Judas (12 page)

             
She offered him a drink but he wasn't thirsty so she wandered into the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. The only thing he wanted, he would take when he was ready to do so. He shifted in the chair and lit a smoke, not bothering to cover himself but instead, he pulled the white cable knit sweater over his head and dropped it onto the floor.

He was quiet for a long while and after the second cigarette had been crushed out, he finally spoke. "This is going to hurt." The single statement told her all she needed to know and she immediately laid down on the floor in front of him and raised her bottom into the air.

             
The next several hours were a blur and once he started, he couldn't stop. The emotions and the desire met face to face and began to pour out of him in torrents of euphoric pleasure, as he took her over and over. He poured his entire soul into her as piece by piece, his frustration and contempt for himself and all he did were carried away, freeing him from the urges that had absorbed his being.

Though he was cruel and punishing in his demands, he knew she would endure him and he would push her beyond her limit. When he was finished, he scooped her exhausted figure into his arms and carried her to her bed.

              He sat quietly on the floor, at the foot of her bed, smoking and waiting but for what, he didn't know. She slept for hours and he finally stood and went to gather his clothing. Before he left, he carried in the boxes of clothing and the shoes he had picked up for her and left them inside her door. It was only a small gift but he knew that she had earned it. He had used her until she couldn't continue and as usual, he still didn't relent. The woman was both the nourishment and the poison he needed to obtain any peace within his life.

             
The drive back home was agonizing. He didn't know if Adessa would still be up or how furious with him she would be and he knew he would deserve it if she never spoke to him again. He could still feel the sting of the fresh wounds he knew she would no doubt see.

The two identical incisions ran vertically down his chest, about two inches in length, cutting through and then stopping just below his nipples, where Jaime's mouth had been only a few hours before. He wished like hell he could save her from it. FUCK!

CHAPTER TWELVE

She had just fallen asleep when she heard his truck coming down the lane. Her eyes were scratchy and raw from the hours she had spent crying, waiting for him to come home. She had finally given up and succumbed to the exhaustion and here he was. She sat up in bed and took a deep breath as his footsteps slowly made their way up the steps and to their room. He hesitated several seconds before finally opening the door.

              He walked straight to the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open, allowing her a full view as he dropped his keys on the floor and began to vomit into the cold, ceramic toilet. Her eyes widened but she said nothing as he collapsed to his knees, groaning and spewing until finally, he laid down on the floor, struggling to catch his breath.

             
Her eyes caught two crimson stains that stood in stark contrast to his white sweater and she gasped at the sight. "My god! What happened?" she shrieked as she scrambled from the bed and rushed to get to him.

"It's fine." he said, nearly groaning.

"Let me see it. What happened to you?" she persisted, already pulling at the hem of his sweater.

He allowed her to remove his top, knowing that she would never understand and he had no words to explain. The shock and horror was clear in her eyes as she stared at his chest and the wounds that continued to seep.

"I'll kill her!" she hissed, as she grabbed a wet washcloth and lathered it up with soap.

"No
doll. It's not her fault. Calm down!" he said, trying to catch his breath.

"Not her fault? You co
me home cut up and it's not her fault? How can you say that?" she wailed, scrambling to find some ointment and bandages to dress the dripping lacerations.

"She didn't do this, doll!"

"Then who did?" She was kneeling beside him now, trembling with anger as she dabbed the oily balm against the open flesh.

The room was silent for a long moment while he allowed her to finish the dressing.

"Well?" she finally snapped.

"It was me, doll. I did it."

"WHAT!"

"You cut yourself? My god
, Judas, why?"

"I enjoyed it. Just let it drop."

"Oh, God. Don't say that!" she wailed, her face twisting to reflect her despair.

He stood up and began to wash the dried blood from his hands. "It's true. I wanted to do it," he said solemnly. It hurt him to say those words but they were the truth and he knew that it was only a matter of time now before all of his secrets came spilling out.

He knew he had to find a way to help her accept it but he had no clue how.  She was bawling now, but he needed her and when he took her hand, she followed him to their bed without a fight. "You remember what I told you?" His tone was soft but but serious and she knew better than to deny him.

"Whatever you need, Judas. Do it," she said as she removed her flimsy nightgown.

"Don't be afraid, doll. I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to soothe her as he wiped the tears that refused to stop.

              He made love to her, softer and slower than he ever had and each second that passed was full of tender, nurturing bliss. She laid there and cried, just allowing him to do whatever it was that he needed, having no idea what was expected of her. The smell of his mistress was thick against his skin and it disgusted her to even think about it. She laid there for him but refused to return his delicate advances.

His lips and hands had touched every inch of her body, caressing and adoring as he took his time with her. The tears still flowed and there were times she started to sob but he didn't stop. He kept going at the agonizingly unhurried pace, kissing away the tears from her swollen eyes, forcing her to feel his every emotion until she almost thought she could feel his soul as it blended with her own. At some point, the tears had stopped and she felt calm beneath his soothing touches.

              When he finally finished, the sun was coming up and though she never found a release, she was spent. They both slept until late afternoon and when he awoke, the glorious assault began again. Neither of them said a word but she was receptive, and at times burning for him to continue. He took her in so many sensuous ways, all of them slow and exact, not allowing her head to hit the pillow before beginning anew. It was evening now and sun had already begun to set. Finally, he spoke. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." She had no idea what he was thanking her for but she watched him stand and walk toward the shower without a care in the world. Her thoughts raced but she finally stood and went down to the kitchen to get them something to eat.

              "Judas, you have to tell me what happened," she said as she dumped the fresh omelet out of the pan onto his waiting plate.

"Why do you need to know? You're not a part of it," his voice was soft and he didn't sound angry or broken. He sounded like Judas.

"Like hell I'm not! Whatever happened last night, didn't stop until half an hour ago. I think I was involved in that!"

She was right. She was a part of it and she deserved to know.

"I'll talk to you, doll. I just don't know what to say. Where to begin..."

She cleared her throat. "At the beginning."

"Let's have a decent meal and I'll light a fire on the patio. Deal?" his voice was soft and at that second, he looked so handsome and boyish that it would have been easy for her to forget the past twenty-four hours had it not been for the two matching bandages that showed through the thin fabric of the plain white t-shirt he wore.

             
"I'm sorry I haven't felt comfortable sharing any of this with you, doll. It's just that it's personal and I'm not used to talking about it," he began as they settled into the wicker sofa. His hands were steady as he lit a cigarette.

"Judas, that's what I'm here for. You can tell me anything. I promise I can handle it." She was pleading with him to tell her.

"I should have told you everything before we got married, but I was so caught up, I didn't think that far ahead. And then, I was afraid you would leave."

"I'm here now, and I'm not leaving. I want to help you through whatever it is. Let me be your friend." Her words were soft and he knew she meant them.

He nodded. "I need a friend more than a wife right now."

"I know, baby. I understand that now," she said soothingly.

They were sitting side by side and she turned toward him, listening but not touching him as he continued. "I'm a sadist," he lied for the first time since they met.

She had no idea what that meant. "I'm lost. What is a sadist?"

"It just means I enjoy inflicting pain... during sex." That wasn't really even true either but it would work for what he needed to convey. He was two for two. Fuck.

              She took several moments to think about what he had said. It certainly solved the mystery of why he didn't want to discuss the rough way he had taken her that night, but she had enjoyed it. He had nothing to be ashamed of. "Judas, I told you I enjoyed the things you did that night."

He nodded, refusing to accept the truth of her words. He couldn't. "I can't do those things to you Adessa. I'm not going to disrespect your body."

"Is that what you think? That giving me something I crave would disrespect me?" she looked wounded.

"I think that given my tastes, I would risk going too far and I could hurt you." It was the best way he knew to explain.

             
She looked puzzled. "Do you want to hurt me? Like, really hurt me?"

"Yes." Really? That was a fine time to tell the truth! "I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone but yes, I would enjoy pushing you past your threshold and I would cum so fucking hard while you beg me to stop." And there went the filter. He was riding a thin line and he knew it.

"I have no idea how to respond to that," she said meekly.

"Neither do I." He raked his fingers through his hair before continuing.

              "Look, it's not easy for me to talk about it. It's just different with you. I feel things I never thought I would feel again, and I don't want to risk losing that. It's not worth it."

She took a deep breath. "So Jaime gives you what you refuse to give to me."

He shifted to lay on the sofa, pulling her to straddle him as his head rested on the arm. "I've never let anything with her affect us doll. It's just sex. You and I are so much more than that."

              She was beginning to understand. It wasn't completely clear but this was a step. A major one for him and she hoped this was just the beginning. He was finally opening up and she didn't want to push too far but she needed answers. She was shocked by her own reaction to his words. How could just the sound of his voice calm her so much?

She was completely focused and listening as his friend and not the hostile wife she had been earlier. She was sure at that moment, he could admit to murder and she would accept it. Accept him. He was so tender and raw, and somehow, she had played a part. The last time, she hadn't let him touch her afterward. This time, she had... cleansed him?

             
It was nearing bedtime, but he wasn't tired. He was comfortable with her perched atop him. "Judas, tell me about her," she murmured.

"What do you want to know?" He hoped this wasn't going to lead to another fight.

"I understand you are rough with her, and you say you don't love her, but who is she? What does she do for a living? Does she know about me?"

He was not going to go three for three. "She's a hooker, doll, and yes she does." He braced himself for a blow that never came.

She was quiet for several seconds before leaning down to cup his face in her hands as she kissed him softly. He was in shock. "Not the reaction I was expecting, but alright."

              She felt the weight of the world leave her shoulders as he said those simple words that played over and over in her ears. "She's a hooker." She knew she should be outraged by the revelation but she wasn't. She was thrilled to know that he had been honest. It really was just about sex.