Page 85 of Judge's Mercy

I kick my boots back off and storm into my room, collapsing on my bed. I’m bone-deep exhausted and maybe some sleep will bring me clarity on what to do. Sleep doesn’t come, though. Instead, I lie awake, scared that this is the end of the best thing to ever happen to me. How could I ruin it so quickly?

CHAPTER THIRTY

MYLA

“You sure you want me to leave you? Lucky said he’d sleep on the couch, and I can stay in here with you.” Tinleigh tucks me in like I’m a baby while Ryder swats at her hand, scratching her all to hell. “Ow! I hate to break it to you, but your cat is demonic.”

That makes me smile. “He’s just protective.”

She peels his claws from her hands and takes a step back, which seems to satisfy Ryder because now that she’s out of arm’s reach, he snuggles right up to my neck and purrs. God, I love this cat. My heart swells, only to sink right back down thinking of who gave me the kitten.

“You say protective, I say demonic. Last night, he sunk those murder mittens into Lucky’s balls.”

Apparently, my sister and her fiancé stayed at my place last night to kitten-sit while I was sleeping off the ketamine. Fucking ketamine! It all still feels so surreal. I didn’t think anything could make me feel more violated than being spunked on by those assholes, but being drugged out of my mind while naked and on a trip managed to top the list.

“Wait, how did Ryder get to his balls?” I ask.

She blushes, matching the baby-pink streaks in her blonde hair. “We’re newly engaged.”

“Gross, Tinny.” I sit up and fling the covers off, suddenly uncomfortable in my own bed knowing my sister and Lucky fucked on my sheets. Ryder climbs onto my lap and yawns, clearly undisturbed knowing Lucky’s balls and wiener could’ve rubbed the place where I’m sitting.

“I changed the sheets. I’m not a moron.”

That makes me feel a little better. “Still. Couldn’t you go one night without?”

“Apparently not.” She covers me back up and sits down on the edge of the bed, out of Ryder’s reach. “Want to tell me what’s going on with Judge?”

“I’m pretty tired.”

“Come on, My. Talk to me. You used to be able to tell me anything.”

“Yeah, well, things have been different lately. I’m basically a serial killer, and you’re engaged and about to start beauty school classes,” I joke to lighten the seriousness of the discussion.

“That’s not fuckin’ funny. I wasn’t going to bring the whole murder list thing up today, but now that you have. . . what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Wouldn’t I? Because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t sent on a tropical vacation when I was taken.” Her tone turns sharp, which pisses me off even more. How can she not see how different our experiences were? “Tell me how what happened to you was so much worse than what happened to me. I’m listening.”

“You had Lucky, okay?” I shout. “I didn’t have anyone. I was alone. This big, huge, horrible thing happened, and I had no one to talk to, no one to hold me and tell me everything would be okay. I had to deal with it on my own, so I’m sorry you don’t like the way I’m coping, but you don’t get an opinion. Not when you have someone to lean on.”

Her brows furrow, and her eyes bug out. “Are you dense?”

“What?”

“You’re either dense or so lost to this delusion that you can’t see what’s right in front of your face.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Myla, Judge has been there for you every single fucking day,” she says exasperatedly while I shake my head in disagreement. Sure, he was around, but only to annoy me. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ. While you were staying on Lucky’s pull-out after the incident, who was there bringing you food, drinks, medicine, and everything else you could ever want?”

I think back. “Judge did, but that was only because Cyrus put him on my duty. He told me so.”

“He was lying. The man had a crush and wanted a reason to be close to you.” She folds her arms in an “I told you so” manner, just like when we were little. When I say nothing, she continues, “And when you didn’t want to be at Lucky’s anymore, who offered up their guest room?”

“You told me Judge was the only one with an extra room.”

“Because we knew he liked you. Riot, Satyr, and Dutch all have an extra room or an open loft.” She grins. “It’s all coming together in that pea-brain of yours, isn’t it? And let’s not stop there because he asked to watch over you. Cy never sent anyone to look after you, but Judge being Judge, he didn’t want you to be alone after such a traumatic event.”

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