Judas (27 page)

He changed the subject after that, deliberately lightening his tone a bit. “How are you doing, anyway?”

“I'm good. Going by the hour, here. But I'm good,” she told him.

“Mother giving you shit?”

“She wouldn't be your mother if she weren't.”

He sighed, “That must be hard on Dad.”

“I don't know. I don't see much of him unless it's meal time. He keeps to himself,” she said, trying to recall the last time she actually laid eyes on Phillip.

“He's lonely.”

“That's obvious,” she replied, thinking maybe she should try to seek him out before she left. At least he was still welcoming the few times she saw him. The staff rarely spoke, but Adessa knew it was due to Anita's orders, and not any ill will they felt toward her. She was treated more like a nuisance than a guest, and the family atmosphere was non-existent.

“It's too bad we can't stay there when I come home. It would be nice to have the old man around.”

“I agree. But we have our own home now. I'm moving in this weekend,” she told him with pride.

“Oh? Well that's good news. I suppose we will just have to invite him to dinner instead.”

She smiled at the thought. He almost sounded like Judas again. Maybe her words had helped him. “We have to get you out of there first,” she said mildly, but he had sobered in his reply.

“Tomorrow?”

She sighed, “No. When it's time.” Two steps backward. He was retreating again. Their conversations were generally like this though. He would be optimistic and eager one minute and the next, she felt like she was talking to a ten year old boy. One who was scared and unsure. She wasn't ready to call this progress.

“It's painful. And there's no escape.”

Her heart went out to him, but she couldn't allow him to falter. “That's the whole point.”

“I know. I just miss you.”

She smiled to herself, “I miss you too.”

             
They talked a few more minutes and he reluctantly told her he had to go, and promised to call again in another week. She sat there thinking of him. And then her thoughts went to Liam. She hadn't saw him again since that night, but her mind drifted to him often. He made no effort to get in touch with her but she felt that there were a lot of things unsaid between them.

She knew she would have to talk to him before Judas returned. Each time her thoughts were drawn to him, she felt the electric shock waves begin to radiate from her most intimate places. Her nipples stood erect, as if in search of the man she craved. The things he had
done to her body that night would be forever etched into her mind, and she knew that she would want him for the rest of her life.

             
She refused to think of how things would have been had Judas taken her the way Liam did. It wasn't loving and sensual, but instinctive and driven, and when it was over, he didn't hold her or offer pretty words. She was beginning to understand the difference between love and lust, and though she would never accept or forgive the relationship Judas had with Jaime, she did know now how he could separate the two. They were nothing alike. She was learning.

             
She slipped the bottle of whiskey from beneath the cushion and took a long, deep drink from the bottle. Maybe it was time she went to talk to Liam.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

A
daughter. Jaime couldn't stop looking at the ultrasound image. Two feet, two hands, it was all there. Their daughter was perfectly healthy and active inside her womb. She tried to imagine what the delivery would be like, and worried that something would go wrong. The doctor assured her that it was normal to have those fears and that every other pregnant woman went through the same thing, but Jaime had no one to share any of this with. She was excited and afraid all at once and she wished beyond wishes that Judas would have come back for her, but he hadn't. It was final.

             
She was already in her eighth month, but she maintained her slim figure the entire time, save for the rapidly growing bump that protruded well past her swollen feet. She was just getting past the eating everything in site stage and entering into the uncomfortable one, and all she could do now was wait. Her instinct told her to go and find Judas, but each time she considered it, she heard Adessa's harsh words ringing in her ears in warning.

He had a right to know about the baby, and she wanted so much to tell him, but she believed he was happy where he was and she knew it would be playing unfair to lure him back to her just because of the baby.

              She didn't want to be an obligation and she wasn't about to ruin whatever his life had become now. She was living with her choices and learning to fend for herself. There were times she wished she had taken the money, if only for the baby's sake, but she hadn't and when what was left of the money ran out, she hoped she would have earned her degree by then so she could finally live her dream. She thought back on the times they shared and she was immensely grateful that he had come into her life.

He was broken, but he was real and it didn't matter to her that their relationship was wrong in the eyes of the world. All she cared about was survival for herself, and happiness for him. It seemed like years now since she saw his face, and as the time wore on, even the image in her mind had begun to change. Sometimes late at night, she wondered if it had all been a dream, but her home and the gentle movements of their daughter reminded her that it was all real, and in a very short time, she would become a mother.

The thought of his child inside of her was heartwarming and made her feel close to him in ways she couldn't explain, but she was also afraid of the task ahead. She had no idea how to care for a baby and once she went to work, she had no one she could trust to help her. This must be what all single mothers went through. It was terrifying and surreal, but she wouldn't have changed it for anything.

She would do whatever was needed to be the best mother she could, but without having a mother of her own as an example, she knew she would have to rely on only herself to figure it all out. And she had no doubt that she would. Somehow. She needed a plan, and one that didn't include asking Judas Quinn for money. She smiled, feeling the baby's foot protrude beneath her rib and she gently rubbed the little foot as she continued to rock in the chair she had grown accustomed to sitting in, to daydream as she relaxed her aching feet.

“You need a name, little one,” she softly cooed, thinking that it was time to begin considering what their daughter would be called. “Amanda?” she asked, “How do you feel about being Amanda?” The baby gave a sharp kick, sending a pain through Jaime's belly and Jaime took it that her daughter was disagreeing with the moniker.

“Alright, what about Mia?” Another swift movement sent another flash of pain through the same area, and Jaime laughed as she rubbed the area. “Opinionated already, I see. What do you think about Emma?” Jaime waited and nothing. The baby had calmed and after several moments, she knew her daughter had accepted the name. “Emma it is!”

All she needed now was to decide whether Emma would bear her father's name. The name that she deserved. She wasn't sure what the laws were pertaining to such matters and she knew it would probably be complicated, given the fact that he was married. She just hoped there was a way around actually having to contact him.

She wanted to find out, but she had already resigned herself to the fact that it might not happen. Emma might have to be a Carter, but she was already willful and definitely her father's child.

              Liam opened the door, leaning against the frame as she clicked up the steps in her new black stilettos. She adjusted the matching miniskirt as she smiled up at him. The smell of whiskey was still on her breath, but she knew he wouldn't mind. It had given her courage, just like every other night she spent under the Quinn's roof. He folded his arms, with amusement glinting in his eyes, “It's about time.”

She grinned, “You expected me sooner?”

He chuckled openly now as he replied, “Maybe”

She shook her head. He hadn't changed. “You're arrogant,” she smirked.

“You enjoy it.”

He had her there. She enjoyed the very sound of his voice. The words would have been unimportant, had she not come for a purpose. “We need to talk”

“I don't like to talk,” he said, wiping the playfulness from his face.

“I know. You like to screw.”

“Smart woman,” he grunted.

She patted his cheek, giving a seductive wink. “Thank you. Now let me in.”

He strode straight to the kitchen, pulling out a fresh bottle of whiskey and offered her a drink. She accepted and he watched the smooth liquid disappear in a single gulp.

She took the bottle from his hand and refilled the heavy glass, making herself at home in his small, mess of a townhouse. “What's on your mind?”

She thought about the words, unable to recall exactly what it was she needed to say, and the sight of him standing there in a clinging t-shirt and faded jeans. She finally stammered, “I don't know. I feel horrible about what happened.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Then stop.”

“I can't.”

“No regrets,” he said smoothly, coming to stand in front of her.

She took a step backward, pushing against the counter top behind her as they stood in the tiny kitchen. “Maybe not for you,” she said trying to keep control.

He tilted his head, smirking in that sensual way he had. “You're not convincing me.”

“What do you mean?”

He immediately pressed his hand between her legs, raising the skin tight skirt she wore, revealing the absence of her panties. “You're prepared.”

She averted her gaze, not answering to the accusation and without warning, he lifted her up to the ledge and spread her thighs. He drew back his hand and landed a hard slap just below her mound, causing her to jerk against the sudden impact. This man would be her undoing. He hesitated only a second before smacking her again, harder this time as his crystal eyes captured her own.

She bit against the force as blow after blow came, each one delivering powerful, shattering bliss directly to her heated center. She began to moan, raking in ragged breaths as her hands cupped her breasts, kneading in earnest as she leaned against the wall, spreading her legs wider, giving him all the room he needed to continue as she writhed in ecstasy.

The entire area was swollen and red, numb, yet alive beneath the pain and the torture. She was panting now, nearly frantic in her need as he growled passionately, “Tell me you don't want this!” She moaned something inaudible, unable to form the words as he grasped her hair with his free hand, yanking her head backward. “Tell me!”

“I can't,” she rasped, feeling herself begin to unravel.

“Then cum!”

In that instant, she let go, meeting his harsh demand as his name spilled from her lips in betrayal of everything she had ever felt for her husband.

He released her hair, taking a step back as she heaved breathlessly, staring at him in wonder. He leaned against the refrigerator as he waited for her to recover. “I don't play games, Adessa,” he said evenly, once she was able to sit up and close her legs.

“I've gathered that.”

“Then from now on, when you come here, do us both a favor and shut up.”

             
She chewed on his words the entire way back to her new home. The man was dangerous for her and the thought thrilled her. She was certain that he meant what he said when he told her he wouldn't tell Judas, and Adessa started to feel confident that he was right. There was nothing to talk about, and Judas would never find out. He gave her what she needed, and that was enough for her. It wasn't about love, it was lust, and she was full of it.

“She's a distasteful wretch
,” Anita sneered, angrily jabbing at her food with the shiny silver fork. The witch had picked up and moved without a word and now Anita would have to rely on Phillip's help to keep up with the little snot.

He was the only one welcome in their new home, and she knew her presence there would be met with criticism. Phillip, however would be safe. Adessa trusted him, and Anita knew that he would do anything to protect their son. This was war.