Bad Boy Judah

t w e n t y o n e

It wasn't a nightmare. It was real.

I can tell, because my head continuously throbs with pain. It hurts just to open my eyes.

"I bet it's that Hudson boy. He set this up."

"No, it's not... He doesn't have workers."

I search for Judah's groaning voice. Tears flood my eyes, because the gunshot keeps replaying in my mind. He's alive, and that fact is overwhelming me somehow.

"So what if he decided to work for Brag?"

I see Humphrey rolling some bandages around Judah's bleeding back. I gasp, panicking anew. Scissors snip its end.

"This is insane. Why aren't we retaliating?" Humphrey argues with a low voice and frustration written on his face.

Judah rests onto the bed, sighing heavily.

"I'm not dead. There's no need to retaliate," he smirks and closes his eyes.

Humphrey drops the bloodstained scissors on the night stand and walks to the widow. I try to push myself up.

"What happened?" I clear my throat.

The two men look my way, seeming surprised that I'm awake. 

I try to rush over to Judah. Humphrey shakes his head and leaves the room. My hand shakes, wiping the sweat off Judah's brow. Before my mouth can open, Judah speaks first.

"Listen," he starts. He swallows before opening his mouth again, "I called Humphrey to take you home."

His expression is serious with me. I shake my head and withdraw from him.

"I'm not leaving without you," I shut him up.

I watch his jaw contract, practicing patience with me. He opens his eyes and stares hard.

"It's not an option," he says.

I protest, "Why?"

Judah tries to get up, despite his wound. I shiver, when I glance at the short bullet sitting atop the night stand, surrounded by bloody tissue. He files on his black t-shirt over his body. I watch his dark swirling tattoos disappear underneath it.

"J-Judah..." I breathe.

"I have to go-," he sighs, closing his eyes.

"Where?" I interject quickly.

Judah closes his eyes and sighs, "Doesn't matter."

My hands nearly tear my hair out. What is so important that he can't see a doctor? He might bleed to death, but he's acting as if he just stumped his toe and nothing is a big deal. This gets me beyond discouraged to even try to convince him out of his plans. It must be my turn to practice patience with this guy.

My pained eyes watch him limp through the hallway.

"What? What for?"

His finger presses the elevator button and his grey eyes look up. The strands of hair that got wet with his sweat stick onto his temples. His skin is pale despite the room's darkness.

Judah mutters, "Rose, if I explain everything to you..."

I frown. The elevator doors open. Fear gets heavier inside me. My gut twists.

"You were shot! You can't be okay!" I shout, worried.

He then pushes me in the elevator. Yet, he never steps in. I'm surprised he stills has so much strength.