Bad Boy Judah

e i g h t

"Thank you for meeting with me," a shady man wearing a large fur coat nods his head.

I feel like a fly on the wall. A group of suited men stand around the living area like ready bodyguards. Judah sits across from the shady man. Judging by his accent, he's probably Italian. The heavy air forbids me to move a muscle. I hold in my cough, when the guest pumps his cigar.

"No problem," Judah replies, unfazed by the haze in the room.

"They shot Frankie."

No one speaks for a few minutes. I don't blink, in case it might be heard.

Fur coat man continues, "I want them to pay."

"Tonight," Judah asks, "Or tomorrow?"

Pleased with the mutual feeling of urgency to get even, fur coat man stands up. I stare at the tattoos lining his neck and face. He's scarier looking than Judah. I gulp to the maximum. I try to unpack their ambiguous sentences. This sounds like a plot for revenge. I'm only guessing.

"Whenever you see fit," he points. He fixes his fur coat and head towards the exit. "Don't let them breathe too long."

Judah now stands tall.

"Fine. But your men quit following my girl. If you want to know something, you come straight to me," Judah threatens in one cold tone.

I wasn't sure if he was talking about me, until fur man glanced at me from the corner of his eye. He then shrugs his shoulders with a surrendering smile and turns to Judah.

"I was curious whether—"

"I'll kill you quick." Judah cuts him off.

Goosebumps raid my arms, and I hold my breath. I hate having to hear things like this. I can't wrap my mind around Judah's intent or reason. Fur man pauses, but then finally nods. His long face seeps arrogance, but I can clearly see that he regards Judah highly, even though he's pissed him off.

Following me? Those guards have been keeping watch on me? When? Why? I've never even noticed. The more I think about it, the more I realize how deep I've gotten in this mess—this whirlwind. I stare at my knees, feeling stressed and under pressure. If only my naivety and stupidity weren't so overpowering when I'm by Judah's side...

"I'll leave first," fur man says.

He walks out the door, swaggering his rectangular shoulders from side to side. Even other gangsters know to keep their distance from Judah, if they wished to live long. So why do I, a complete empty-headed nobody, keep going to him every time he calls?

It becomes silent again, after the door clasps shut. For a minute, I wished that fur man took me with him... Anything, so I can be away from Judah.

"Are you going to kill someone?" I ask in whispers, before my heart goes into cardiac arrest.

Judah ignores my question and takes my sweaty hand. He brings us to the bedroom and closes the door. I act like a dumb lab rat that follows wherever the bright yellow cheese goes.

"Have you—you killed someone... before?" I turn to face his devilish gaze.

Judah doesn't deny it, nor affirm it. I go with the worst case scenario, because killing people isn't something you leave up to others' imaginations. I continue talking to make sure I that haven't lost my sanity.

"And—and those guys..." I point behind me, "What do you mean they were following me?"

"Don't worry about it," Judah finally speaks just to shut me up.