Judas (20 page)

“You don't have to worry about that. I am not interested in outing your crack baby,” she sniped in response.

Jaime wanted to rip her throat out. “He's not on crack! He hasn't even touched coke against since that night, if you have to know. I told you, he's healing. Leave him alone.”

Her tone softened again at that, “Oh? Well in that case, I wish him luck.”

             
The phone went dead, and Jaime stood there staring at it in fury. How dare her call and pretend she gives a shit! She left him! All she wanted was to rub it in that she wanted that stupid house. It was all about the money all along. And now, Jaime had a new reason to worry. She was scared to death that Adessa would tell him about the baby and Jaime could only hope that there was a single shred of decency left in the cow. If she ever cared about him at all, she wouldn't tell him.

             
She felt the tightness in her jeans as she sat, and had even started to wear longer shirts to disguise the fact that most of the time, she couldn't even get her jeans to zip. She knew she was running out of time, but she didn't want to hinder any decisions he made about staying or leaving. She didn't want to be an obligation.

All she cared about in life was his happiness and the survival of their child. It worried her deeply that neither Leanna's nor Adessa's babies had survived. She prayed that whatever the cause of the miscarriages, the same wouldn't happen to her.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

He threw his head back against the padded leather chair, closing his eyes in abandon as she rode him, hard and unrelenting. The tip of his tongue circled the finger that was pressed between his clenched teeth. This was one of the few times since his wife left that he had given to the pressure and promises of bliss that she so eagerly offered. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't a coke fueled release that threw him into the bowels of oblivion, as every other time before then. It was empty and passionless and he didn't need it.

             
He matched her movements as the muscles in his buttocks and thighs tightened and released, propelling his hips as she rose and fell against him. Her audible moans echoed through the small office as she milked his length, seeking, but not finding. He was willing himself to finish it, struggling to focus on each movement but the longer the charade continued, the more he was beginning to feel ill. He suddenly spit the fingertip from his mouth, shoving her to the floor with a thundering “NO!”

             
Carrie's eyes were wide, and her chest heaving as she quickly recovered her composure. “What the hell?”

Emerald orbs aligned with her heady gaze as he lifted his head to take in the view of her sprawled on the floor with her skirt still hiked up above her hips. Her panties dangled from her ankle and the sight of her would have been arousing had the circumstances been different. “Fix yourself,” he ordered, averting his eyes. He heard her stand and begin to smooth her clothing, doing as she was told as heavy breaths continued to fall.

              “Mr. Quinn, are you alright? Did I do something wrong?” she stammered, trying to assess the situation.

“I'm sorry, Carrie. I just can't,” he said, lowering his head.

“What do you mean? You don't enjoy me anymore?” she asked, with hurt and confusion in her voice.

He groaned. It wasn't her fault. “It's not that. You're very good at what you do,” he said, tilting his head to the side as he looked at her. “I just can't feel you. It's.. empty,” he said, giving her the truth.

“This is about that girl, isn't it. You're in love with her,” she accused.

He nodded. “Yes.”

              She groaned. “Do you think next time you fall in love, you can refrain from dropping me on my ass?” There was deliberate playfulness in her voice but he was serious in his response.

“There won't be a next time,” he told her.

“A next time for us, or for falling in love?” she quizzed. Something told him she already knew the answer.

“For either.”

              He sat there watching her, not even caring that his dick was out. He was lost in his thoughts, wondering how the hell he had even gotten to this point with her to begin with. He had never slept with anyone in his profession and that included all co-workers, clients, employees or other staff. He just wasn't that tacky. Yet here he was, trying to explain to Carrie that this wasn't her fault.

It was easy to blame the drugs, but he knew damn well she had pushed. She began to come onto him daily in her attempts to seduce him and the absence of his conscience had allowed the affair to continue. He had no idea if it was about money or her own pleasure but it was ending, here and now.

She was just another on his list of people to walk away from.

“Sir?” Her voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

“Yes, Carrie?”

She hesitated a moment before asking, “You know she still loves you, right?”

He knew she was talking about Adessa. “No. But does it matter?”

She shrugged. “Maybe
, not. I just thought you should know.” Her eyes had softened and he knew there was no venom in her tone. She hadn't held anything against him.

“I appreciate that but in the future, I'd rather not know such things,” he said, removing any doubt of his opinion on the matter.

              He figured the two had remained friends but what he didn't understand was how Carrie could be so intent on sleeping with him, and then face her friend, knowing that Adessa wouldn't approve. It would have hurt her to know. Everything hurt her. It didn't matter if he was ever honest or not because both the truth and the lies had destroyed her. Destroyed them. He wasn't aware when Carrie slipped away sometime later. His thoughts had returned to the bewitching redhead that bore his last name.

              She weighed heavily on his mind as his week came to a close, signaling the end of a career he had spent his life building. He was leaving while he was at the top and for that, he knew he was lucky. He had gone over every line of every conversation in his head, separating the truth from the lies and he remembered his very first statement to her after she agreed to be his wife. The words “This is forever” were playing in his mind like a symphony, mocking his failure. Their marriage hadn't crumbled, it had exploded, shattering under the pressure of a million broken dreams.

             
His boxes were packed and all of his personal items were strewn in boxes that littered the office he had leased for the last decade. As he looked around the room, he was conflicted between his eagerness to begin his future and wishing he could change the past. This must be what it feels like to be on the front lines when the war had ended and all that remained were the scattered ashes and broken, lifeless shapes of those who had died for their cause. He had no idea where the journey would lead, but he knew the starting point was leaving this town.

             
Faint footsteps could be heard in the distance and he briefly wondered if Carrie had forgotten something. “Judas.” His head snapped instantly to the doorway where she stood. She was wearing denim shorts and a black cotton blouse but it wasn't her clothing that caught his attention. It was the tired blue eyes and the faded copper hair that made him instantly want to touch her. She was broken. It had only been a few months since the night in the hospital but she looked like she had aged twenty years. Had he not heard that familiar voice, he wouldn't have even recognized his wife. His heart went out to her when he realized it was effects of what he had done.

             
“Yes, doll?” His voice was soft as he stood there, trying to determine her intent.

She looked around the room at all the packed boxes and finally allowed her eyes to settle against his. “I guess I just wanted to see for myself. Carrie told me you were leaving town,” she said, without emotion.

He nodded, “I am. I've closed the practice. Retirement, I suppose.” He was too young to retire but he didn't have a better answer at the moment. He was leaving without a plan.

She shook her head, crossing the room to stand in front of him. He nearly took a step back as the force of her warmth fell against his frame.

              “So this is it? You're just heading out and leaving your wife and your home behind?” There was no bitterness in her words. She was calm and questioning.

“I don't want the house, Adessa. It's yours if you want it,” he told her.

“Why didn't you file?” she asked solemnly, scanning his features.

He shrugged, “Why didn't you?”

“Because I love you,” she said flatly.

“Love isn't enough. You should know that,” he said dryly, allowing his mind to briefly wander back to his situation with Jaime.

              She couldn't argue his point but she could throw his words back at him. “I don't believe in divorce,” she said, trying to rouse a response.

“Neither do I, but unlike you, I have never been the one to leave.” His words were cool, but he meant them. He still had a bit of lingering anger at her for leaving him, despite all of his attempts to prevent it.

“I'm sorry, Judas, I was hurting and I didn't understand. I was selfish and I know now that it wasn't about me. It was about us, and I failed you just as much as you failed me.”

He took several moments to process her words. She had accepted her part in what had gone so terribly wrong between them. He believed her sincerity.

              “Adessa, we can't change the past. We were both wrong, I know you understand that now, but nothing has changed in my life. I am what I am. Can you ever accept that?” He was ready to bear it to her.

“I don't know. Maybe if I can understand it. I can't accept something if I don't know what it is, or why it is,” she reasoned.

He nodded, “You experienced it, doll. You should understand it now.”

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “I understand some. But I have questions and a lot of them. You owe me those answers. You hurt me.”

              He didn't try to deny it. “You left me no choice. I tried so hard to protect you from it. I was wrong, but I can't take it back, and I don't know for the life of me how to change.” His voice faltered as the tears threatened to erupt.

“Don't you dare cry in my presence, Judas. I won't have it. Just tell me that you want to come home and that this nonsense can stop. Tell me you will get some help and allow me to continue loving you. I'm your wife, and that is what I'm here for.” Her words were fierce and he felt her fighting for him in that instant. She wanted him. Despite everything, she was standing here, beckoning him to go home with her. To their home.

              “Will you meet me at the house tonight?” he asked. He knew they had unfinished business between them and he wanted to be able to leave Monday with his future in sight. The fact that she had come here was a testament to her willingness to talk to him without bitterness or blame. He was nervous about going back there, but the talk they would have wasn't going to be one for a neutral location. He finished cleaning out his office and locked the door. Finally, he saw a glimmer of hope in the situation.

              “Bear with me because I'm not sure I have the right words to explain this,” he told her, wetting his lips. “It started when I was twelve. Or at least, that's when I first became aware of it,” he continued. He kept his fingers busy, pulling at loose strands of fiber from the blanket they shared. She was quiet and listening as he nervously explained. “At some point, I stopped having control over my emotions the way normal people do. I can't express my feelings in words. They don't come. Extreme feelings have to be transferred physically, through actions.” He stopped, taking a moment to think.

             
She was listening, sitting beneath the soft throw, squeezing his hand as he struggled with the words as he continued. “ I don't enjoy it. Half of the time, I don't even remember it. It suppresses until the next time, when the images return, and I am forced to relive it.” He thought some more, choosing his words. “It's the anger and the frustration of the moment that fuels it, and I have no control.”

He heaved a heavy breath and she smiled warmly, encouraging him to keep going. “I try to contain it but the struggle seems to feed the desires and the urge to do it anyway. Not having control of impulses or emotions is a deadly combination.” She nodded in response, knowing exactly how deadly the combination had been.

              He was silent for several moments, obviously reflecting upon the things in his past, which now included her. It was awkward and painful for both of them but she knew this had to happen. She had to know.