Judas (19 page)

             
Ms. Verino stirred the tea and sprinkled in a mixture of herbs and assorted other things. “What about the house? He givin ya that too?” she asked as she replaced the ingredients on the cupboard shelves.

Adessa nodded. “I haven't told him, but yes, I'm going for all of it,” she told her, picking up the warm glass and giving it a sniff.

The old woman wiped her hands on her apron and took Adessa by the arm, leading her into the small living room. “Good fer you. Aint no man ever gonna hurt you again, and it's best ya aint got no ties to him after it's done.”

             
She settled into the chaise that had become her makeshift bed and accepted the small pillows the old woman offered. “You're right,” she finally said. She first took a sip of the foul smelling brew and made a face.

“Just breathe deep, child. Ya got ta keep it down fer it to help,” her voice was stern and it always reminded Adessa of an old school teacher when she spoke that way. For all her firmness, the woman was trying to help her, and Adessa wasn't offended.

              She finally held her breath and drank the entire mug, swallowing each drink with difficulty. Her body was immediately rejecting the bitter taste but Adessa knew it would work. She closed her eyes, heaving silently until at last, it stopped. Her stomach was still churning but she had kept it down and she was proud of herself for the small accomplishment. She closed her eyes and tried to doze, not thinking about the situation or what had caused it.

“How ya feelin?” The voice startled her and she immediately felt a wave of nausia, followed by an intense cramp in her tummy.

“Sick,” she whimpered, not opening her eyes.

Ms. Verino's voice softened some, “Don't ya be worryin. Ms. Verino's gonna take care of everything.”

              It was after midnight when his cell phone rang. He had just fallen asleep and Jaime was still wrapped tightly around him. Who the hell could that be? The phone stopped ringing before he could pick it up but he saw it was her number he had missed. He was debating on whether to return the call, but it began to ring again. This couldn't be good. “Hello?” he answered quietly, trying to not wake Jaime, who was already stirring.

“Judas
! The baby! The baby is gone!” she wailed hysterically into his ear.

His blood stopped flowing. It took him several moments before he could speak. “What happened?”

              “I don't know. I wasn't feeling well. I blamed it on my nerves but tonight, it just happened. I'm so sorry!” she was sobbing and he had no words to comfort her.

“You gave birth t
o our son? Why didn't you call earlier? What hospital are you at?” The questions fired rapidly and he was frantic. Jaime had sat up in bed and began to stroke his arm as he wailed into the phone.

“There was no time. I was so out of it. The pain...” she broke off, as he interrupted.

“Where are you?”

There was a hesitant silence before she seemed to pull herself together some. “I'm at St. Claire's South.

             
He was dressed and grabbing his keys in minutes and Jaime was scrambling to throw clothes on herself. “You don't have to come, Jai,” he told her, throwing on a thin jacket.

“I want to. I don't want you going alone,” she said, grabbing a hairbrush and her bag, dang
ling her shoes from her hand as she passed him up.

They arrived at the hospital and Judas threw the truck in park, leaving her in the dust as he charged into the building to get to her. “Where's my son?” he blurted out as he darted through the corrid
ors that led to her small room. She still held the tiny boy in her arms and he nearly fainted when he saw him. He was so small, and gray, and lifeless, swaddled in a blanket against her chest. He picked up the infant, ignoring her weak protest and hugged him tight against him. He was sitting on the floor, sobbing as Jaime finally entered and sat down right beside him. Adessa watched them but said nothing, and her contempt for him and for Jaime was vividly lining her features.

             
Judas was in a daze by the time the doctors came to retrieve his son and had explained to him that the cord had been wrapped around the infants neck. He had been born at home and Adessas efforts to save him had failed. She recounted the events, including how Ms. Verino had delivered the baby when it became evident that there was no time.

The baby was so small that she was barely dilated, but it was just enough for his son to push through. “His name is Zachary,” she told him, and he was surprised that she had chosen a name they hadn't talked about. He kissed the lifeless cheek and finally, reluctantly handed him over to the waiting technician.

              Jaime stayed by his side, refusing to leave him as he sat on the floor, in the hallway outside her door. He knew he should be in there comforting her, talking to her, something. He had no words. He was devastated and for the third time, he was going to bury his own child. There was nothing he could do about it. She asked to speak with him and he went to her, barely able to stand, much less stroke her hand or her hair. He couldn't tell her it would be alright, because he knew that it wouldn't. “I'm going to file,” she told him.

He blinked, not expecting the sharp words. “I'm sorry, Adessa,” he began. “I never meant for any of this to happen. You know that.”

              She nodded but held her ground. “It's all over now. We have nothing to bind us. You never loved me and I never accepted what you gave. It wasn't meant to be,” she said, matter-of-factly.

The words pierced his heart but he knew they were true. He didn't love her. He never would. Everything he tried to feel for her had been fruitless. And now their son was gone and she didn't even seem to care. She was more worried about hurting him than asking for comfort. He began to wonder who the hell this woman was.

              “Just go, Judas. Take your whore and go,” she said. Her words were final. He knew she meant them. After all they had shared, and all he did to protect her, it was all gone. This place was no longer his home. All he could think of was leaving and never returning to Michigan. He took Jaime's hand and they finally left the hospital. There was nothing more he could do but wait to say goodbye a final time. That would be two more days. She had chosen a simple but beautiful white casket with blue interior. The inscription inside read, “Sleep, sweet angel, sleep.” It brought him to tears to see it.

             
The reverend said a few words, followed by a prayer and Judas stood  across from Adessa, with Jaime one one side, and Carrie on the other. A little old woman was beside her and Judas had never saw the woman before but she seemed to be someone important to his wife. His wife. The word sounded foreign to him now, but it was still true.

As they lowered him into the ground, Judas felt like his soul was being buried alongside his son. He was the last to leave the cemetery, refusing to go until the last of the loose dirt was surrounding the small grave, encasing his third son.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

April turned to May, and before he knew it, June was approaching. He hadn't heard a word from Adessa since they buried Zachary, and Judas mourned for them both. He was still with Jaime, because his home had become too painful. Each time he had gone back, the air was so thick inside that Judas could barely drag in a breath. He no longer felt Leanna when he entered. Instead, it was all pain and misery. He knew it was time to move on.

             
He never touched the coke again after that night. She offered it to him one time, after the baby died, but he had declined it. It was rough, and continued to be rough, but he was determined to never touch the shit again. He refused to think about the drug that cost him so much and though it had no role in Zachary's death, he still felt it had played some part.

He refused to go back down that path and she had supported him in his choice by removing it from the house, and talking him down from the ledge whenever he started to get the urge. He wasn't a full on addict, but the temptation was deafening at times when he was alone in the night with nothing but his thoughts and his nightmares.

              Jaime was sitting with him, watching the rain pour down, replenishing the soil, as the fresh blooms bent and bowed under the force. “What's on your mind, Mr. Quiet?”

He didn't turn his head to look at her as he spoke. “I'm not going back to work,” he told her. They had already discussed his upcoming vacation time, and she agreed that he needed the time away.

She raised a brow, “Not going back, like, tomorrow, or like, ever?”

“I'm finishing up at the end of the month. June will now be a permanent vacation. I've got everything in line, and Carrie has been notified,” he told her.

              “What will you do, then?” She shifted in her chair, ready to listen intently, as she always had. She was always eager to listen, no matter what the subject was, and even as he mourned for Zachary, she was at his side, encouraging him to talk, and helping him to grieve. She had even wiped his tears when he was so sticken that all he could do was bury his face in her chest and weep.

He shrugged, “I think I'll go back to Florida.”

She nodded, “You miss your family?”

“Most of them, yes. I think it's time I got to know my brothers a bit more, and I think the farther from Michigan I can get, the better.”

              He knew she didn't take offense, but she did sound saddened to know he would be leaving her.

“You better not forget about me,” she said, trying to lighten her tone.

His mood was beginning to change as he felt her struggling with the revelation. He hated to do this to her, but he knew he couldn't stay. “Jai, I will never forget you. You mean everything to me. You're my best friend,” he said softly, watching her fight the tears that threatened.

“Then take me with you,” she said, lifting her gaze to meet his.

He shook his head, “I can't.”

             
“I see,” she said quietly, her eyes reflecting her pain. He felt sorry for her but there was nothing he could do. He was nearly forty years old and she was barely twenty-two. She had school to finish and dreams to follow and a whole life ahead of her. While men might clap him on the back and give knowing winks, decent folk would scoff at the indecent pairing. She had the sweet, angelic face of a child, and despite, or because of her full breasts, he knew that the match would be frowned upon and subject to rumors and ridicule. It just wasn't possible.

             
“I'll have your money transferred before I go,” he assured her. He had offered her five million dollars for the broken arrangement, having no idea if the sum was enough to cover all he owed her for. Her eyes narrowed “What money?”

He sighed heavily, knowing damn well she knew what he was talking about. “Jai, please..” he wanted her to consider it.

Her eyes flashed fire at him. “I hope you don't think I took that proposal seriously!” she bit out.

             
“I would hope you did, because it was a serious offer. Look, if you want more, we can talk about it,” he said, ready to begin negotiations.

“No! I don't want your money! I never wanted your money! I want you!” she shrieked, looking as if she would clobber him.

“I insist. Jaime, I have abused your body in many ways over the years and you will bear those marks for the rest of your life. You deserve to be compensated.”

             
“I got your “compensation”, buddy! I have news for you. No one will ever touch me again, except you, so there's no one to see it!” She was offended. “You are the only man I've been with and the only one I want. My body belongs to you whether you pay for it or not,” she protested.

He was dumbfounded. “Jai, our arrangement is over. You are free now.”

She shook her head, giving a small growl. “I don't want to be free, J. I want to be yours.”

             
Her words echoed in his head. He knew he couldn't keep her. She wasn't property. She wasn't a slave. She wasn't his pet, or his toy, or his whore. She was Jai. His best friend. She was his soul mate. She was his... love. He sat quietly and allowed himself to accept the brutal truth of his words. He loved her.

There was no other word for it, no excuses, no pretense, no denying it. He was in love with her. He felt a tremor of sudden fear move up his spine, twisting his features as his eyes locked onto hers. He sat in silence, trying desperately to grasp the new realization and what it meant.

              Did he love her? He had bared is very soul to her with no shame and she had always been there for him, nourishing and invigorating him in ways he didn't understand and couldn't explain. She had known him at his very worst, and she accepted him completely. She knew every inch of his body and exactly how and when to touch him. She gave him everything, and accepted everything of him in return.

Yes. He was in love with her. He needed her. And that was exactly the reason that he wouldn't stay. He said nothing as he reached for her, pulling her onto his lap. He cradled her against him in his arms, rocking them both, as the rain poured over the saturated ground in front of them. He was lost in his thoughts, reflecting on the past and present and every now and then, he caught a glimpse of hope for the future.

             
She stood in front of the full length mirror. Her eyes caught his as she watched his reflection enter the room, approaching from behind. He came to a sharp halt as he saw her standing there. She slid her hands fall over the swell of her breasts, letting them catch against the stiffened peaks. Her eyes were locked onto his as she continued the display. Slender fingers slipped beneath the thin strap of her thin gown, pushing it over a bared shoulder, and then the other, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. He crossed to her in two long strides and plucked up the hairbrush from the nearby table.

             
He began to remove the clips that secured her silken tendrils. One by one, he let them fall to the floor, allowing her locks to flow, cascading down over her shoulders. He began to lightly stroke the shining mass, leading the soft bristles as they brushed against her bare back. She could feel the warmth radiating from his form as he stood close, but not enough to touch. She shivered as his heat enveloped her, causing a dull, pointed ache to form down low. She instinctively arched her back, gracefully pushing her bottom against him.

             
A soft sigh escaped as stroke after stroke fell against her skin, tugging at her scalp in a sensual caress as he brushed every strand until her hair glistened against the warm glow of the sunset. His hand moved to circle her waist, pressing her tighter against his swollen length. He suddenly dropped the brush from his hand as he began to gather her hair in his hand and push it over one shoulder, exposing a slender neck.

His lips left behind a soft kiss against her nape, before he lifted his head to meet the heated gaze that watched from the mirror. Without warning, he spun her to face him, leaning in to kiss her deeply, as he took a step forward, backing her against the nearby table.

              With a sweep of his hand, he cleared the bottles of lotions and perfumes, creating the perfect perch before lifting her from the floor and placing her bottom against the polished wood. Her ankles instantly hooked against the table's edge, fastening her there, as she returned the kiss with unbridled passion. He pulled away breathlessly, grasping the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head.  Her fingers instantly began to roam over his bared torso, seeking and finding with urgency as their lips and tongues entwined, creating a dizzying dance of lust filled desire.

             
His hands quickly worked his jeans, slipping them over his hips as he stepped out of his boots in one motion. He buried himself between her thighs, allowing his length to rest against her navel as he kissed her for an eternity. Unable to bear the sinful torture another second, she breathlessly began to plead, “Please...,” she breathed raggedly against his mouth as she took in his air, sharing her own breaths as if one could only thrive from the other. It was erotic and intense and she needed him inside of her. He answered the prayer as he pushed his tip down to meet her opening. With a low groan, he sheathed himself inside of her.

             
He took her slowly and lovingly at first, allowing her to savor the feel of him as he thrust into her over and over. His hands gripped her hips, pinning her to the table as each stroke landed driven and focused against her womb. The reckless pace continued until she began to tremble against the force of her release. She leaned her head against his shoulder, biting into his flesh in desperation as the moment consumed her. She felt his release quickly follow, leaving the hot lava to free flow, filling her with his essence.

             
He scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed, where another delicious assault began. It was nearly midnight when he was finally sated, and she had given him everything his body demanded of her. She was spent, but sated, and as she lay with her hand over her womb, she couldn't help but smile to herself. He was still buried inside of her as they lay there, joined, tangled, together. She drifted off with her heart full of love, and she knew without the words, that he did the same.

             
“Hello, Jaime,” the sickening sweet voice said at the other end of the phone.

Jaime had to think hard on this one. She knew the voice but she couldn't place the face. She had only heard Adessa speak a handful of times and never was she this pleasant. Jaime immediately went into defense mode upon realizing who it was. “Can I help you with something?” she asked, returning the same sugary facade.

“I'm trying to reach Judas. He's not accepting my calls so I thought maybe you could have him call me,” she said, obviously feigning innocence. If she wanted to talk to Judas, she knew where to find him and Jaime knew she had never tried to contact him at all.

             
“Cut the shit, what do you really want?” her tone was frosted as she gave up the pretense. Adessa wanted something and she didn't have the patience for games.

Adessa cleared her throat, “Alright then. I want to know if he's still fucking you.”

“Every morning. Noon. Night...,” she answered, relishing in rubbing it in Adessas face.

“I see. So he's shacking up with you at your place now. Smart of him, since I'm taking back my house,” she hissed. Adessa was seething, but Jaime wasn't afraid of her.

              “That's between you two. None of my business but just so you know, whatever you want to say to him should probably go through your attorneys, not me. Being married to one, I thought you would have known that.” Jaime wasn't going to pull any punches. “Besides that, he's happy now so whatever your game is, don't expect him to play it.”

Adessa cackled at the suggestion. “Happy? Him? With you? I doubt it.”

Jaime lost her patience. “Yes, he's happy. Healing, doing just fine.” She had to get in one last jab. “Our baby is also doing well.” Oh snap! She shouldn't have said that. She hadn't told him about the baby yet. 

             
She had been waiting until she could no longer deny it because it would have been unfair for her to tell him now, when he was trying to find himself and she didn't want to take away his time to grieve for baby Zachary. She wasn't going to upset him with the news. She knew he couldn't handle burying another baby and she wouldn't willingly put him through that pain again, it if something was to happen.  “I will tell Judas you called. If he calls you back, that's on him. If not, sorry about your luck,” Jaime told her.

“Wait, Jaime,” Adessa said, stopping her from hanging up.

Jaime groaned, “What?”

             
“Is he really doing alright?” she asked, softening her tone.

“Yes, he is. And he doesn't know about the baby either, so don't fucking tell him,” she warned.