Page 54 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

Chapter twenty-seven

Judas

C rack!

“Would you stop that!”

“Nope,” he replies.

They have been after my knees for the past several hours.

What Nadia started, they are capitalizing on and I’m at my wits end.

Find something else to abuse, for all that is holy.

There is so much real estate they’re avoiding and it’s only annoying at this point.

Gritting my teeth, the new guy is kind enough to swing the chains like a bat across my lower legs now.

So kind; I’ll kill him last for being accommodating.

Him and the pretty boy, Kace, have been at me since Kace slapped me awake late this evening.

Truth be told, I had a good little nap once I passed out.

Something I haven’t done since I started self-atoning decades ago—you get used to the pain, which makes it much easier to deal with.

Too bad it doesn’t extend down to the soul; I could have used that earlier when I was in and out of consciousness.

At first I thought it was real, the things I was seeing, then I knew there was no possible way I would end up swimming in a sea of fire.

Hallucinations have never really been a problem for me, seeing things or people lingering in the edges of my vision, shapes, scenery—nothing.

Things were so vivid and felt more real than the agony that has since settled in my body.

Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum keep asking me the same series of questions, in different formats, hoping to get answers they’re looking for.

But it’s going to take so much more than breaking my body.

My mind’s broken too, so there’s not much left they can do without just putting me six feet under the ground.

Doubt they would dig me a grave or even throw me in the ocean somewhere off the coast where I can at least feed the wildlife.

No; I bet you they would leave me in a bag somewhere and wait for the gasses to build in my body until I burst, then wash away my chunks and fluid with bleach water.

So considerate.

“Lucien, this is getting pretty old. You can answer the questions and we will drop you off at the local police station and let you get back to life if you cooperate.” Gaggle, Rabi, what is his name again?

He’s not quite as old as Kace is but they’re similar in age.

I’m guessing a few years or so, but not much more.

He has this heavy weight that lingers over him like a black cloud.

The way he checks over his shoulder throughout the night lets me know he’s not all sunshine and cupcakes.

Kace, though, there’s a slice of angry-pie I’ve been waiting to see.

He wasn’t quite responsive enough for me back in the day but this new version?

I’m really starting to like it. Those blue eyes, well…

blue eye… don’t hold the same sort of vibrancy they used to.

In fact, one’s not even the same color anymore— interesting.

Anyway, back to Dumb and Dumber.

“Are all you cops the same? Who, this. What, that. Where, how, bla bla bla. I’ll tell you what I want you to know when I’m ready to do so. Until then, keep breaking me.”

I well up the slimiest ball of coagulated blood and spit I can, then launch it at—Babel, that’s his name…

ironic. He doesn’t flinch, arms crossed over his chest with a brow lifted.

Kace, not such a good boy anymore, doesn’t move either.

He’s sitting astride an armrest of the sofa that still smells new.

They’re both wearing your typical militia garb; dark, long sleeve shirts, though I can see tattoos peeking up Kace’s neck and down his hands.

Both in boots, too, but Kace is wearing black combat pants while Babel is in camouflage.

Not the imitation kind from a sports store, the real deal.

“You two have interesting names, you know that? Babel, where the united people gathered to establish glory. Then in Luke 18:8, English standard version, it says, ‘I tell you, he will give justice to them speedily. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’ Ominous. Are you a man who doles justice, Babel, or someone who loses everything they touch?”

His poker face is impressive, but I move on to Kace instead.

“Havok, biblically we’re talking about devastation, a stain, a disgrace who destroys. Acts 8:3 says, ‘as for Saul he made havoc of the church.’ You’re definitely a disgraceful stain—fitting.”

“Don’t quit your day job, funny guy,” Babel quips.

Feigning mockery, I pout. “I think I’m quite funny, thank you.”

“I’m getting tired of this,” Kace spills.

“Tired of what?”

Both men turn and look at the door, where Nadia stands with a half-awake Sadie who looks like she’s been to hell and back.

Hah, too soon?

She’s barely hanging on from the looks of it.

She’s in more clothes now, clean, hair doesn’t look like a rat’s nest. Mama must be taking good care of her—I would have done the same if the ungrateful pain in the ass just let me do what needed to be done.

Either way, they have both been sleeping the daylight away, trying to catch up on beauty sleep, I suppose. Or letting their souls rest—hahaha.

“His bullshit, babygirl. That’s all.”

“Welcome to the club,” Nadia grunts at Kace.

Oh no, things are already rocky between the two of them? Good.

“Need help?” Babel asks, getting up to offer Nadia a hand with Sadie well before Kace tries to.

Not setting a good precedent, pretty boy.

They’re fun to watch together. The uncomfortable tension lingering between all four of them—never mind me watching.

I’m just the cherry on top, wondering how long it’s going to take them to figure out that sweet girl they’re treating like glass is going to wreck all of them.

Nadia saw the tail end of a psychotic episode yesterday; she’s deep in the trough right now.

It will come back with a vengeance. Every time Kate is out and about, she gets more volatile.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts biting and ripping the flesh off next.

“No thanks, I got her,” Nadia answers.

“Touching family reunion. We have the dead, the depraved, and the depressed.”

“You’re not part of the family, don’t include yourself in that list,” Kace adds.

“Oh, I’m not. That’s you three. You’ll see,” I inform him, my grin like that of the Cheshire cat.

“The fuck does that mean?” Kace snaps.

“She’s on, well, was on Risperdal. It helps with psychosis and schizophrenia,” Nadia answers for me.

“You mean she’s like him?” he asks, twisted on the armrest, inspecting Sadie as Babel sits down with her on the sofa.

She’s starting to come around and I’m excited to see this outcome.

It’s like I’m sitting outside of an old TV screen, the glass buzzing with the energy and sound of static when it’s actually the strain between them.

The best episodes of life and I get to witness it all firsthand—this is my favorite show after all.

“Yes, Kace, that’s exactly what I mean. I don’t know the extent of it, since I only managed to see the bottles before I had to leave her room but they’re gone. The pills. I’m sure dumb-shit over there didn’t grab any when he kidnapped her.”

Oh, she’s not happy with him at all.

He shakes his head and gives her his back then pushes his big-as-hell body up from the couch, moving over to the table of torture devices he has been gradually working through.

“Come here.”

“No. I don’t want to be anywhere near him.”

“I didn’t fucking ask, Nadia, I told you to come here.”

I know that stings, don’t it, sis.

“You talk to me like that again, and I’ll kill you in your sleep.” She volleys back.

“No you won’t. Now get over here.” Kace waves her over to the table.

It takes her a moment but she stubbornly joins him at his side, looking over the instruments he’s been poking, scraping, punching and jabbing into my body.

I’ve always wanted to see how far she would go—she stabbed me out of necessity, but can she do it when the stakes aren’t as high?

“Pick one.”

“I’m not doing this with you, right now. I—“ Nadia falters.

“Can I?”

All of our heads turn to the girl now fully awake and leaning back into Babel—is she using him as a fucking recliner?

Oh, Lord, please tell me we have another sadist. That would make me so damn happy.

He looks perturbed though, as if her proximity is unsettling.

One arm is braced along the back of the sofa while the other lingers on the armrest, body tense.

She won’t bite, Babel. Well, she might.

“Can you what?” Nadia asks.

“I want to try. You’re torturing him, right?”

Nadia looks at Kace and the fucker shrugs. What the hell? Fuck, this isn’t good. Not when I know what’s hiding in the corners of that chaotic mind.

“Just pick one, Nadia,” I instruct.

They all pivot to me now, Nadia’s head is tilted to the side. Kace is smirking then looks at Nadia as if he’s waiting for her permission to let their child approach me. I sure hope she doesn’t. Come on, be a good mom and shelter your baby psycho.

“Come on, sugar, you can pick one,” Kace answers.

No—nope. Lord above, if you’re with me today, please bestow your grace upon me and rid me of this evil. Take me unto salvation.

Babel helps her up from his lap where she pads over to us, slightly unsure of herself when she steps between her parents.

I note how much of a perfect blend she is of the two of them.

Nadia is standing to her left, Kace to her right, and it’s like some scientists handpicked each of Sadie’s attributes so she would resemble both of them—unmistakably.

Nadia lifts a hand and moves a lock of platinum hair out of her face, pinning it behind an ear before she speaks again.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready to do,” she urges.

Sadie’s eyes are glued to me, a smirk pulling at her mouth and I cringe inwardly.

“I’m okay, Mom. I got this.”