Page 77 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

No response is a good response—I’ll take it.

Hot breaths wake me up, sniffling at my neck and up into my ear.

The quickness of them is irritating and sending every bit of my nervous system into overdrive.

The weight that previously existed on my lap disappears when a gasp jerks me out of the light sleep I didn’t realize I was getting.

Heaving forward, my spine lifts away from the backrest of the chair, next I’m on my feet— old war instincts surfacing.

Reaching for a gun at my hip that no longer sits there, I freeze at the sound of gnarling.

Brows pinch together, my eyes try to quickly acclimate to the dark room by blinking rapidly.

Unsuccessfully locating an adequate light source to lock onto, an anchor to bring me out of the nightmare I’m surely having.

Following the muted gurgling, the buzz of it forces thoughts of soldiers bleeding profusely through my head that I must shake out.

I can’t do this, not right now; not with Sadie in the room, lying over there trying to survive her self-inflicted wounds. This isn’t war.

Fuck, Sadie!

With a heavy step, I move to her but the growling increases, halting my advancement.

Twisting, it sounds like it’s below me but close.

Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I tap the screen.

A gentle yellow light illuminates up my chest and face, which only provides a brief relief.

Swinging the dull light around, my heart stops.

Sadie is standing just inches away from me.

Her pupils are blown out wide enough to compete with sinkholes.

Dark, consuming and inescapable. Her head’s tilted, the gown hanging off her young and frail body.

In her hands are foot after foot of her wound-up IV line.

Blood drips from the top of her left hand where the catheter used to be, so it could pump much needed fluids and medication into her bloodstream.

Off in the distance, the machine now beeps in alert while saline drips from the red-stained plastic.

“S—Sunshine.”

Inching to the side, not taking the light off of her, she jumps at me and I still.

My free hand lifts in surrender and out as a temporary barrier between us.

She’s not in there and that scares the fuck out of me.

Never in my life have I seen something like this.

I mean, I knew she was a bit off, but damn.

Keeping my back to the wall, we start to turn as I inch again, needing to get to the IV pump to get it to stop its screeching.

Anything to keep innocent bystanders from coming in here and seeing Sadie this way.

No one deserves to have the fear of God put into them like this.

If I don’t get to it soon, someone’s going to walk into a full-fledged nightmare.

“Sa—Sadie. I’ve got to turn the pump off. Nod if you understand.” Stuttering at first, my tongue passes over my bottom lip to quell the turbulence inside. Doesn’t matter if she can’t grasp what’s happening, the IV is adding too much tension to a fuck-ton already.

Taking the chance, I shuffle back, arms still lifted out where the palm of my hand is facing her.

Prepared to take the brunt of any force she may sling my way.

Steadily she follows each of my movements, as I migrate over to the pump.

Stealing a brief look back, I find the ‘silence’ button again, the damn thing chirping again before I’m able to turn it off.

Time stands still; waiting for her to come at me feels too much like the hesitation a shark takes before it sinks all one-hundred-plus teeth into your flesh.

Then drags you far enough under the water to where you drown while screaming and painting the top of the ocean red.

Nothing, absolutely nothing, prepares you for what the hell happens in a situation like this.

Years in the military fly out of the window when you’re faced with the need to ensure someone else’s safety while also keeping yourself alive.

When she launches at me, I have to do both of those with no fucking time to think.

“Sadie!” Her name bellows from my mouth as she grabs hold of me, the blood from her hand soaking into the dry threads of my shirt in an instant.

The hand holding all of the IV tubing moves quickly as it rears back and collides with my face, momentarily stunning me.

Pain pierces my mouth and cheek, a hint of copper irritating my tastebuds.

The few second delay is all she needs when both of her hands shove me back, causing me to collide with a windowsill that once likely hosted an array of flowers and ‘get well soon’ cards for previous occupants.

Now, though, I’m scrambling to get off of it even as Sadie presses her weight against me.

Hands and arms move quickly, attempting to block her smaller limbs from getting too close.

Hoping to God I’m not injuring her freshly sutured forearms in the process.

“Dammit, Sadie, stop this shit!”

One more hearty shove is all it takes to make me see stars, my head having crashed back against a thick glass window stout enough to withstand the belligerent winds in this part of the country.

Dazed, my ears ringing, her movements pass in front of my eyes in slow motion.

A wave of nausea comes soon after, forcing me to double over and heave—taking my eyes off of Sadie far too long.

With the finesse of a dock worker, Sadie winds the plastic tubing around my neck as if she’s mooring me to a pier in the midst of a hurricane.

Amidst the urge to vomit and the newfound panic of a rubber noose, I scramble for the line and pull at it.

The dizziness lingers when my legs shove me up off the windowsill and I nearly barrel over Sadie to get distance.

She clammers along with me—hands holding onto the tubing’s end in iron clad grips.

She yanks, I choke and thrash. Wrenching me left and right, up to the edge that begins to drag my vision away from any sort of light.

A gaspless breath aches to be expelled and replaced with new oxygen.

My vision blurs at the edges, hands still struggling to get a good grip on the too-sleek line as it compresses from the way Sadie keeps pulling at it.

The fight has winded me; pair that with the asphyxiation and I’m ready to throw in the towel. Were I spending this time teaching her how to refine her movements, things would be different, but she’s moments away from killing me.

One… last… push is all I need; one moment of opportunity and I’ll have her.

Making the mistake, she steps to the side and I feel her rather than see her.

Throwing my arm out, I snatch her hospital gown and haul her to me.

It’s not gentle nor calculated, a full-forced pull that takes her off her bare feet before she crashes to the floor.

I’m over her instantly, pinning her to the frigid tile as she thrashes and fights me to the point her saliva has foamed at the corners of her mouth.

Like she’s just rabid and needs to be put down.

She also kicks like a fucking mule, jolting her hips up, twisting and gnashing at me as if she’s some untamed animal.

Even with her hands pinned to the cold, cream-colored floor, speckled with her blood, her fingers claw inward, attempting to dig into my flesh.

I stare down at her, sucking in ragged breaths as hard as I can while keeping her restrained.

Watching the wild creature struggle for control, I’ll be damned if it doesn’t break my heart to see her this way.

Young and all twisted up on the inside, where no one can really reach in and break the knot she’s wound up in.

Damaged in a way that may not ever be repairable.

“I got you,” I murmur, even if her feral sounds drown out my whisper. “Please don’t hate me.”

Leaning up, I look over her disheveled bed, and shout.

“HELP!!!!!!”