I make quick work of pulling on some clothes, then hurry through my bathroom business before quietly walking the same path Jude did moments ago. The house is still dark for the most part. Sunlight is barely lifting from the horizon, and I’m really freaking glad that Jude leaves a small lamp illuminated on the other end of the house. My feet stop at the room Rory’s in. The door is open, and she’s sound asleep. The pills I left on the nightstand are gone, as well as half the bottle of water. Rory must have woken up at some point. My heart aches for her. She’s so young, been through way too much for a girl her age, and who knows how long they’ve had to live like this.
Once I’m assured Rory won’t be waking up anytime soon, I continue my path to where I heard Jude exit the back of the house. The smell of coffee hits my senses, and I realize that I must have taken longer to get to him than I thought. I’m at a war with myself—stop to make a cup or go right to Jude.
My question is answered when I see two mugs sitting next to the pot. It must not have finished percolating by the time he needed to have his morning smoke. I go through the process of pouring two cups, doctoring Jude’s up with a heavy spoonful of sugar while forgoing sugar in mine but using a heaping amount of hazelnut creamer, then walk out to my man with both mugs steaming hot.
“Thanks,” I say when the door opens. Jude probably heard me clanking around inside and realized the conundrum I’d put myself in of having to make two trips.
“Didn’t mean to wake you up, Foxy.” He nods, dropping a kiss to my lips, and while it’s not long or deep, it still has the power to make my toes curl.
“You didn’t.” Jude takes a drag of his cigarette and cocks his head to the side, attempting to flesh out my fib. I hold his gaze until he finally must think better of digging deeper over something as silly as him waking me up. I take the first sip of my coffee, savoring the taste. Jude does the same, and we move to the outdoor couch he has set up beneath the covered part of the patio.
“I figure now is as good as time as any to talk to you. Let you make your decision and go from there before things get messy, or messier.” His voice is rugged with a raw edge to it. I stay quiet, allowing him the time to get his thoughts together. “Are you okay with us having this talk?” he asks.
“Jude, I’m here for you whenever and whatever. I’m not going anywhere.” His need to protect the people he cares about could also mean he’d potentially push me away, and I’m not having any of that.”
“Here goes nothing.” He takes another inhale of hiscigarette and then a sip of his coffee before setting both down on the glass tabletop, the mug on a fabric coaster and the cigarette in an ashtray. “Fuck, where do I start? Probably the day my mom took off and Dad decided he’d take it out on me.” He takes a deep breath. “At the age of eight. It didn’t matter what I did, if I looked at him, if I questioned him, if I wasn’t at home when he made a sudden appearance, I’d meet the end of his belt. That’s how it started, lashes on the backs of my legs and back, and he didn’t give a single fuck where the buckle landed, either. I can still hear the hiss of the air at times. Part of the reason I’ve woken up a few times is because of a memory. This morning wasn’t much different, but instead of it being me being the one beaten, it was Rory. Shit tore me the fuck up.” My hand goes to his thigh to hold a piece of him. His gaze has drifted off, looking at one spot in particular. What that spot is, I have no fucking idea.
“Tysen’s parents, the guys, and even their parents tried to intervene. That made it worse. Dad just got more strategic, making sure the bruises wouldn’t be visible since he slipped before. This went on for a while. Then one day, I had a growth spurt, became as big as him, and shit came to a screeching halt. I fought back, got licks of my own in, though he still got in more on me. The next morning, I came to, dear old dad was gone, and I was worse for the wear. He never came back. I moved in with Tys, tried to move on, get back what I could of my youth.” Jude reaches for the cigarette, taking a long and healthy drag before exhaling only to finish that one off, and that’s when I notice the slight tremor in his hand.
“Jeffrey Ellison is the reason I don’t drink alcohol ortouch drugs. He was bearable when sober. Drunk or high, it was a million times worse. The stuff nightmares are made of. The only vices I have are these things”—he grabs the pack of smokes—“an unhealthy amount of candy, andyou.” He sends me a wolfish smile.
“Well, I’d like to think those aren’t too bad, especially the me part,” I tease, trying to break the heaviness. Jude brings the back of my hand to his lips and presses a kiss there.
“Life got better. Went to college, kept tabs on him when I could, but back then, I didn’t know jack shit. Fast forward some years, and I had time, knowledge, and money. I ran his name through a database daily. Rory, at eleven years old, lit up my screen with more details than anyone needs online. It took me a bit. Pulled in the guys, figured out a way to be a part of her life while keeping them safe, and that’s about the gist of it. Bobbi put a restraining and protective order in place, but they failed her multiple times. That’s why Rory ran to me. And now her life has been turned upside down. I’m still battling and coming to terms with the reason why Rory wouldn’t have given me some kind of sign he was back.” Jude sits back, and I’ve got just enough time to put my cup of coffee down beside his before I’m settled on his lap. My hand goes to his heart, and my head tilts upward, never wanting to lose a moment of our time together.
“Whatever reason it is, Rory will tell you when she’s ready.” She is going to need help every step of the way, there’s no doubt about it.
“Which leads me to my next problem. I laid this at your feet, leaned on you a hell of a lot after a short amount of time. And I don’t want to give you up. I want you to knowthis with my whole fucking heart, Foxy. I’d fight my darkest demons to keep you. But that’s not fair to ask of you.” His chocolate-brown eyes are tinged with red, a sign he’s been battling this all night, meaning Jude hasn’t slept a freaking wink.
“The reason I’m afraid of needles is because my mom had a habit of her own. I walked into the bathroom one day, and a needle was sticking out of a blown vein. She told me I had to help her. When I did, blood came oozing out, and it didn’t end there. She was a crystal meth addict by choice, mother by chance, and at the age of six, she’d make me hide in the dark. Kitchen cabinets, closets, any space she could fit me, for hours, especially when her dealer came. Dad worked the bar, Zane lived with his mom most of the time, and neither of them had any idea until she was too far gone, Dad more than my brother.” I sit up, straddle his waist, and cup his cheeks. “You told me your past. It was only fair I told you mine. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be by your side, in your corner, and your strength. There’s also a sixteen-year-old girl inside your house who I’m not leaving, either. One doesn’t come without the other.” Last night, Jude laid his heart on the line. No words were spoken. It was in his action, the way he held me, the way he watched me, and the way he really looked at me.
“Jesus, Foxy, the best damn thing I ever did in my life was talk shit to you while playing video games.” I laugh, remembering the night vividly. I wanted to punch the cocky arrogance off what I was sure had to be his smug face.
“Yeah, well, you’re easy to love, Jude Ellison.” The words come effortlessly.
“And you, Veronica Navarro, my Foxy, are the love of my life. I love you.” His mouth crashes into mine, and he tastes me like never before. I don’t get the chance to return his words that have my stomach swirling with happiness.
“I love you, too, Jude.” I’m able to pull back for the slightest of moments, declaring my words of adoration, before we’re back to our kiss. It turns from soft and sweet to hot and heavy in the blink of an eye. My nipples pucker when Jude’s hands roam up the sides of my thighs, gripping my hips, and holding me in place.
“Incoming,” he murmurs against my mouth. His hands settle on my hips and peel me away. The fog fades away when I put two and two together as I hear the door open.
“’Mornin’, Roar girl,” he says, welcoming Rory.
“Good morning. And I do not roar like a lion. Will that ever go away?” she says, settling between the two of us. She sprawls out and settles her head on my lap and the rest of her body on Jude’s.
“Hey, Ronnie.” She looks up, covering her mouth with a yawn.
“Hey, sweetheart.” I don’t say anything else. Instead, I run my fingers through her hair.
“You’ll always be Roar girl to me. Between your morning breath and bed head, sorry, but you’re stuck with it forever.” Jude helps keep the morning light. We continue lightly bantering until he deems it time for breakfast and he’ll be cooking for his girls.
23
JUDE
“Where are the girls?” Tysen asks by way of greeting me when he and Matthew walk through the door. Our group has been dropping in here and there, making sure we have everything we need and then some the past few days. It’s been tough. No, fuck that. It’s been downright fucking hard. Rory is stuck to Ronnie like glue. Where she goes, my sister follows, and my Foxy, she just goes with the flow. We’re in the process of setting Rory up with a therapist, maybe even a psychiatrist, too. The girl is going to be sifting through a lot, and even I don’t know the full extent of the trauma Jeffrey Ellison created for them.
“Hey, Tys, Matthew,” I reply instead of giving Tysen the answer he wants right away. I’m sure it has a shit ton to do with the case being built and all the other shit we’ve been wading through.
