Page 181 of Adam
He didn’t have to say much. The way he talks about them, about Adam’s mother, or even me, says everything. He didn’t get handed a perfect life, but he still showed up. Claimed them. Loved them anyway. That kind of loyalty doesn’t come out of nowhere. A man like that doesn’t fake it.
He treats people like they matter, even when they’re messed up or broken. Even when the world tells him not to. And he’s here, with me, looking at me like I’m not a lost cause. Like I’m still worth something.
Maybe I’m not just the damage my father left behind.
There’s a knock on the door, but it opens before either of us can say a word.
“Grayson, if you’re finished, can I have a word with you?” Judas asks, standing with that usual calm, hands folded neatly in front of him.
My eyes stay on him for a bit longer. “Sure,” I say, standing up.
I walk past him and step out of the room, and he closes the door behind him without a word.
There’s something off about him. Like everything he shows is a mask, and underneath it, there’s something he doesn’t wantseen. I don’t know what he’s hiding or why, but I can feel he’s not clean.
I press my ear against the door.
“Back in the pit, huh?” Grayson asks.
“Something like that,” Judas says. “Blood calls.”
“You make it sound like routine,” Grayson says, voice harder. “It’s not. Don’t start slipping back into what you used to be.”
“Grayson.” His takes a few steps. “I appreciate the concern, but I don’t need a father. I had one. That was enough.”
A brief silence.
“You know where I’m going,” Judas continues. “If I don’t walk away from this, you keephersafe. No matter what.”
Her? Her who?
“Don’t let her pay for my choices.”
I hear the soft shift of fabric, like Grayson’s laid a hand on Judas’s shoulder, the same way he did with me not long ago.
“You have my word, son.”
There’s a pause.
“Now go. I have some things to prepare,” Grayson says again.
Grayson’s footsteps fade, probably heading toward the second exit. Judas doesn’t follow right away. He stays there for a moment, then his steps become louder, clearly walking toward the door I’m leaning on.
I don’t move.
Let’s see what he’s keeping buried.
He steps outside, casting me a sidelong glance. There’s a flicker of surprise in his expression.
“Nosy, aren’t you?” he says, folding his hands behind him.
A slow smirk tugs at my mouth. I cross my arms and lean against the wall. “Tell me something. Are you actually a priest, or just playing dress-up?”
“Does it matter?” he says, barely moving his lips. “You’ve already made up your mind.”
“You’re right. I don’t like you.”
He leans in, giving a slow smirk. “How unfortunate.”
