Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“No. I’m done with you.” Judge had said it with such venom, but he paused at the door as if he hadn’t meant it to sound like it did, and oh how Michaels hoped he hadn’t. He hurried over to him, determined not to let the embers simmering between them fizzle and burn out before the fire even got started. He knew he had feelings for Judge and he was positive the man was developing feelings for him too. They were venturing into unchartered waters… and it was scary, but Michaels always looked fear in the face and flicked it off.
He was running and wincing as his bare feet moved over the rough asphalt. He tried to keep up with Judge while he dialed his Sergeant’s number. As soon as Syn picked up, he barked that he needed immediate transport and that Judge had a family emergency and disconnected the call. Judge had lifted the seatback to let Bookem in and thrown his bag in the front seat when Michaels reached him and tried to calm his racing heart.
“Judge look at me, please.”
“I gotta go. I have no time. None!” Judge yelled, slamming the passenger door hard enough to knock the few remaining shards of the side mirror he had left to the ground.
“I’m so sorry about your dad, babe. I am. I will be in Gainesville as soon as I drop Switch off, I promise. Not a second later.” Michaels saw Judge shaking his head, but he kept on talking. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“That’s right! Alone! That’s how I do shit! That’s how I handle my business. Alone!” Judge yelled, and shouldered past Michaels over to the driver’s side. “If I hadn’t had gotten caught up in your immature bullshit I’d have been where I was needed.”
Michaels staggered back like Judge had punched him in the chest. Immature. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, trying to be mindful that Judge was hurting, extremely. “I understand you’re mad… and scared. But you can’t tell me you weren’t into this!” Michaels’ tone was elevating, but not from anger or fear, it was because he was hurting, too. Judge was hurting the hell out of him and he didn’t like the feeling. He wanted it… no, he needed it, gone. Michaels pointed toward their room. “Think back to about ten minutes ago, Judge. Think about how you felt when you looked at me just ten goddamn minutes ago.”
Judge sighed, climbing into his truck and Michaels hoped he had gotten through but he was sorely disappointed.
“That’s why I don’t look at men like that. It was a momentary lapse in my judgment that will never happen again. You had needs, I had needs, we caught each other at that time. It was still unprofessional as hell. You might not… but I should know better. Fucked up shit happens every damn time you think you can trust someone.” Judge sneered at Michaels. “You never wanted this anyway. You’re here to fix your fuck-up and impress your Lieutenants. It was never about me. I was just—”
“That’s a goddamn lie and you know it!” Michaels yelled, cutting off Judge’s craziness.
Judge slammed the door in his face and burned rubber out of the parking spot so fast Michaels had to leap back to keep from getting run over. He watched Judge peel out into the street, almost clipping a couple cars as he fishtailed between two lanes. He could hear Bookem barking loudly before the sound faded completely. It was done. His muscles twitched like a thousand bees stinging him. He squeezed his eyes shut at the sure knowledge that he’d never see Judge again.
His phone buzzed in his hand and when he saw it was God, he almost didn’t want to answer. When he connected the call, he told his boss about the phone call Judge had received—of course leaving out their lovers’ spat—and he let him know Judge was already gone.
God informed him that Ruxs and Green would be there as soon as they could and to sit tight. The call ended and Michaels rolled his eyes. Not Ruxs and Green. Hopefully they make it back to Atlanta without blowing up a neighborhood or supermarket on the way. Michaels got back to the room and pushed the door open but didn’t let it close. Closing meant final. He didn’t want to accept that yet. He leaned his hot forehead against the cool metal of the door. He was on his third deep breath when he heard the clink of metal immediately followed by a plastic bag slipping over his face.
All the training in the world didn’t prepare you for the actual feeling of someone trying to suffocate you. Michaels panicked and grabbed for the bag, but it was cinched tight around his throat. He heard the shackles rattling on Switch’s wrists as he was slung back and forth like a ragdoll. He kicked out, trying to bodily buck death off of him as he was dragged further into the room. He uselessly grasped at furniture, at the wall. He knew he was losing precious time and oxygen. Switch swung and thrashed him back and forth like a crocodile with his prey within its grasp. The bastard was strong and Michaels was getting weaker by the second. Switch flung him hard to the right, knocking Michaels off his feet, the side of his already bruised face hitting the corner of the wooden coffee table, then hitting the floor like a boulder. He took that pain. Breathing was getting harder and harder as he sucked the plastic into his mouth, the bag inflating and deflating with every fruitless effort to force air into his lungs. He coughed hard, coughed out fear and regret, and quick on its heels was pain, rising like lava out of a volcano while his lungs burned with his body’s need for air. Sweat drenched his face and his breathing became ragged… desperate.