Page 73 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

Struggling to move them takes more energy than I have.

Half-slumping in the chair the freak restrained me to, and trying to tilt my head back some, my eyes finally close and I drag in new, agonizing breaths.

Trying to time them in a way so I can arch into my broken ribs and push the splintered bone away from my lung—hoping for less damage.

I’d rather they tear through my skin than puncture something that’s trying so hard to keep me alive.

Finding a semi-comfortable spot, the chittering of rats echoes down the long hallway of the pit. The only other sound now, outside of the dripping and my periodic gasps. Slow, agonizing death is what he planned for me, I suppose. What else could this be?

Finally still, my thoughts drift off to Nadia. A wistful smile saddened by remorse.

Goddamnit, the woman is going to have a fucking hissy fit when I don’t show up to see her. Lectured her on regret and telling people she cares about that she loves them, then ended up in a dark hole in the base of the fucking prison.

I hate that I saw this coming enough to make some sort of preparations for her.

There are people out there who will bring her in, continue to show her that not everyone is out to get her.

Nor want to break her and make her feel like she’s undeserving of basic emotional necessities.

Damn me for being the asshole who won’t be there to see her grow into the woman I know she can be.

That’s what hurts the most, if I’m honest.

With my eyes closed, it’s getting harder to combat sleep.

Rats now circle the legs of the chair. Sharp front teeth nibbling at the legs of my jumper—still chittering.

The only comfort as I waste away is Nadia’s smile.

It’s the one thing that keeps me hanging on long enough to take the next breath.

Lacking the vitality to fight for my life, I prevent myself from moving so much to conserve energy, hopefully long enough to be found.

Perhaps that’s the tiny optimism left me, someone’s going to come down here.

They’re going to find me before it’s all said and done and I will be perfectly fine.

Even the injuries will heal on their own with little infection.

Everything will be okay, I’m going to be okay, tomorrow I’ll wake up in my cell and the rat race will start all over.

Wishful thinking, and all.

A scream pierces the air, rattling the chains Lucien left around me. They’re still dangling over the tops of my forearms, pooling on the floor to both sides of me. The weight of them is enough to keep me from struggling—mind over matter.

The delirium came faster than I thought it would have.

I’ve read about it a few times in my borrowed library books.

There’s a limited selection, so inmates end up reading random shit when all of the other good titles are checked out, or when they’re not nose-deep in their textbooks.

In high stress and depressive moments, the mind plays tricks on you.

The scream, a trick. There wouldn’t be anyone down here to scream other than Lucien, let alone a woman.

‘Least that’s the impression I got from the pitch of it.

Screams like that, the kind that sink into your body and chill your bones, aren’t typically made by men.

Male tones aren’t high pitched enough for that.

So, I’m hallucinating. Hopefully, I pass out before any of the other shit starts happening to my mind.

When another comes, I jump like I’ve been assaulted at some shitty haunted house. The rats take off running when a third one stabs the draft again.

Jesus, can a guy die in peace?

A few lower voices come next, Nadia’s floating atop of theirs, broken by muted sobs. Shifting as much as the chair and restraints will allow me, I turn my head enough to locate where the murmuring is coming from. Another shrill screech perforated with cries sends my heart into overdrive.

Nadia .

“B… baby.” My lips part painfully around the term.

A second wind races toward me as I realize it’s her screaming.

Twisting all I can to look around, I note the deep red of emergency lights over my shoulder and at the end of the long corridor.

It’s far enough away it didn’t rouse me awake sooner.

I can only imagine what is happening to her; it fills me with dread and threatens to break me.

If there was a riot, if the inmates got the upper hand, then she’s having the worst thing happen to her.

Stilling and urging my heart to stop its racing, slow the roaring of blood in my ears to where I can listen again, silence fills the harrowing space. Prying my lips apart again, I do the only thing I think I can do— pray.

“Religion… isn’t my… thing, you know. But, if you’re really up there, watching what’s happening to Nadia, please save her.”

Another outcry, this time followed by the deep whoops of what I can only assume are other inmates. My fears quickly confirmed themselves.

“Fuck!! Nadia, baby!”

The strength that comes with a second wind finally sinks in.

Allowing me to thrash in the chair which felt a million pounds just moments ago.

Letting me teeter side to side, the fuck am I going to do when the chair crashes against the floor?

I don’t know. I can’t reach anything to unlock this shit, but that doesn’t matter as rage floods my veins along with adrenaline. My girl.

“Please!”

Scream.

“Goddamnit, Nadia, I’m coming. FUCK! Please, if there’s someone… something… up there. Don’t…”

Physical pain is nothing compared to hearing her shriek through abuse.

It’s incapacitating but I can’t stop the agony cutting and breaking my voice as I try to comfort her from afar.

Tears sting my eye, feeling so fucking hopeless.

I can’t do shit but sit here and listen to what I can only imagine is an assault.

Shattering under the weight of not being able to get to her, to protect her.

She’s wherever having her world changed in such a violent way, and I can’t even be there to put her back together.

“B… baby.” I’m breathing out painfully as tears race down my surely-wrecked face.

“I’m here, you can’t see me… hear me… but I’m here.

Promise I’ll always be with you. They can change you all they want, there’s no fucking way you’ll ever be different in my eyes.

Don’t give in, show them how strong you are; show this whole fucking world that you’re a force they will never amount to. ”

One goodbye message was enough, a second one is earth-shattering. Still here, listening intently for anything else, I will everything I am to her. The invisible red string tying us together, in this life and the next.

My heart can’t take it when gunshots ring out through the pit, sending me spiraling.

I’m falling apart, a mix of blood and tears streaking the left side of my face—the scent of my own blood mingling with the scent of the pit.

The other side, however, is soaked. My jumper is heavy on my chest, cool almost, which tells me it’s drenched too.

I gave up at the loud bangs; my head dropped forward as if I was the one shot.

Thinking a bullet hit my chest, but no— I’m still here, and there’s no gap other than the one Nadia is leaving inside of me.

I can’t remember the last time I cried. Maybe back when I was a kid and my dad accidentally ran over a wild animal that darted across the road at the last second. He introduced me to death that day; explained that sometimes lives come to an end early but that’s all part of life and the big plan.

In the back of my head, little me is watching Dad put the box in the ground and cover it gently with dirt. Speaking resolutely like only a CEO can do.

“I know it doesn’t make sense, Kace. Why some things, people, are not given the chance to live longer.

Just try to remember that they served a purpose.

The most important task they fulfilled was to make you a better person.

By teaching you things like compassion, restraint, or even love.

When they go, what you do afterward is how you will honor them.

This is one of many painful lessons, my boy.

Unfortunately, life is full of them. Coming out on the other side of the pain is only half the battle. ”

This pain, though? Impossible. I’m too weak to move on from this agony.

Just as I didn’t have the strength to get to Nadia and stop people from traumatizing her.

Thinking about it feels like a noose around my neck but part of me hopes the gunshots were for her.

Civility doesn’t exist in prison but Jesus Christ, ending her life would have been a mercy.

In the event I don’t make it out of this, at least if they killed her, we could soar the stars together.

Staying away from Nadia wouldn’t have stopped whatever happened up there. Had I heeded Lucien’s warning, perhaps love wouldn’t have been the only thing Nadia taught me. She suffered alone; my feeble confessions and encouragement did nothing, and it’s all my damn fault.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, they say. Dad was so fucking right.