Page 91 of Judas (The Lito Duet #2)

“I’ll break his damn neck, Nadia! Don’t get any closer.

” Lucien growls out, the nerve grating tone he’d usually use is absent but that’s not what stops me.

It’s how Kace’s blue eye starts to glaze over but he’s fixated on me, like he’s trying to soak me in just in case he doesn’t get the chance to look at me again.

So much emotion is running through me that I can’t come to terms with what’s transpiring.

Tears fill my eyes but the part of me that’s logical and knows what’s best to do, the part prepared and geared up for deescalation and maintaining order, splinters and sheds away.

The girl I’ve been clutching onto so desperately finally leaves to find peace.

To rest with the man she found so much peace and home in.

The monster that’s left doesn’t give a fuck if anyone walks out of this alive.

Instead of running to Kace’s aid, I turn around and walk away.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going!?” Lucien screams.

He must have tossed Kace to the side because he is on me next, grabbing me and throwing me up against the closest wall.

His right hand grabs my lower jaw, left taking its place on my throat with a violent squeeze.

If humans could go rabid, this would be what it looks like.

Lucien’s pupils are so big they’ve gobbled up the grey-color we share, a very obvious tick in his jaw throbs before he speaks, which takes me back a little.

With a jolt, wanting out of his hold, he pulls me back and slams me harder against the wall.

“Asked you a question, Nadia. Where do you think you’re going?”

I give him a tilt of my chin in contempt.

“Lucien—” he then cuts me off.

“Mmm, think again.”

Think again? Is there a dopplega—

“Samael…”

“There you go, if I’m forced to conduct this body for God knows how long, the least people could do is call me by the correct name.”

“Wher—“ he cuts me off again. What happens next wasn’t what I expected out of Lucien, let alone something that’s supposed to be a primordial being.

Releasing my neck and face, his body twists slightly before he sends his elbow crashing into my face.

Samael’s momentum knocks me to the floor, a shock shooting up my arms and legs when I catch myself on my hands and knees.

One eye is blurry from the impact of his elbow, the optic nerves throbbing with the beat of my heart.

Filling that eye somewhat with a pulsing light.

His shin and foot connect with my stomach next.

Kicking me in the ribs, the soft tissues of my belly, my hips.

Anywhere he could exact damage to me, taking my breath away again.

Relentless in his assault. Closing the damaged eye, my limbs finally move.

Crawling away to free myself from the onslaught of abuse whilst hoping to find something to protect myself with, even if it feels futile.

Suddenly hauled back, Samael winds his fists in my hair and propels his knee into my face adding to pain as it accumulates in droves.

Another he drags me into it, blood beginning to gush from my nose, and well up where my teeth have cut my lips.

It’s just him and I in this, a battle of wills, and the end of an era one way or another.

Still holding onto my hair, he starts to drag me out of the room. If he gets me anywhere else, I’m surely going to die. As accepting of that as I am, of meeting the end of a very unfair and shitty life, he’s going with me.

“Wh.. where’s… Lucien?” I gurgle through blood. Keep him busy, keep this self centered being occupied long enough where I can find my bearings again.

“Dead. I suppose. In a round about way way, thanks are in order. If it wasn’t for you, you know, turning his lights off with that hit to the cranium, I wouldn’t be here. A perk for me, not so much for you and your family, yeah?”

I… no. Don’t fucking go there, Nadia. You can do that sad shit later. Get your ass up!

His voice is back in my head, Kace’s. Where it used to live when I was simply existing with the pain of his death.

Encouraging me, scolding me, loving me, even if it was only in my mind.

There’s nothing left of me to break anymore, the pieces are scattered too far for me to reach.

It’s been said that violence isn’t the answer.

While I should have always lived within that code of conduct, violence is the only thing that brings Lucien and I together—and it will be the thing that finally severs us.

Samael gives me a yank, making me stumble forward and fall to my stomach.

A sharp item digs into me when I land. Samael's voice is furiously shouting at me to get up. Screaming about removing my head from my neck if I don’t get the hell up.

Struggling to push away the floor, my eyes land on what jabbed into me when I landed.

It’s now or nothing.

Impatiently he uses my hair to yank me completely off the floor, introducing another ache to the myriad of others. Feels like gravity is going to pull me under the floor, the wind could blow me over at a moment's notice, and Samael would still keep me upright long enough to curse me.

“The Lord may have sat with whores and drunks, telling mankind that these people were the ones in most need of his love and sacrifice, but your story never ends with his grace embracing you in warmth and in light. You, forever, will know torment. By his will, or mine.”

Looking up at what’s left of my brother, I close my eyes and let go.

“Lucien… Nadia,” our mother coos in the distance.

Turning quickly, I’m standing in a field of so many dandelions my heart pitter patters in overwhelming joy.

Dropping down, I start picking as many as I can.

Fisting my hand around their stems so tight, they begin to ooze latex.

Most of them are still with their soft yellow petals that remind me of the sun, the others puffy like clouds ready to float through the air.

Hearing a footstep, my head turns to the side and I see Lucien.

He’s little, like he was the first time I saw him.

Clutching my flowers, I put my right foot on the ground and push up until I’m standing.

Realizing we are the same height—the same age.

He smiles at me and takes my hand, but waits patiently for me to move all the dandelions over to my other one.

Looking at him, I can’t help but smile when he gives me the same child-like beam.

“There you two are, come on. Lucien, I have noodles ready for you. Nadia, your kitty is running all over the house and needs someone to play with.”

“Yes mama,” we both answer in the smallest voices.

We stand there a bit longer, smiling at one another before he pulls me into a hug.

“I love you, sissy.”

“I love you too, bubba.”

Squeezing my hand, we take off running.

“I love you,” I choke out. My hand squeezing onto the keys I previously landed on. “I know… no one has told you that… but I do. But, one of you is the devil.”

Swinging my arm back, I punch him with the knees spiked through my fingers as if they were a pair of brass knuckles.

Samael screams out when spurts of blood spray all over me.

Releasing me, I follow him and keep hitting him wherever the keys will stab into him.

Forty years of my life being destroyed, dealing with terrible outcomes, and so much heartbreak comes out of me in waves of unrestrained yet emotionless violence.

Samael stops defending himself finally and I pull away.

Empty, the monster inside of me looks down her nose at what I’ve just done.

Throwing the keys to the side, the metal clinks and clanks when they crash into whatever surface they crash onto.

Without looking back, I turn and head to Kace.

He’s still out, his chest not moving but I be fucking damned if I let him go again.

Stomping over, I grab his shirt and drag him off the couch where Lucien tossed his body like he meant nothing to someone. He’s my entire night sky, might not be much to others, but it’s more than enough to me. Laying him down flat, I quickly tilt his head back and check his pulse.

Nothing .

Declaring to the eerie atmosphere, I scream, “I’m not losing you again!

” Placing the heel of my right hand on his sternum, between his nipples, the left braces on the top and I thrust down.

Sounds of Kace’s ribs crack with the first handful of compressions, losing myself in the frantic nature of trying to save his life.

“Co… come on… Kace. I need… you. You’re not…

leaving… me again. Not when… our daughter’s…

waiting for you.. too.” Huffing my words over the rapid compressions, stopping at the thirty count to tilt his head back, hold his nose, and breathe into his mouth.

The expanse of his chest rises with the two breaths, then I’m back at it again.

Over and over until he gasps on his own and relief washes through me.

I immediately stop CPR, grab his shoulder, and pull him into the recovery position so pressure lifts away from his chest.

Observing Kace closely, as in making sure he’s still breathing, I reach into his pocket and dig for his phone.

As soon as I have it out, a finger presses the small button on the side where the screen illuminates a photo of me sitting in the courtyard of Bluitt wearing my issued denim jacket.

I tap the little phone icon and select ‘emergency’.

I don't have time to ask about it, but I now realize it comes from a place of devotion and not a place of obsession.

“Cotton top!” A Hispanic accent radiates from the phone. Why, why is he answering an emergency call—you know what, whatever.

“Matias?” Choking out his name, my evasive emotions from a little while ago start to come back in a flood.

“Nadia? Ah, mierda. What happened?”

“Please… he needs help.”

“Maldita sea. Stay put, I’m sending someone to you.”

The dam that was holding everything back?

Catastrophic failure—every ounce of grief returns with a vengeance.