Her Rebellion (The Rite Trilogy 2)

“I won’t hurt her,” I tell Lois in a voice I don’t recognize.

“I know you won’t,” she says after too long.

Jesus. God. Is it better if I’m away from her?

Mercedes moans then. Says my name. It’s the first time she’s called for me since she’s been in here.

Lois and I both look at her and something blooms in my chest at the sound. Because she’s turning her face into the pillow where I usually lie beside her. Is she searching for me?

“You won’t hurt her,” Lois reassures me, a hand on my arm. “Go to her. She needs you.”

Mercedes sleeps a little better when I’m beside her. It’s some comfort to me, that knowledge. When the battle inside her mind begins, I draw her to me, hold her against my chest. She fights at first, opening the scratches that barely have time to scab over from the previous night. I don’t restrain her, but I do hold on to her. And then she settles and sleeps. Sometimes she cries. Just quiet, hopeless sobs. Those episodes don’t last long, thank goodness. I don’t think I could bear them if they did. Through it all, I just hold her.

I push my hand through my hair and scrub my face. Lois is right. I need to sleep. Tomorrow during the day. Right now, Mercedes is my priority.

“Go get some rest, Lois.”

She nods. She’s tired too. “You come get me if she needs me.” Lois has moved into a guest room a few doors down. She lives in a cottage on the property but since the incident, she moved herself into the main house to be available at all hours.

“Judge,” comes Mercedes’s hoarse voice again. Lois disappears and I go to her.

“I’m here.”

I meant what I said. I will watch over her. Always.

She exhales, settles into sleep once she hears me.

Another week has passed like this. The doctor took the IV out this morning and we’re slowly easing her off the sedatives which he prescribed to help her sleep and get the rest she needs to heal. The damage my brother did was more mental than physical. I’m not sure that’s a good or bad thing.

Lois and I have woken her to eat what little she’ll eat. Mostly a few spoonful’s of soup. During the day she sleeps more peacefully than she does at night. We leave the curtains open, let the light in. It seems to calm her. Reassure her.

At night, though, it’s different. Like the darkness settles inside her. I wonder what hell traps her in the dreams that come during the small hours when she lashes out to fight invisible beasts.

During the day I sit in the chair beside the bed and watch over her. I work a little, although I can’t concentrate on anything but her. At every sound, no matter how slight, she draws all my attention.

As dark descends now, I wait for the cycle to begin anew. To watch as she becomes restless, lines etching the smooth skin of her forehead, her hands clenching and unclenching to fight off her demons.

Demons. She has several. Her father the first. I wonder if Santiago is one for the fact that he gave her to me. Cast her out of his home. Out of his life.

And when she came to be in my keeping, I became the third demon to torment her. My own desire became her undoing. My selfish want of her.

And there is now a fourth. My brother.

How safe have I kept her in my home? Not at all. First Miriam. And what did I do but call Mercedes a liar and punish her? Then my brother. And throughout it all, me. From the very beginning, the very first night she arrived. How safe has she been from me?

I go into the bathroom to wash my face. I look a wreck. My cheeks have hollowed out. The skin around my eyes is shadowed. The bruise along my jaw is nearly gone, the cut on my cheekbone that required stitches will leave a mark. Not that I care. Mercedes took the brunt of his rage, although, thankfully, her injuries weren’t as bad as I expected. He could have done worse. He held back. Which is the one thing that may save his life.

That’s not true though. It’s not the one thing. There’s a reason my grandfather paid him off. If the truth had come out that Theron wasn’t of Montgomery blood, it would have shamed the old man. Tainted the family name. Theron knew how important this was to our grandfather and used that fact against him. Because being a Sovereign Son, he is protected by IVI’s laws. To murder Theron would have meant a death sentence to my grandfather. It will mean one to me.

But it doesn’t excuse what he did. He will pay.

Mercedes makes a sound and I hurry back into the bedroom. I strip down to my briefs and put on the folded pair of pajama pants Lois left on the foot of the bed, then lift the blanket to climb in beside her.

“No!” she starts. It’s always the same.

“Shh. You’re safe, Mercedes. It’s me. It’s Judge.”

With effort she opens her eyes to peer at me, but then closes them again.

I settle in beside her and the bed dips. Her body curls into mine. I cover both of us with the blanket and wrap an arm around her.

She pushes against my chest momentarily. When I don’t budge, her fingernails dig in. Although Lois cut them down when she saw my chest so she can’t do as much damage.

“You can turn me black and blue, little monster, but I won’t leave you,” I whisper against her ear, then kiss her temple. “Sleep now. You’re safe.”

She mutters something then settles down. An owl hoots outside. I hold on to her. My eyelids feel heavy but I fight to keep them open because if I sleep, I’ll have my own nightmare. I’ll relive that night, going over it again and again to understand something I can’t understand.

Light pours into the room.I wake to the clicking of a door and the smell of coffee. When I open my eyes, I see the steaming mug Lois must have just left.

I slept. A full night according to the clock which tells me it’s a little after nine in the morning.