Fifty-One
Judge’s [POV]
I meant what I said. I will watch over her. Always.
She exhales and settles into sleep once she hears me.
Another week has passed like this. The doctor took the IV out this morning and we’re slowly easing her off the sedatives which he prescribed to help her sleep and get the rest she needs to heal. The damage my brother did was more mental than physical. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.
Lois and I have woken her to eat what little she’ll eat. Mostly a few spoonfuls of soup. During the day she sleeps more peacefully than she does at night. We leave the curtains open, and let the light in. It seems to calm her. Reassure her.
At night, though, it’s different. Like the darkness settles inside her. I wonder what hell traps her in the dreams that come during the small hours when she lashes out to fight invisible beasts.
During the day I sit in the chair beside the bed and watch over her. I work a little, although I can’t concentrate on anything but her. At every sound, no matter how slight, she draws all my attention.
As dark descends now, I wait for the cycle to begin anew. To watch as she becomes restless, lines etching the smooth skin of her forehead, her hands clenching and unclenching to fight off her demons.
Demons. She has several. Her father was the first. I wonder if Santiago is one for the fact that he gave her to me. Cast her out of his home. Out of his life.
And when she came to be in my keeping, I became the third demon to torment her. My desire became her undoing. My selfish want of her.
And there is now a fourth. My brother.
How safe have I kept her in my home? Not at all. First Miriam. And what did I do but call Mercedes a liar and punish her? Then my brother. And throughout it all, me. From the very beginning, the very first night she arrived. How safe has she been from me?
I go into the bathroom to wash my face. I look like a wreck. My cheeks have hollowed out. The skin around my eyes is shadowed. The bruise along my jaw is nearly gone, and the cut on my cheekbone that required stitches will leave a mark. Not that I care. Mercedes took the brunt of his rage, although, thankfully, her injuries weren’t as bad as I expected. He could have done worse. He held back. Which is the one thing that may save his life.
That’s not true though. It’s not the one thing. There’s a reason my grandfather paid him off. If the truth had come out that Theron wasn’t of Montgomery’s blood, it would have shamed the old man. Tainted the family name. Theron knew how important this was to our grandfather and used that fact against him. Because being a Sovereign Son, he is protected by IVI’s laws. To murder Theron would have meant a death sentence to my grandfather. It will mean one to me.
But it doesn’t excuse what he did. He will pay.
Mercedes makes a sound and I hurry back into the bedroom. I strip down to my briefs and put on the folded pair of pajama pants Lois left on the foot of the bed, then lift the blanket to climb in beside her.
“No!” she starts. It’s always the same.
“Shh. You’re safe, Mercedes. It’s me. It’s Judge.”
With an effort, she opens her eyes to peer at me but then closes them again.
I settle in beside her and the bed dips. Her body curls into mine. I cover both of us with the blanket and wrap an arm around her.
She pushes against my chest momentarily. When I don’t budge, her fingernails dig in. Although Lois cut them down when she saw my chest so she can’t do as much damage.
“You can turn me a black and blue, little monster, but I won’t leave you,” I whisper against her ear, then kiss her temple. “Sleep now. You’re safe.”
She mutters something and then settles down. An owl hoots outside. I hold on to her. My eyelids feel heavy but I fight to keep them open because if I sleep, I’ll have my nightmare. I’ll relive that night, going over it again and again to understand something I can’t understand.
Light pours into the room. I wake to the clicking of a door and the smell of coffee. When I open my eyes, I see the steaming mug Lois must have just left.
I slept. A full night according to the clock which tells me it’s a little after nine in the morning.
Mercedes is curled into me, dark hair fanned out over my chest, her chin against my shoulder. One hand is laid flat over my heart. I hold my breath for a moment when I see that. It’s the same every morning. And so is my reaction to it.
My arm is beneath her neck and she’s so warm and soft tucked into me like she is that I don’t want to move.
But I need to get out of bed and dressed before she wakes up. I don’t want her to startle to find me beside her half-naked. The memory of what happened between us before the incident is still very clearly etched into my brain and even given what’s come to pass, I need to take care that we don’t slip back into that other impossible situation.
I slide my arm out from under her and slip out of the bed. I wash my face then brush my teeth. I need to shave, too, but those things are still in my bathroom. When I return to the bedroom, I’m surprised to see Mercedes awake and trying to sit up.
We both freeze for a moment, staring at each other. Her gaze moves over me, taking in my naked torso, and the pajama pants. My bare feet. By the time she meets my eyes again, she’s steeled herself and I can’t read her.
“What are you doing in here?” she asks, her voice hoarse from not having spoken for so long.
“Let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“You do.” I go to her and adjust the pillows. I’m careful not to touch her and grit my teeth when she winces, hissing through her teeth as she sits up against them. She looks at her arm, the bandage on the back of her hand where the IV was connected. There’s a tiny bruise where the needle had gone in.
“Where are my pills?” she asks, glancing at the empty nightstand.
“After breakfast,” I tell her. It’s aspirin, just a low dose of aspirin.
“I need them.”
“After breakfast, Mercedes.” I walk toward the chair where my clothes from yesterday have been folded. I pull on my sweater.
“I need the pills. It hurts.”
“You’ll get them after breakfast. The doctor said it’s time to wean you off.”
Her forehead furrows. “It’s just a week ago.”
I shake my head. “Two weeks and a day now.”
“Two weeks?”
I nod.
She looks upset by this. Upset and confused.
“Theron is gone. He won’t hurt you again.”
At the mention of his name her eyes fill up and she clenches the sheet, shifting beneath it. How much does she remember? How much of what he did do to her? Of what I did to him.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.
“Where’s Lois?” she asks and I’m relieved.
“Would you like me to go get her?”
She nods and looks away from me like she can’t quite hold my gaze.
I bow my head and walk out of the room to find Lois just coming up the stairs. “She wants you.”
Lois stops when she sees my face but doesn’t say anything. I wait by the door as Lois enters.
“Sweetheart,” Lois sits on the edge of the bed and brushes Mercedes’s hair from her face. Mercedes is comforted by her, and I wonder about the affection she’s had in her life. None from her father, that I know. Was her mother affectionate? I know Antonia is a kind, sweet woman. But I also know Mercedes is fairly stand-offish with her. “How are you feeling?”
She shrugs a shoulder. “I need to use the bathroom,” she says in a low voice.
Lois nods and looks at me. I hurry back into the room to carry her, but Mercedes’s eyes widen in panic, and I stop.
“It’s okay,” Lois says. “I can’t carry you. The judge needs to do that, okay?”
“Then I can walk.”
“You can’t. Not on your own,” I say and go toward the bed although at a slower pace.
She pushes the covers off and tries to swing her legs over the edge as if to show she can, but she very clearly cannot.
“I won’t hurt you,” I say and lift her before she can refuse. She has no choice but to hold me and once we’re in the bathroom I let Lois help her and step out. A few minutes later, the door opens, and I carry Mercedes back to the bed. She keeps her face averted.
“I’ll get your breakfast. Give me just a few minutes.” Lois says.
Mercedes turns her untrusting gaze to me, then nods to Lois. Once Lois is gone, Mercedes looks at my discarded pajamas and then at me.
“Did you touch me?”
I’m surprised by the cold tone of her voice. The question itself. Truly taken aback. “No. Of course not. Mercedes, I would never-”
“Well, lucky me that one of the Montgomery brothers has found his moral compass.”
I swallow that down. I deserve it and more.
“Did he?” she grits her teeth, eyes wet as she forces herself to hold my gaze. “Did he? I can’t… remember everything.”
“No.” The doctor confirmed he hadn’t sexually assaulted her.
She nods, pulls her knees up, and looks down. I hear the relief in her shuddering exhale of breath. She wipes her eyes.
Lois is back then. She’s holding a tray loaded with so much food I don’t know how she carried it. It’s all of Mercedes’s favorites.
“Here we are. I brought a little of everything, so you just choose what you like.”
“My pills?” Mercedes asks, looking over the tray.
“I’ll bring them to you after you eat something.”
Lois hands her a cup of tea with honey. Mercedes takes it and sips.
“I’ll come back after my shower,” I say, and walk to the door when Mercedes doesn’t ask me to stay. I’m almost in the hallway when she calls out my name. I stop, turn, and wait.
“Where is he?” she finally asks after a long minute.
“Gone.”
I don’t say that I’m not sure where because when I went back to that wretched room after making sure Mercedes was going to be alright, Theron was gone. All that was left was the bloody spot where his head had been. His car was gone, too. I can’t say what he took as far as clothes or money because I hadn’t been inside the South Cottage since I gave it to him, and I have no idea how he drove himself or if he did, but he hasn’t been seen or heard from and Ezra Moore, the investigator I hired to find him, has found nothing.
“You never have to see him again, Mercedes.”
She nods, and turns her attention to the steaming cup in her hands.