Fallen from Grace (2 page)

He shook his head as he tried to gain his bearings, but his thoughts were like bald tires on ice. She wasn’t the typical girl you’d find in a Boston bar playing darts and drinking beer.

“Are you saying I need a little catnip to liven me up?” he asked, finally gaining some traction.

“I might have something that can help,” she replied with a secret smile.

Judas had been playing along with her cat joke, but he suspected she was talking about something with a little more bite. He watched as she took a drink of champagne, then glanced around.

“My mother sure knows how to bore people to death. She’s the one who planned this event.” She looked at him. “There’s too much pink for my taste.”

Until then, Judas hadn’t even noticed how much the color dominated the room; pink flowers, pink napkins, pink tablecloths and pink banners hung above the stage.

“I think the proceeds of the night go towards Breast Cancer Awareness,” Judas said as he narrowed his eyes at her.

“I know, but that doesn’t make me like the color any better,” she whined.

“Right.”

Judas was trying to think of a polite reason to leave when he heard his father’s voice.

“Hello, Judas.”

Jack stood next to him wearing a tuxedo and an arrogant grin. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Judas’s gaze shifted to the woman whose name he’d failed to obtain. She looked at Jack and held out her hand. “I’m Alexandre Martin, but you can call me Alex.”

Jack lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Jack Woods.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” she said, blushing and reluctantly lowering her hand when he let go. She turned to Judas. “A few of us are leaving as soon as my father delivers his speech. I’m throwing the after party. You’re more than welcome to join us, Judas.”

Yeah, when hell freezes over.

She winked at him before sauntering away. Judas looked at his father who was grinning mischievously.

“What?” Judas asked.

“I thought this might be difficult, but you just made it very, very easy.”

Judas’s gaze narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Jack shifted so that he towered over Judas in all authority. “I want you to go to the Ivy with Alexandre and her friends, and I want you to bring me back something that documents her lifestyle.”

“What lifestyle?” Judas stared at his father, genuinely confused until it hit him. “You mean drugs.” She’d already hinted she had something more potent than catnip.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Her father is a judge, and he’s had me in a vice. I need some leverage. It’s not as if I’m asking for your virtue. Besides, I know you’re not a virgin.”

“No, but I’m not a crook, and that’s extortion, punishable by five to seven years.”

“Not if you don’t get caught. Look, pretty girls like her will eat up your bad boy appeal, so fuck her if you have to,” his father spat bitterly, “but get me my evidence.”

“I won’t do it.”

“You owe me this.”

Judas glanced away as the familiar tightening in his chest constricted like a fist squeezing his heart. He knew why Jack was demanding this horrible act from him. It was the same ploy he’d used six years ago to get him to go to law school. The guilt of his mother’s death came crumbling down on him like an avalanche.

“If you don’t you will never practice law in this country. I’m very powerful, Judas, and I know a lot of people. I’ll disinherit you, and you’ll be broke. You’ll have nothing. Do this for me and I’ll make your career. A career people can only dream to have.”

Judas was speechless as Jack clinked their glasses together and walked away. Alex met his gaze from across the room, and his heart sank as he realized he had no choice.

His father held the cards to his future. This would be his consequence for what had happened during his junior year of high school; his penance to Jack, God and his mother. But he knew nothing would ever rid the pain in his heart because it would never bring her back.

Alex didn’t say anything when he eventually walked over to her. She just smiled because she’d just landed the hottest new lay, and confidently rolled her hips as she left the event with him on her arm. Judas glanced over his shoulder at his father just before they exited through the doors. Jack dipped his head with an approving nod that condemned Judas. At twenty-four years of age, he’d just signed a deal with the devil.

The hours that followed were the worst of Judas’s life. He rode in her limo to an exclusive bar where she proceeded to get intoxicated and high, and dance on the laps of every stranger in the room. The party continued to some random, socialite’s house where drugs were strung out on tables, and naked people were swimming in a pool. Judas didn’t even need to take a picture of Alex for evidence; everyone was documenting the illegal activities.

Judas watched as one of the drunk girls put her phone away after taking a photo of Alex on a guy’s lap; the short skirt she’d changed into was bunched up around her waist, and her thong was exposed. That wasn’t even the worst part; she had white powder on her nose, a joint in one hand, and bottle of liquor in the other as her tongue hung from her rock star expression.

Slipping the phone from the girl’s purse, he forwarded the picture to himself, then deleted it and the message. He showed the picture to Jack the next day, who grinned and said, “Good boy,” like Judas was his obedient dog.

Then he issued two rules.

“You must never meet their fathers. Leave it to me to keep them quiet. I can’t have them finding my source because you messed everything up. And no dating these girls. It’s too risky.”

Coming back to the present, he stared at his hands. He’d bent rule number two...a few times. After he’d heard Alex was sent to rehab, he contacted her once she returned to the city. She was better, but still tempted to use again. He felt that if he could help her, maybe what he’d done wouldn’t be so bad. He knew it was risky; if her father ever discovered Judas’s association with her, he would get caught, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Lucky for him, she rarely spoke with her father and never found out the real reason she was sent to rehab. She blamed it on a stash she had in their family home, which her mother supposedly discovered.

In a weird way, it had all worked out for the best. Judas acted as her sponsor, and eventually she’d went back to school and met a great guy. It had been years since he talked to her, but a few weeks ago he’d received an invitation to her wedding.

All his father’s marks were the same, they weren’t interested in current events or politics. The city was pushing eight and a half million people, and so far Judas had been lucky the women hadn’t found out who he really was. The majority of them all had drug problems, or a secret they didn’t want anyone to discover, and it was Judas’s job to learn what it was, so Jack could use it against his target. Judas couldn’t help them all, and sometimes he felt as though they were just asking for what Jack was forcing him to do. When he’d reached that low, he’d gotten the Virgin Mary tattoo, and he’d since gained a dozen others. He’d do the best he could with the life God gave him until he could be rid of Jack, which he was certain would only be in death.

During the day, he worked as a lawyer, but Jack didn’t want him distracted, so Judas was only assigned sure wins. To date, he was undefeated.

Rebecca was his longest mark, and he’d come to sympathize with her more than the others. Her father never phoned; nor did her mother or sister. Judas was fairly certain they’d paid her to keep her distance, and her drug use a secret.

“Judas?” Rebecca called.

“Hmmm?” Judas murmured, absently staring at her, then he remembered what she’d asked. “Do you really care?” he asked. He was annoyed, but not at her. He didn’t like what he was doing to her.
What have I become?
She didn’t deserve this.

She rolled onto her side, facing him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” she uttered, pulling the sheet up to her chin.

She was like a broken china doll, and Judas was fighting the urge not to glue her pieces back together. It wasn’t his place to fix her; she was a mark, nothing else, but he couldn’t shake the fact she were a lot like him—sad, alone, and longing for acceptance from her family.

He needed to get dirt on her and get the hell out. It had been nearly a week, and he’d had more than enough opportunity. The only reason he’d stayed the night was because Rebecca had begged him, sobbing because she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Out of sheer exhaustion, and another sympathetic lapse, he’d caved.

Jack was going to be furious. Getting your clients a short sentence was done by who you knew, so connections were key. It was a buddy system and complete bullshit.

“I’m late for court,” he said, standing and walking to the chair in the corner. His suit was draped over the back; he wasn’t going to have time to go to his penthouse apartment, shower or shave.

“Will I see you later?” Rebecca asked in a low, apprehensive tone.

He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

This wasn’t the life he was supposed to be living. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be, and he knew his mother would be disappointed.

Margaret Anne Woods or as her close friends called her, Maggie, was the sweetest, most innocent woman Judas had ever known. His parents had married young, and Judas was born during their first year of marriage. How his mother was
ever
attracted to Jack, defied the laws of attraction.
Or did it solidify them?
Opposites supposedly attracted, and they were two people that couldn’t have been more opposite.

Jack Woods lived by his pocket book and crooked tactics, and Maggie had lived by her Bible and firm faith in God. She’d had high hopes for Judas, and had always said he was destined to live a brilliant life.

But she’d been wrong.

A
RRIVING
AT
THE
COURTHOUSE
THIRTY
-
MINUTES
late, Judas pulled his e-brake and drifted to the curb. Tires squealed, and attention whipped from pedestrians toward his blacked out BMW as he parked and took the concrete stairs leading to the building two at a time.

He jogged beneath the stone pillars and slid past the people coming through the doors, before taking a breath and sweeping his hand through his hair and straightening his suit. He didn’t care if the car out front were towed.
Good riddance.