“I haven’t slept much. I can’t.”
My phone began to buzz with all the notifications I’d purposely dodged. Against my better judgement I snatched it up and quickly peeked at my inbox, keeping the screen lowered at an angle so Judas couldn’t see. There were a few different texts but only one I wanted to read right then. With a desperation I was ashamed of, I opened it.
Dad: I love you. Please come home.
I stared at his text until my eyes burned, whether from the screen or a new wave of tears I refused to shed didn’t register. Was it pathetic to consider this an olive branch of sorts?
Aware Judas was pressed up against me, I dimmed my screen and sat the phone back down before he read the text exchange. Just when I started to think he’d dozed off because how quiet it was, he spoke.
“Did you dream of prom like all the other girls do?”
Instantly confused, I silently repeated that back to myself. “Why are you bringing up the prom?”
“Is that yes?”
“Get dressed up like a princess and go dance in a room of my peers? If we’re talking Pesadilla that’s a fresh form of hell. My old school? I would be all for it.”
“You’re already a--.”
“Judas if you call me a princess again, so help me.”
He laughed lowly, pulling me closer.
“Do you have a prom king fantasy?”
“I have higher aspirations than that. Why? Did you want to be my queen?”
I got the feeling we’d moved on from the prom subject. It was an odd and totally random thing to bring up in the first place.
“Why do I have to be your queen? I’d rather be my own.”
“Good answer.” It felt like he smiled against the top of my head. “You can sleep now, principessa. I’m here.”
I was tempted to point out he’d called me princess again. It wasn’t worth the wasted breath. I closed my eyes, pretending I found no peace or comfort in him being here.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Morning passed in segmented blurs.
I could remember Judas moving between my thighs while it was still dark outside. The sex itself wasn’t anything over the top, it was the way he took control and fucked me slowly, taking his time to make me come. He didn’t ever increase his tempo, rocking in and out of me with deep, calculated thrust. I came twice before he finished, moaning softly into his mouth.
I fell back asleep shortly after that, but it wasn’t long before I was woken up and had a latte all but shoved into my hand.
It had been around seven or eight then and I was sitting on the sectional. Last time I checked couches didn’t move. I blinked a few times and found myself staring at the ceiling of Judas’ Mercedes. There was a soft throw draped over me and my seat was leaned all the way down, so I’d be reclined.
For the briefest moment I stupidly thought we were on our way to school. It took me point five seconds to realize that wasn’t possible. I was wearing another pair of sweats and hadn’t done any primping or taken a shower. I shifted my attention to Judas and sat up. One glance out the window showed we were barreling down the freeway in a flow with other speedy drivers.
“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice groggy from me having just woken up.
“Good morning to you too.”
The time displayed on the car’s clock would put us almost at noon, but that wasn’t important right then.
I didn’t remember getting into the car. When had I done that? I combed through my mind going back to me drinking the latte.
He wouldn’t…
“Did you drug me with something?”
“I’ve done that one time and I never will again.”
“Then how did I get in your car, Judas?”
“A sedative is different than a drug.”
Is that really how he was going to justify this? Anger had blood roaring in my ears. I reached beside the seat and found the button that would raise it up in an effort to calm myself down with a slight distraction. I needed to think clearly.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe.”
My eyes wildly bounced around. None of this looked familiar. There’s no way we were in Crudele.
I checked my pockets and searched my immediate surroundings for my phone or my bag, seeing no sign of either.
“Where’s my cellphone?”
“After you text your dad that you’d be home around nine, you accidentally dropped it my pool.”
“What? What the fuck are you talking about I never did that!”
“The text he got from you says otherwise. I’d tell you to check for yourself but your phone’s either floating in a body of chlorine or sunk somewhere along the mosaic tiles.”
I gaped at him, curling my fingers into fists. He was so nonchalant about all this. With one hand on the steering wheel and his elbow resting casually on the middle console, he looked completely relaxed.