Page 68 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

The nurse, who I learn is named Della, ushers us back to one of the trauma rooms that’s already set up for suturing Sadie's angry skin back together. Stepping inside, I walk her over to the gurney—my senses assaulted by the uneasy atmosphere of a medical facility. It’s cold as expected; the scent of antiseptic and sterile cleaning supplies making my stomach roll like an old butter churn.

I hate this shit. Hospitals are not my thing, a trait I share with millions of other people.

Traumatized by the shit we’ve seen and experienced in places such as hospitals—watched loved ones stop breathing, families be torn apart by illness, or the violent way people are brought back to life.

“Set her down on the bed, I’m going to get an IV started on her and draw some blood at the same time,” Della informs me.

“She’s had enough blood come out of her body, is that necessary?”

“If she needs a transfusion, yes. We need to make sure we get the correct blood for her. In the event her levels are too low, the doctor may go ahead and order a few pints of emergency bags while waiting for the results on her antibody screening.”

“Whatever, just get it done and over with,” I grunt when laying Sadie down. She’s shivering more but her eyes are closed now. Skin a bit more pale than it usually is, missing the rosy color girls her age should have.

Della calls in a few other people in different colored scrubs and they end up swarming Sadie like bees.

Lifting, pulling, placing lines that pump clear liquid into her severed veins.

When Della ushers the men out, me included, I can’t help but look over my shoulder at her.

What the fuck do I do if she doesn’t wake up?

I can’t go back to Mav and tell him this mission was a failure; sure as hell can’t tell Havok and Nadia their kid didn’t make it.

They’ve suffered enough—this would break and end what’s left of both of ‘em.

Standing outside of her door, arms crossed over the bulk of my chest, my hands squeeze my biceps while the left foot goes back to bouncing like it was doing in the SUV.

A lively hustle and bustle in the emergency room persists around me; this is the everyday life of the employees here.

It’s not out of the ordinary for them to see people of all walks of life come in and never leave.

It’s strange, their lives are normal while Sadie’s is falling apart.

Which puts a few things into perspective for me.

Still, I remain focused, trying to hear what’s going on inside the ER-room.

Praying that the crazed side of her doesn’t rear its ugly head and go off the deep end—attack people.

We may never get her back then. Even if she physically survives someone else will have her locked away and it will kill all that’s left of the girl I know Sadie wants to be.

“Mr. Wilson?” Della's growing familiar voice calls for me.

Giving a shake of my head, I turn and glare at her.

“Sullivan.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’m not a Wilson, she’s not my daughter.”

“Oh, apologies. The paperwork said Patton and Pierce as the last names, I assumed…”

“You assumed wrong.”

Not waiting around for the gears to finally turn in her head, I push past the woman and invade the trauma room with my presence again. Oddly, I typically like to hang out in the perimeter and refuse to make too much of a fuss over anything. Not today. Not this time. Not this girl.

“Sadie?” I call out, anticipating the tame sound of her voice.

Yet when the silence settles in, I slow my approach.

Brows sprinkled with silver crease at the quiet, the only sign of the turmoil progressing through me.

Something is keeping me from closing the distance, whether that’s unease or not wanting to spook her.

Hell, maybe it’s her soul warding mine away—anything is possible at this point.

Seeing the family she was born into, a strong spiritual influence could exist inside of her. Like it does with her uncle.

Finally, my shoulders relax when I stop toning out everything around me except for her immediate body. The sounds of heart monitors keeping everyone alert to her existence. Should have known she wouldn’t give up. Not when there’s so much life, so much family to finally have.

“She’s definitely low on blood. The lab is running her blood type but we have O-neg on the way from the blood bank.

It should be here within five to ten minutes.

As soon as her levels increase, we will take her back to surgery to fix her arms. Doc hoped that she didn’t get too deep into her but she did.

Our superficial suturing kits out here aren’t adequate enough to ensure she’s put back together,” Della explains.

“How long will all of that take?”

“Few hours on the transfusion, a few hours on the surgery. She will have to stay for observation for a couple of days. Her parents can make decisions after that.”

Great.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

It’s going to be a long ass few days.

Beast

“STOP!!! Stop it!” I screech.

Kate cackles and it rings so loudly in my ears, I can’t hear anything other than her ongoing shrieking.

The deranged spirit took over God knows how long ago and it’s terrifying. Not only does she not do something like that unless I’m in a dangerous situation or feels threatened, but this go-around she’s given me vague glimpses of my surroundings.

I saw my mom, then the inside of a truck, a sterile room, now I’m here.

Where is here? I’m not sure. All I am able to focus on is the mushy sensation of Kate’s hands on me.

She’s pulling, pushing, and turning me. Keeping my mind confused as every caress feels like her flesh is sliding over my bones.

Nothing to hold her skin in place, just slipping with every grab.

“LET GO OF ME!” My voice grows more and more hoarse every time I wail.

Wanting, begging, for her to leave me but she won’t.

Pain enters me from all around, forcing me to my knees before I’m able to look at where the majority of it is focused along my forearms. Tears pour like volcanic runoff over the apples of my cheeks, dripping onto the ground beneath me.

Fizzling as if the life under it is too weak to survive the scalding touch.

The skin down my arms splits open right before my eyes.

An invisible shard of glass or a knife starts up near the ditch and trails down in long lines of dark red.

The movement repeats a few more times, until the flesh is utterly shredded by the time it stops.

I’ve never cut before, because I always found outlets for my pain.

Sports, running, putting my body through the wringer.

Anything as long as it was unseen, just like my hysteria.

Kate rushes up from my peripherals and grabs my arms, dragging me up off the floor where I can only stumble.

Pulling me with her as I fight and resist—trying to tug my blood-soaked arms and hands away from her blackened ones.

Whatever she went through when she was alive, I can only imagine what it was like.

Not something I want to experience if it’s going to leave me in a similar position she’s in—living in my fissured mind.

“Kate!! Stop, you’re hurting me!”

Pleading as loud as I can scream, they fall on her deaf ears.

The place we’re at, it’s bright and a blur I cannot place.

Feels like I’ve been here before, or somewhere similar to it.

The luminance is just as intense as it was when the trunk lifted, and what I reduced to being a figment of my imagination.

An angel, reaching inside the hollow space and saw me there—trapped.

Whatever it was, it comforted me, even if briefly.

It must have seen how dark my heart was, then chose to shut me away and allow the events that followed to happen.

Punishing me for whatever I have done in another life.

Just like before, the brightness dims and I’m left in a space that feels much too big for me.

Empty and dark, the only light coming from a small beeping plastic box that grinds occasionally.

My tears keep my vision blurry; I’m just glad it’s not as blazing anymore.

Living in the darkness, in the tight corners of my mind, is like hiding in the back of the closet again.

Keeping myself safe from those who wield anger and accusations as easily as they throw around fake affection.

It’s so quiet in here, other than the methodical grinding of the small machine.

Far quieter compared to the gale-force bellowing that comes from Kate.

Instead of her miserable squalling, she’s sniveling in the far corner.

Unable to see her, I can hear her, though.

When you grow up in obscurity, your hearing improves along with your scent.

Hesitantly, my hands reach out and press into a texture that feels an awful lot like a threadbare blanket.

It’s warm, much warmer than my hands are at the moment with my life force draining out of them.

I shift around a bit, pushing the covering off of me and allowing my feet to dangle over the edge.

Tips of my toes barely skimming the chilly floor beneath them—still unsure of where or what plane I am existing.

“Oh shit,” I snap.

Remembering the blood, I jerk my hands back, not wanting to transfer anything over to the bedding.

Not knowing where I’m at, nor what she has done, I don’t want anything to lead back to me.

It’s heart-wrenching, needing to cover your tracks because you don’t know what your body’s doing when you’re asleep.

For all I know, she could have killed someone and it’s their blood on my hands.

“Kate.” I whisper-yell. Urging her to come back to me.

I’ve not been this far away from her since she crawled into me like a snake, sliding down my nose and mouth and seeking refuge from the raw sense of existing.

That day was absolutely terrifying as a small girl—I hid for weeks outside of going to school.

Something is wrong. Things are different, rapidly changing, and I don’t like it.

I can’t withstand this sort of fluctuation.

Immense change, when you’re used to sharing one body and mind, is intimidating.

What is she doing? What has happened to me?

Is something forcing her out, calling to her as if she were rushing toward sound when she’s sensitive to loud blasts and tolls? Is… is this God pulling her out of me?

A single step forward has me halting, the floor…

it's so cold it’s beginning to hurt my tender feet.

That’s when I notice that they’re bare, absent the socks I thought I was wearing when we went down to the coffee shop earlier.

Th—then we went back to the apartment and crawled into the big-as-hell bed for a movie.

Mom started to comb her fingers through my hair and I fell asleep.

Animalistic snuffling snags my attention back to the corner where I’m sure Kate is mulling around.

Wincing at the cold temperature of the flooring, I make my way over to my unwelcome passenger.

That sniveling sound has got to be Kate.

My left arm is heavier than the right; a soft pull on it prompts me to tug back and break free of whatever just touched me.

Another sharp pain rips at the top of my hand but I ignore it.

I’ve got to get to Kate, to bring her back inside before anyone sees the fractures.

Making my way to her, she’s hovering. Huffing and snorting at whatever has her attention.

“Kate…” I whisper again, admonishing her for lollygagging around.

I reach for her; the aura radiating around her is icy and I jerk back at first, afraid the chill is going to burn like fire.

Brows pinch together in confusion, even as my chest starts to quicken with too shallow of breaths.

This… now this is familiar. It happened in the past when I was on the verge of a panic attack and Kate swooped in again.

I d… don’t feel unsafe, not separated from her. But with her lingering over whatever it is parked in the darkened crevice, my true subconscious is questioning what is real and what may actually harm me.

Extending my hand for her again, she snaps her head up.

By god, she’s terrifying! Her eyes are missing their lids and dark in color; the shadows of the room make them appear darker—black even.

Her skin hangs loosely over her features, hair is wiry and haggard, lips cut away to reveal her teeth as she snarls and gnashes them at me.

They’re rotten, breaking apart at the ends, gums receding until the roots have been exposed.

Then there’s the uncanny black ink dripping from her mouth: frothing in the corners of her lips, dripping over her shriveled chin—I’m taken back.

I’ve never seen her before and now she’s glaring at me.

Limbs moving with rushed jolts and lurching.

My left foot shifts, allowing me to take a step back from the thing that has been living inside of me for years.

The entity who has not only kept me safe but has damaged me physically.

This being that’s haunted me just as much as painful memories that fester in my head.

As I go to walk away faster, something captures my balance and I start to stumble.

Flinging my arm out, I grab onto whatever is there and before I realize it, it’s Kate’s hand in mine.

With a sudden jerk, breaking the hold, she launches at me and I scream until there’s nothing left in my lungs and her hooting drowns me out.