Page 35 of Judas

Judas picked up the phone to call her when it vibrated in his hand. Her beautiful name flashed on the screen like a beacon in the dark.

"Ahavah," he cooed, "Where are you—"

"Judas!" she screamed.

Her bellow was like an electric shock to his body. He was immediately ready for a fight, "Eliza! What's wrong?"

He heard her wails and they nearly brought him to his knees. He couldn't help but grab his keys and run to the door before he remembered the food on the stove. He raced back to the stove to shut off the burners as her crying intensified and he recognized the sounds of sirens in the background. He ran out of the apartment, skipping the elevators, and raced down the six flights of stairs; his feet barely hitting any ground.

With his phone still in his ear, his core crumbled as he continued to listen to her sobs.

"Baby… talk to me. What's going on? Where are you? Baby, you need to tell me where you are!" His feet echoed in the expanse of the parking garage as he charged for his car. He slid on the leather seats of his Audi and the engine roared to life. But where is he going? Before he put the car in drive, he tried again, "Eliza! Please…ahavah. Talk to me—"

She finally caught her breath and her voice was short like a drum staccato, "It's. Dad. He's. Been. Shot. Judas. Oh. God. Judas!"

The tires of the car squealed as Judas raced past the gate guard arm, "I'm on my way."

Chapter twenty-two

The automatic doors of Baylor University Medical Center swished open as Judas ran into the emergency room waiting area. The time it took him to drive here was too much. His racing mind was uncontrollable as he played Eliza's screams of despair over in his head. He didn't know what he would be walking into either. Was Paul dead? Had Eliza been with him? Was she hurt? Judas would never forgive himself if the latter turned out to be true.

"I'm looking for Paul Arthur or his daughter," he told the thin nurse in the pink scrubs at the desk.

"Judas?" a faint whimper squeaked behind him. Judas spun to find Eliza, wrapped in a gray blanket, her face ruddy and swollen from crying.

Waves of relief crashed over him and he pulled her into his strong hold, "Oh my God. You're safe. It's okay, you're safe." He wasn't sure if he was reassuring Eliza or himself.

She wept in his tight hold and he stroked her golden hair. With every deepening sob, Eliza took in Judas' scent, which began tobring a sense of calm to her. Her cries ebbed more than flowed as her body relaxed.

A portly paramedic with bushy brown hair and a mustache handed Judas a cup of water, "I think she should drink this. She's been in a state of shock since she came in with her father."

Judas, not accepting the water because it would mean taking an arm away from her, spoke in a firm tone, "What happened? She said her father was shot?"

The round medic nodded, "GSW to the left anterior shoulder and posterior right lung. They just took him into the OR. I wanted to let her know."

Judas nodded sharply and the man walked away. Paul was shot twice; once in the front and once in the back. He wondered from what range the assailant fired and how large a caliber. In his life, Judas witnessed hundreds of wars and saw the life drain from men whose convictions convinced them they were on the side of justice. He never chose conflict even though at times, it seemed to hunt him with an ancient and ruthless disregard.

Eliza's mind raced as she allowed Judas's protective embrace to warm her. The chill of fear and despair are forced out of her body by the shield of electrifying security that radiated from him. She is under his guardianship now and she can finally make sense of the chaos playing out around her. She looked into the dark honey eyes of her savior and saw her own relief.

"Ahavah," he whispers, "What happened?"

He guided her to a chair but fdidn’t let her out of his hold. She sat next to him, pulling the blanket tighter, and leans into him; his firm form supported her from completely crumbling under the weight of her thoughts. Her voice was stuck somewhere between her chest and teeth and distant when she tried to speak.

"I…" she pulled at the blanket, "I was in the car on my way when I got a call from a neighbor… they… said an ambulance wasat Dad's… and police. I got there as quickly as I could… they were just about to leave with him."

Eliza stared at the phone in her shaking hand, “I called Uncle Chet… he told me to keep him posted. I think he’s still dealing with his own stuff."

Judas reaches up to wipe a tear from her eye, "It's okay. Your dad’s here now. They’ll take care of him. He will be fine."

He knew his words would only soothe her pain temporarily. He didn't actually know if Paul would make it out of the operating room alive or not, but he had to keep hope alive inside Eliza. Judas didn't have it in him to allow reality to force its way inside her just yet. The stout paramedic was back but this time a slender man in a beige suit with a navy tie accompanied him to the pair.

"Ms. Arthur?" the man in the suit flips open a notebook.

Eliza's tear bleary eyes blink up in the direction of the voice, "Yes?"

"I'm Detective Grable with the Dallas police department. I know this is a difficult time right now, but do you think you could answer some questions?" Detective Grable pulled a pen out of his white Oxford shirt.

Judas noticed the officer's calloused hands and it reminded him of a carpenter he once knew. He felt Eliza trembling under his hands and he tightened his hold gently.

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