Page 57 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

What’s everything? Well, we all know corruption runs deep.

Politicians, law enforcement, churches, universities, and corporations—they’re crooked as fuck.

Seeing names and networks as they forked into every industry known to keep our country afloat was rage inducing.

I lived blindly in my bubble until Nadia came along, and when Lucien happened, it opened my eyes wider. I see it all now.

Choosing Havok as an alias was intentional, just not in the way Bible-thumper here assumes. Destruction, disorder, and confusion isn’t too far off the mark but his dumb ass isn’t quite there yet.

“Thought you had something there, didn’t you?” It’s not a question. I’ve asked plenty of those and he’s not given in. We’re going to play on his field now. Pain exacerbates his manipulation—fighting back now. However, the war is psychological versus physical.

Lucien mean-mugs me—his everlasting default setting.

Looks like the bleeding has slowed too, so we’re going to talk and keep the torture to a minimum since the sun is out.

Don’t want to alert the neighbors to our shenanigans.

If the police show up and take all of us in, Lucien will disappear and I’ll have to start all over.

My girls are not safe in this world as long as he is walking free.

“You were only half right on the whole ‘Havok’ biblical shit, you know that? Really coming up short here, Lucien. I expected more from you since you’re the one with all of the influence, and seem to know everything.”

He smirks, at which part I have no damn clue but it’s irrelevant.

“First off, James 1:14-15. ‘But each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.’”

The shit’s interest is piqued now—let’s see if I can set the hook.

“Killing me, while I hadn’t realized it at first, was the silver lining I had been searching for for a very long time. You brought death to a boy so the man could be delivered.”

“You’re welcome.” He responds with a quickness, tilting his head as if he’s proud of himself. A look of accomplishment smears across his smug face, like the blood he poured all over my daughter. Masking all of my annoyance, I plaster on a smile and provide him the praise he desperately craves.

“Many thanks.”

“Don’t mention it again. The Lord only requires submission and acceptance to receive His forgiveness, Kace. You still have time to repent all of these unclean things you’ve committed through your short little lives. Consider your survival a second chance.”

“Oh, I do and I’ll be making the most out of it moving forward. Which brings me to my next point.” Lucien nods and I continue, “2 Thessalonians 2:7”

Babel smirks just out of my focused field of vision, but I’ve gathered his attention too—especially now that our brother in Christ has mutated again. Watching him slide through different mindsets so easily is truly fascinating. Still, I elaborate.

“‘For the mystery of lawlessness is already at work. Only he who now restrains it will do so until he is out of the way.’ Now, what could that mean?”

“Your blasphemy knows no bounds and will be punished!” Lucien snaps at me and I laugh.

“And on the third day he rose again.”

“Silence!”

A full bodied laugh shakes my ribs and shoulders; watching him jerk and try to toss himself ever which way has me appreciating the circumstances.

Even Babel is shaking his head with a grin.

Slapping both hands down on my knees, I stand once more.

Shaking my head when I pick up the water bottle again.

I’m caught off guard when Lucien stills and his voice is low—angry, menacing.

Hoping to get a rise out of me and take control of the situation; something he won’t do again.

“You may have me where you want me, think you’re getting ahead because you’ve managed to find a relationship with our Creator.

But I promise you, I’m not done ruining the way Nadia looks at you.

All of this vengeance and it could mean nothing when she chooses to walk away from you and ends up in the arms of someone else. ”

Lucien's head snaps to the side when my reflexes retaliate and I crash my hand into his running mouth. So much for not getting a rise out of me. A snarl of my own glares down at him, his words fill my vision with red so potent I can sense it swallowing me from the inside out. Rearing back to deliver another—hell, however many it takes to permanently silence him—I’m stopped.

Swivelling around, every muscle in my body is coiled tight, tense, vibrating with all of the energy I need to split the bastard into pieces. I see Babel there, his hand snug on my bicep. The man waits quietly, letting me work through the anger pumping through my veins.

“Why don’t you go get some air, hmm? Spend some time with your family and clear your head,” he suggests. “I’ll deal with him while you’re gone.”

“I don’t…” My voice comes to a stop when he raises his other hand to silence me.

“Yes you do. Go, wasn’t a suggestion.”

“At no point were you given permission to touch me, nor orders.”

“I don’t take orders from you anyway. Get lost. He’s not going to give you anything today and even if he did, it’s probably going to be a lie or something else that gets under your skin.”

“I need to do this.” Replying to him, my arm grows heavy, relaxing against my wishes.

“They need you more.”

Fuck him. Being logical and shit.

Extracting my arm from his old Marine clasp, I turn back to Lucien who’s a little dazed. Not surprising—he’s been fading in and out a lot since Sadie got ahold of him. Lack of food and water, as well as blood loss, will do that to even the strongest people.

Begrudgingly, I step away from the piece of shit that is Lucien.

In the kitchen, I turn the water on high and wait for it to warm up, observing Babel as he shoves his sleeves up to his elbows.

Putting my hands under the water, I wet them for a moment and attain the soap that’s sitting by the faucet.

Pumping some into my palm, I begin scrubbing from under my nails all the way up to my elbows.

Ensuring there’s no part of his foul frame remaining on my skin.

They’re talking low right now, Babel using a ‘hug a thug’ approach to speaking and dealing with Lucien.

In the world outside of jail, I believe the younger generations call it ‘gentle parenting.’ There’s no gentle-shit with him—you have to be effective in psychological torture to get anything of substance from him.

I’m aware of that, Babel may not be, but he could.

He did watch Sadie with Lucien the other night and witnessed it first hand.

I’m still figuring him out. When I reached out to him, I expected muscle and nothing else—total meathead, especially with his background.

But he’s been more supportive than I anticipated.

When he about lost his shit on Lucien, at the gas station where he was publicly humiliating Sadie, the tables flipped.

At no point during our brief call was I calm.

Watching your child go through the shit Sadie was dealing with breaks something inside of you, and I am sure there will come a point when Nadia starts asking why in the fuck I didn’t step in sooner.

Her. That’s why. I needed Nadia within the same vicinity to make sure I got my hands on both of them.

That was the most important thing. Healing comes later.

I had to have her; not just for me but for Sadie, too.

I barely know the first thing about raising a girl, especially being emotionally and mentally supportive to one built like my daughter.

This whole thing required all of us and still does, Babel included.

I expect the heat I will catch for leaving Nadia behind—she will make me pay for that.

But ending the fight before she was in my grasp again?

I couldn’t tail her longer and approached after she finished grieving for God, what, the third or fourth time?

Knock on her door one day, act like nothing happened, and try to rekindle feelings she fought so hard to move past?

No. So, we waited and mobilized as soon as she got out of her cute little car.

Rinsing my arms and hands off, I wrench the faucet off with a slight squeak and begin drying them on a nearby hand towel.

Needing to make sure I’m clean enough to be seen in public, I head to the bedroom and change quickly.

Jeans, shirt, boots, phone, and the gun I have been hiding from Nadia shoved in the back of my waistband.

My hair is always fucked, therefore there is no need to do anything with it—leave it unruly, she use to like it like that.

Gave her something to grab on to when we were alone together.

“Need anything while I’m out with the girls?

” I throw at Babel on my way to the front door.

He shakes his head, reaching for the brass knuckles on the table, feeding his fingers through them.

Slow and methodical. Guy has a huge chip on his shoulder, we definitely need to switch out.

He needs to cause pain, and I need to heal mine.