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When he drapes me over the expensive sheets and covers me with the duvet, I sigh. It smells like him. So does the pillow. And I find that I’m strangely okay with that.
“You’re going to sleep too?” I murmur.
I think I see a hint of a smile on his lips as he shakes his head. “No, Mercedes. I’m going to watch over you. Get some rest now.”
With a nod, I close my eyes, and everything else fades away.
When the light of morning pours into the room, I realize that Judge let me sleep in. I know because he’s been waking me up when it’s still dark outside. But today, it’s the warmth of the sunlight on my skin that wakes me, and it feels good. I feel comfortable in Judge’s bed, and I can already tell my head is much better, though it still aches a little and probably will for a while.
As I try to sit up, I notice Judge is in the chair beside the bed, staring at his phone. And he looks pissed.
“Judge?” I force his name from my dry throat.
His eyes snap to mine, relief blotting out any other palpable emotions, but only for a moment.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
“Better,” I acknowledge, although I’m not sure that’s true. Because right now, the way he’s staring at me makes me feel like I should crawl under the covers and hide.
“Good,” he grunts. “That’s good.”
“Is… everything okay?” I ask reluctantly.
“No.” His eyes flash with irritation he’s struggling to contain. “It’s not okay, Mercedes. It seems you’ve made yet another mess for me to clean up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This.” He tosses a creased piece of paper from the nightstand onto the bed.
When I unfold it, dread curdles my stomach. It’s a missing person’s report… for me. Complete with a terrible photo, a description of my physical appearance, and a statement that I never showed up for a planned brunch, nor have I been seen or heard from.
“Oh, shit,” I whisper.
“Yeah,” Judge growls. “Oh, shit.”
“It’s not what you—”
“I’ve been going through your phone.” He tosses that onto the bed too, and when I glance at it, I can see he’s been scrolling through my messages with Georgie.
I swallow, and my head spins as fear takes an ugly hold on me. He said he has to clean up the mess I’ve made. Clearly, it was Solana and Georgie who reported me missing. Nobody within The Society would think twice about it. My two worlds are colliding, and I know this won’t be good. But what I don’t know is what will happen with my friends if Judge manages to track them down. If he hasn’t already.
Oh, God. That’s a horrific thought.
I look up at him, trying to find the words to plead my case, but he doesn’t give me the chance.
“I just have two questions for you, Mercedes.” He lowers his voice to a deadly calm that terrifies me more than his rage. “Who the fuck is Georgie, and are you fucking pregnant?”
13
Judge
“Pregnant?” Mercedes asks, half sitting up, wincing as she does. She closes her eyes and takes a moment. I watch her, gripping the edges of my chair so tight my fingernails make crescent shapes in the leather. I’m so angry. So fucking angry.
“Yes, pregnant. It would explain the vomiting.”
“Vomiting? I was… Christ, Judge. Miriam threw a fucking paperweight at my head and gave me a fucking concussion. That’s the vomiting.”
“Miriam threw a paperweight at your head? Why are you lying?”
