Fallen from Grace (4 page)

Hailing a taxi, he mumbled his address and threw the driver a fifty at the end of the short ten minute drive to his apartment. Walking inside, he drank a glass of water as he walked into his bedroom, stripped down to his boxer and collapsed on his bed. His conscious was heavy. All the things he had done were catching up with him. There was no way out; no light at the end of the tunnel.

This was his life, and until Jack was through with him, he’d have to live by the grace of God, pray to his mother for forgiveness, and wait until he could be free.

H
IS
MOTHER
’
S
ANGELIC
FACE
AND
long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders in waves; she was beautiful. Even at the tender age of five, Judas knew there weren’t many people in the world like her. Her heart was pure and good, and her love for God and her family amazed him.

She was chasing him through a meadow, and she laughed as a dog barked and nipped at the bottom of her brown boots. Her long white dress blew in the wind, and the warm sun hit her face and highlighted the red tints in her hair.

“Don’t let him go too far, Judas,” his mom yelled as the dog took off into the tall brush. “Get him!” She laughed.

“Oh no!” his mom screamed as the dog broke through the weeds that towered over Judas and knocked him to the ground, then turned and ran away again. His mom was suddenly next to him, picking him up and dusting off his clothes. He could hear water splashing in the distance, and she looked at him and smiled.

“Let’s see what that puppy is up to now.”

Her hand curled around his, and she led him through the brush. On the other side was a meadow and a small pond. Ducks were floating, and the dog was barking as he tried to swim out to them, but the ducks swam further away. His head dipped below the surface several time before he finally turned around and swam back to shore. He shook the water from his brown fur, then looked at the ducks and continued barking.

His mother whistled. “Come here, Curtis.” She crouched next to Judas, and they watched the ducks swim to the middle of the pond. She looked at him. “That puppy of yours just doesn’t know when he’s been outsmarted.”

Judas opened his eyes and rubbed them as the dream of his mother’s whistle became the reality of a message on his phone. He pulled it from his pocket; Rebecca had called several times and had texted even more. He checked the time and realized he’d slept over eight hours—it was already nine o’clock.

Pinching the headache pounding between his eyes, he swiped his thumb across the screen, then put the phone up to his ear. Rebecca answered on the second ring.

“Judas, hi. Sorry I’ve called you so many times,” she said in a low, distressed tone. “And texted.”

“What do you want, Rebecca?” he snapped, immediately feeling bad. When she didn’t respond right away, he sat up and rubbed his face. “I’m sorry, I was sleeping. What’s going on? Are you alright?”

“I’m at a restaurant. My f-friend,” she stammered, “stood me up, and I was hoping you would come eat with me.”

He could hear the distress in her voice and wondered who it was she had been meeting. Once again, he wanted to comfort her. “What restaurant are you at, Rebecca?” He kept saying her name to remind himself who he was talking to—a mark. Someone he wasn’t supposed to get involved with.

“I’m at Keens Steakhouse, on 36
th
street.”

“I know where it’s at. Sit tight, I’ll be there soon.”

After a quick shower, he dressed in a pair of dark denim jeans, white t-shirt and boots. He pulled on a leather jacket, then went down to the parking garage and climbed on his S 1000 R—his bad ass bike parked next to his black, two door Maserati. He could count on one hand how many times he’d even driven the car. Judas revved the bike to life, and it purred inside the cold concrete garage. Pulling his helmet over his head, he peeled out of the compact parking spot and headed downtown.

Killing his bike outside the restaurant, a pair of long legs grabbed his attention. He tugged the helmet off his head and swept his hair back as his gaze deviated to a pair of red stilettos, and a high-waisted black pencil skirt paired with a white silk blouse. There was something about the woman that seemed...
familiar
. His heart raced, and his stomach knotted with anticipation. He wanted to see her face; the need was so profound, so arduous, and he found himself silently
willing
her to turn around.
Look at me.
He watched her auburn curls bounce as she laughed and walked into the restaurant. Disappointment roared inside him as she disappeared.

Walking inside, he stopped next to a counter where a young man wearing a uniform was talking on a phone. Judas glanced at the bar area behind him, hoping to see
her.
He turned when the host cleared his throat.

“Good evening, sir. How may I help you?”

“I’m meeting Miss Meyers,” Judas replied, glancing inside the restaurant ahead.
She
wasn’t anywhere in sight.

The host looked at a computer screen, and smiled when he found the reservation. “May I take your jacket?”

Judas shook his head. “No, I’ll hang onto it but you can take my helmet.”

“Of course, sir.” He looked pleased to be of service and deposited it out of view. “Right this way.” He led him to Rebecca’s table, and Judas slid his hands into his jacket pockets as his gaze bounced back and forth, but he didn’t see
her
.

When he saw Rebecca, he forced a smile. “Thank you,” he said to the host, who nodded and made his way back to the front of the restaurant.

“Hi, Judas.” Rebecca nervously tucked her short hair behind her ears. “Thank you for coming.”

She looked distraught as if she’d been crying. “Who am I to pass up dinner with a beautiful woman?” He shrugged out of his jacket and slipped it over the back of his chair. His comment earned him a smile, but it was fleeting. She glanced around and he caught her staring at a pretty woman. “Have you ordered anything to eat?” he asked, taking a seat.

She looked across the table at him, then shook her head. “No.”

“How long have you been here?”

She shrugged. “A while.”

She took a sip of clear liquid, and he worried it was straight vodka. The thought of alcohol made him painfully aware it had been the only thing he’d ingested all day.

A young woman wearing a white and black uniform similar to the hosts came up to their table. “Can I get you anything to drink, sir?” Her blasé expression thawed when she locked eyes with Judas. She stood up straight, then pressed her lips together and brought her pen to her mouth. Her hair was short, cut just below her ears, and black.

“I’d like a water.” He looked at Rebecca, “Do you know what you’d like to eat?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re ordering,” she murmured.

Judas had yet to look at the menu, but the restaurants reputation was known amongst the city’s finest. In fact, just this past week he’d heard a few judges raving about it, and judges were known to like a good steak.

“We’ll take an order of oysters, two caesar salads, and two porterhouses cooked medium with sautéed mushrooms and asparagus as a side.” He glanced up, and the server’s blue eyes glazed over.

She gathered their menus, then left. He rested his arms on the edge of the table and glanced at Rebecca. “Who was it that stood you up?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay. What would you
like
to talk about?” he asked, gazing about the room.
Where did she go?
The woman hadn’t wandered too far from his thoughts, and he desperately wanted to see her face.

“I want to know why you’re with me,” Rebecca blurted.

Judas looked at her. “I’m
not
with you. We aren’t dating.”

“I k-know,” she stammered. “But why do you even talk to me?”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “That is a rather odd question. What prompted it?”

She shrugged. “I’m a fuck up. A college dropout who gets drunk and does drugs every night. I tear my clothes off, begging you to have sex with me and to stay the night. I don’t understand why you’re still talking to me.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but was silenced by the server bringing his water.
That had to be record timing for drink delivery.
When she was gone, he replied, “You’re not a fuck up, Rebecca. You’re twenty-two, and you have a long life ahead of you. We all make mistakes. I happen to think you’re better than this.” He hoped his statement would bring her out of whatever reverie weighing down her thoughts, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Her eyes swelled with moisture, and she sniffled. A tear streamed down her cheek, and she wiped it away with her white napkin. “You’re gorgeous, Judas.” Her head wagged back and forth. “Hands down the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, let alone been friends with. Hell, our waitress nearly wet herself when she saw you.”

“Stop, Rebecca. This has nothing to do with me, and you know it. Who were you supposed to meet tonight?” His question brought an onslaught of tears.

The oysters and salads arrived at the same time. The server glanced nervously at Rebecca before placing the food on the table. Judas gave the ambitious server an approving nod before turning his attention back to Rebecca. “You need to eat something. Do you like oysters?”

She nodded, and reluctantly took one off the white platter. After eating a few of the oysters, and taking several bites of her salad, her mood was noticeably lightened, and so was Judas’; having food in his stomach felt amazing. He moved his empty salad plate to the edge of the table.

“Talk to me,” he urged.

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Judas was about to push her further, but he caught a pair of red stilettos out of the corner of his eye. His gaze whipped to a table in the far corner;
she
was sitting there. He couldn’t see who she was with, but he was finally granted a glimpse of her face.

She was stunning.

Her lips were full, sublimely placed below a slender nose, almond shaped eyes and softly angled eyebrows.
What color are her eyes?
He wanted to know. He wanted to stand up, close the distance between them, and commit the color to memory. Then he wanted to pluck
her out of her chair and discover how those perfect pink lips would feel pressed against his. Something hit his leg beneath the table, and pain shot through his body.

“Judas!” Rebecca practically shouted.

He wasn’t fazed as he rubbed his leg because it brought
her
attention to him. She stopped talking and her gaze locked with his, causing his heartbeat to quicken, and his mouth to go dry. His stomach performed an odd flip as if he were airborne and floating weightlessly before gravity pulled him back to earth; back to reality.

He watched as
she
tucked an auburn curl behind her ear and began speaking to someone across the table. The mystery person was blocked by a group of people, and he could only hope it wasn’t her husband.
Please, don’t be married.
He shook his head.
What was wrong with him?