“What?” Her voice came out hoarse from disuse and exertion. She blinked a few times but didn’t look at me.
Standing, I crossed to where a small bar was set up and grabbed two bottles of water from the mini fridge. Going back to her, I took the seat beside her and uncapped one bottle before grasping her wrist and wrapping her hand around the drink. “Hydrate.”
As if every move was painful, she turned her head to inspect the bottle. After a brief hesitation, she took a small sip and then placed it in the cupholder between us. Soon, scents of food reached us, and she sniffed a few times before taking another drink of water.
“Smells like beef,” I commented, wanting to hear her voice.
“Mom doesn’t like you eating red meat.” She took a deeper drink from the bottle. “She told me she wants to stop the cycle so you don’t die of a heart attack like your father and grandfather.”
“There’s no cycle to end,” I told her. “Unlike my grandfather, my dad didn’t actually die of a heart attack.”
That caught her attention. Blue eyes wide, she looked up at me in confusion. “But that’s what Lyla told me he died of. Everyone said so.”
I lowered my head, pressing my lips to the shell of her ear. Her small gasp made my cock pulse. “That’s what I want them to believe, baby.”
“Then what happened?” she whispered.
“What had to,” I told her honestly and straightened. “Would you rather have chicken?”
She shifted in her seat to face me more comfortably. “You can’t say something like that, drop that kind of bomb, and then change the topic. What do you mean ‘what had to’? I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to worry about it.” I opened the other bottle of water and took two swallows. I shouldn’t have said anything, but I didn’t want her stressing over me dying of a heart attack like the other men in my family allegedly had.
“What did Mr. Bennet die from if not a heart attack, Judge?”
“Call me Zachary.”
“No. His passing was front-page news in all the local papers,” she persisted. “I remember reading a few of the articles. They all said the same thing. It was a sudden cardiac arrest. It was over before the EMTs even arrived at his office.”
“You were just a kid,” I reminded her. “The week before, I’d had to leave for two days.”
Her brow scrunched up. “What does that have to do with anything?”
I felt chilled just remembering everything that had led up to the bastard’s death. “While I was gone, was Lyla upset?”
“She was always upset whenever you had to go away overnight,” she confirmed. “Many times, she slept in my bed with me. She missed you.”
“I hated being away from home,” I confided. “I hated being away from my sister…and you. Every time I left the house, I wondered what fresh hell I was leaving you both to endure.”
“Judge—”
“Zachary,” I corrected. “When Lyla was four, she tried to make herself breakfast. You had strep, so Mabel was busy taking care of you. I hadn’t woken up yet. It was a Saturday. I thought Lyla would sleep in. But she didn’t. She was hungry, and she wanted to show me what a big girl she was by making herself something to eat. She burned the toast and set off the smoke detector. It was so loud it startled our father out of his drunken stupor. It woke me up too. But he got to her first.”
“Judge—”
“Zachary.” Picking up her hand, I stroked my thumb over her knuckles as that morning replayed through my head. “Every time I smell burned bread, I can see the fear on my sister’s face. The way she trembled as he stood over her, ready to strike her again. I should have killed him then, Elli.”
“Oh God,” she breathed. “He hurt her.”
“He almost hurt you, too.” I lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, pushing the images of Lyla’s bruises back into the vault where they belonged. “The week before he died, you were in the kitchen. Baking cookies to surprise Lyla. She’d gotten the highest grade on a history test in your class, and you were so proud of her. You were singing and dancing around. I watched from the back entrance. You begged me to be your lookout to make sure Lyla didn’t come in from swimming in the pool and ruin the surprise.”
Her eyes widened at the memory. “I’d forgotten about that.”
“Do you remember what happened next?” I asked, hoping she didn’t.
She blinked rapidly a few times and lowered her gaze. “Y-yes.”
“If I hadn’t been there, he would have hurt you, Elli. I couldn’t risk you or Lyla any longer. I decided then that something had to happen.”
Ellianna swallowed hard. “How did he really die?”
I met her gaze for a long moment, and seeing the horror in those light-blue eyes crushed me. “Are you scared of me now, Elli?”
“No,” she whispered. Her tongue peeked out of her mouth as she licked her lips. “But I think you need to unburden yourself, Judge. That’s why you’re confessing this to me.”
“And you’re my angel of mercy?” I asked with a smile. “Will you absolve me of my sins if I tell you everything, my Elli?”
“Do you have bigger sins than the death of your father?”
It was asked so innocently, like she didn’t expect me to admit the truth. But she had no idea. Killing that monster had been so easy.
Wanting her was something entirely different.
I’d tried so hard to protect her from myself.
“Yes.”
Chapter 19
Ellianna
Do you have bigger sins than the death of your father?
Yes.
He seemed to pack more remorse into that one word than I’d ever heard in Judge’s voice my entire life. And something else, something I’d never heard there before.
Self-loathing.
I didn’t doubt for a moment that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill anyone who was a threat to Lyla, not even his own father.
But that he had committed bigger crimes?
No, I didn’t believe that for a moment.
Yet, the truth—or maybe what he considered to be truth—was there in his dark eyes.
What had happened all those years ago with his father, I’d completely blocked from my mind until he’d reminded me. That day, I’d been so excited to celebrate Lyla’s test score. She didn’t care about academics, but when it came to history, she was the star student.
Mr. Bennet had come into the kitchen that day. Judge was standing at the back door and hadn’t seen his dad at first. He was busy making sure Lyla didn’t come in from the pool too soon. The counters were covered with flour and sugar. There was a broken egg beside the bowl I stood over, pouring chocolate chips into. A few of the morsels missed and scattered over the counter and onto the floor.
It was a disaster, but I would have cleaned up the mess.
My mom’s boss had been livid. He’d charged at me, his fist already raised to strike, calling me names I’d rarely heard in my life. I’d frozen up, my eyes clenching closed as I prepared to be hit. I knew he wasn’t a nice man. Lyla was scared of him—and Lyla wasn’t afraid of anything.