“Father?” I parrot, turning with my jaw slack incredulously. “What does he mean “father,” Levi?”
Levi takes a deep, steadying breath. The struggle within him is evident, pulsating in each limb that twitches with the need for revenge. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes briefly as Judas continues to laugh, and the walls close in on me.
Judas is his father.
I don’t know why I’m surprised.
I’ve been playing this game far too long to be utterly stupefied by news like this, but I am.
I hate how flustered it makes me, and how hurt I am that he felt the need to keep it from me.
“Levi,” I reply breathlessly as I open my eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me this is your father?” The pain in my voice is unmistakable. Judas coughs, blood spewing from his lips for a moment, before he interjects on Levi’s behalf – out of spite, or due to the fact Levi is too silent for comfort – I don’t know.
“He doesn’t tell anyone, Love,” Judas confirms. I glare at Judas.
“Why not?”
“He’s ashamed of me.” Judas would be shrugging if he could move that way. He’s duct-taped to the chair, so it proves most difficult for him. “So, it is easier to pretend. And I let him. I have let him for so long.”
“Then why now,” Levi snarls, stepping forward with the knife at his side. “Why bring it up now? Do you think it will get you out of dying? That Sasha will beg for your life now that she knows you are my father?”
Levi’s laugh is mirthless. There is no humor like there was in Judas’s, and fear flashes quickly in Judas’s eyes.
“She will not save you, because you do not deserve to be saved,” He booms. Levi grinds his teeth. “Not after what you fucking did, you sick—” Levi’s voice cracks, and I see the pain within him crescendo past his point of functioning. His legs shake and I have a feeling he’s losing control faster than he lets on. “—sick son of a bitch.”
“Levi,” I call, moving to him quickly. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my cheek against his chest. He takes heavy breaths – the closest thing to crying at the moment – as I attempt to calm him. “It’s okay.”
“You can make me out to be the bad guy, but I’ve always tried to do what I could to keep you apart of Jesse’s men. To make you a prized possession among the ranks. You’ve sabotaged it twice now.” Judas spits down at our feet. “You’re nothing but a fucking embarrassment.”
Levi tenses in my arms. Judas has struck a chord.
“I’m an embarrassment?” Levi scoffs. He steps out of my arms, and despite my pleas, he doesn’t return to me. He points the knife at his father’s face, with tears streaming down his face, and pure unadulterated hatred in his gaze. “You are a fucking embarrassment! You were anything but a fucking father! You have done nothing for me.”
“Nothing? I made you the fucking man you are today! Powerful! You demand respect, and hell, you’ve won this fucking war! Don’t say I’ve done nothing for you!” Judas screams, straining himself enough to turn his face red.
“I recall you making me into a man, by any means necessary, right? Even at the age of twelve, when I didn’t know what the fuck was going on…” Levi trails, his voice unsteady with rage and pain; a pain so fierce I begin crying, the image of an innocent twelve-year-old boy flashes in my mind, a boy that looks a lot like Levi except softer, kinder, blind to the horrors of the world – until his eyes were forcefully opened by his father, and whatever sick ploy he deposed to make Levi the “ultimate man.”
“Do you fucking remember, father? All of those women… one after the other, after the other, until you thought I was man enough? Until I was good enough to be called your son? Even as some of them beat me, and laughed, humiliated me until I was capable of standing up for myself, until the roles reversed, and I was the one who exuded control, who wasn’t being humiliated but causing the humiliation and taking pleasure and pain selfishly from women.”
I’m sobbing at this point, unable to control my emotions in the same way Levi has. My heart breaks for him. To be betrayed by someone you love, and regard dearly is something I know well, but it doesn’t come without its challenges.
“You would still be a pansy if I didn’t do what I did, Levi,” Judas replies, with no remorse in his tone. “You should be thankful I care so much about your value to Jesse, that I cared enough to do what I had to do to ensure this world didn’t chew you up and shit you the fuck out. And when that woman came along, and I saw that pathetic change in you, that naivety and kindness that I saw when you were a child, I knew I had to do something about it.”
My blood runs cold. He’s talking about Baileigh… my sweet sister. The death that I know he still mourns, even more than he’ll admit to me.
“So, I forced Jesse’s hand, and in the end, it was the right fucking thing to do.”
“Forced his hand?” Levi snarls, the knife shaking in his grip. “What the fuck do you mean?”
Judas responds with the carelessness of someone who knows he’s going to die. “Jesse wouldn’t have made that call if I hadn’t persuaded him. Even the men who accompanied me were reluctant to betray you. None of them cared the way I did! None of them could do what was best for you!” Judas seethes with disappointment and anger. “So, I lit that match, and I watched the building burn!”
A strangled noise leaves Levi’s lips. I clutch my hands to my chest, mouth agape as gasps and sobs leave my lips. My legs give out as Levi lurches forward and slams the blade into his father’s throat.
I fall to the ground, a weeping mess, tears streaming down my face. Accompanying the sound of my cries is the gurgling of a man choking on his own blood, of a man paying the ultimate price – a price that is still too kind, too merciful – to be called revenge.
Because Judas deserves to die a thousand times over.
The blade clatters to the ground, and seconds later, Levi has dropped to his knees before me. He takes me into his arms, shuddering with his own silent sobs, and we both come undone in each other’s desperate embrace.