holding back becomes unbearable. Releasing a groan, I pull back until only half of my cock is still inside of her and lose my fucking mind. My orgasm rips through me, balls drawing up closer to the center of my mass before the first spurt starts filling her. Long, intense throbs help me empty every drop into the woman under me. Needing to hold onto her with one shaking hand, the other fisting the backrest of Lucien’s chair.

"Good girl. And you, mother fucker,” Rasping through my words, “must be Judas, because I am her Chaos, and she’s mine."

Helping Nadia clean up and redress has always been something I’ve favored in our time together. There’s something about keeping her upright, cleaning my mess from the still-pulsing skin of her pussy or shoving it back inside of her, that makes me want to lay her down and repeat everything I’ve done thus far.

Wrecked looks stunning on her. So much so I have to force myself to look away from her. That way I can get her pants back where they belong and help her through the bedroom and to the shower. She isn’t looking anywhere but the floor right now, which tells me she’s about to hit some emotions she’s not experienced in a long tim. I’ll need to, and will want to, comfort her when she faces them.

Cupping her face, I gently angle her head back a bit so my eyes can meet hers—this is the part I’m not a fan of seeing. Her, on the brink of tears and so vulnerable. Before I can open my fucking mouth to say something, to reassure her, to tell her how much I love her, the dumb shit Lucien pipes up first.

“You should be ashamed of yourself.” He speaks disapprovingly, scoffing next. “How are you going to let your injured child be toted off by a stranger while staying behind to spread your legs like some Jezebel? Your selfishness is embarrassing, Nadia. Some mother you are.”

Nadia’s breath hitches, then I see a flicker of guilt pass over her flushed features. That brief moment of shame is all it takes for me to swing back and clock Lucien in his left temple. He crumples instantly, body going slack in the chair and his head drops forward. Chin meeting his chest with such force my improved hearing catches a near inaudible thud.

I said never again—never will she think less of herself, and I meant it.

Chapter thirty-three

Babel

Meanwhile

Have you ever heard the expression ‘that will put the fear of God in you’? That has nothing on what is going through my head right now—fear? Yeah, tons of it.

The second I got Sadie to the SUV and folded her into the seat, I drug out the first aid kit that most rental agencies keep in the center console. I didn't think I would have to do field dressing on a damn teenage girl but there I was. I wound wads of gauze and coban-wrapped around her thin wrists and forearms to stem the blood—hoping it stopped long enough to get her to a fucking hospital. No earthly idea how bad the damage is, but if the blood trail and the puddle upstairs in the apartment is any indication, she’s in a pretty bad way.

My leg bounced the entire way to the hospital. The way she giggled and licked at her fingers, smearing blood all over her delicate face had the hairs on my arms standing on their ends—regardless of the long sleeved shirt I put on today. It will need to be replaced as soon as I’m back to Oregon, there’s not enough peroxide to get her life force out of the fibers. Might drop Little Miss Sunshine here off at the emergency room and find the nearest supermarket for a replacement.

She’s clinging to me right now, her crimson-soaked face is a single breath away from the left side of mine, forgoing personal space as she sits on her knees in the ER chair. Trying my fucking damndest to stay focused on the clipboard resting on my right leg while her teeth chatter next to me—scrawling her information on the intake forms. Shouldn’t be as surprised that I know as much as I do about her, but I am nonetheless. Name, date of birth, parental information, address, phone number, insurance number her adoptive father had for her, current medications—or the lack thereof, height, weight, medical history. Everything really.

This shit isn’t necessary for my job, the medical part, but when Havok pulled her off that damn cross, something told me to brush up on the details in the event I needed them to keep her ass alive. Here we are, in a local ER when I probably should have taken her to a vet by now. The amount of blood coating her limbs, then being a young girl with an older guy like me? People are going to ask the questions I’m not at liberty to share.

“Hey… stay here,” I say, looking over her smudged face and tangled blonde hair. I’m no doctor but there’s something so damn wrong with her, she may need to spend some time in a more quiet room. Then the shit her uncle did to her? She’s worse off now than she was when he first abducted her. Sadie had bite then; fought hard against Lucien, and put more fear in him than he’s likely ever experienced. Now though? The way she has gonea month or so since being medicated—on top of everything else—the ferocity she once had has now turned on her. As if the animal inside is gnawing its way through her, nails and teeth scratching against the inside of her skin until it’s thin enough to rip open.

Lifting from the chair, Sadie follows me like she’s attached by an invisible strap. I lean away from her and observe her for a second. Her head rocks side to side as if she’s listening to headphones, or eager to get on some sort of thrill park ride. Excited, in an unsettling and eerie type of way. The fact that she’s standing up and not falling the hell over from exhaustion and blood loss is startling. Luckless girl can be falling apart, breaking into a billion shards, and no one would have a damn clue.

“Sadie, I said stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“No.” She’s immediate in her response, a single syllable word trailed by whispers and series of sudden breaths.

“Yes. Sit down. That’s an order.”

Grabbing her biceps, I push her down onto the chair and give a firm glare, silently warning her to stay the fuck put. Even if I don’t mean it, I do everything to radiate the issue of consequences if she disobeys.

“Ten seconds. Count for me. One Mississippi, two Mississippi.”

She takes over, remaining where I deposited her so I can make my way to the registrar and hand back the clipboard through the glass barrier. All of Sadie’s paperwork, her entire life rendered down to five sheets of copyprinted paper. For a moment, I look back over my shoulder to see if she’s where I need her to be and breathe out slowly when my hopes are actually answered for once. Facing forward, I clear my throat and shake my head when the girl at the window starts to pepper me with more questions that I won’t answer.

“Sir, we need all available information,” Ruth, her name is Ruth—that’s what it says on her employee badge anyway.

“No, you don’t. You have a sixteen year old girl of childbearing age bleeding out in your lobby. You have what you need, now get her called back. She has lost a lot of blood already and if it doesn’t stop, she will fall out on your floor. Will be one awkward conversation to have with a lawyer when he shows up because his client has more money than this whole fucking hospital system combined.”

“We don’t take kindly to threats, sir,” Ruth rebuts.

“Good thing it’s not a threat. Now, take the paper and do your little computer click-clicky thing and get her back.”

“TEN MISSISSIPPI!” Sadie bellows from her chair. The feral girl slides around in it as if it’s her own personal merry-go-round. “Where are youuuuuuuuu?” Sadie’s voice is jovial in its warning.

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