The Ruthless Heir

Erica’s [POV]

Fire singes my nerve endings and ricochets through my body as an almighty roar unleashes behind me. It sounds like a demon sent straight from hell, but I know without a shadow of a doubt it isn’t. He’s not quite the devil, but he’s no angel either. It has to be Judge.

I try to peel my face up off the leather when I hear a grunt, followed by a commotion, but I’m too weak. I try to call out for him, needing confirmation it’s going to be okay now, but my lips are too parched, and I have no voice left from screaming.

A muttered curse from his lips is the proof I need, and then all at once my body gives out. Like a thousand-pound weight has been lifted off my shoulders, I have to believe it will be okay. It will be okay because he’s here. That thought fades into oblivion as the adrenaline crashes, my head swims, and I succumb to the blackness.

Something tickles the edges of my consciousness, warmth blooming beneath my skin. I feel hot. Feverish. Like I’m burning alive. Pain skitters across my flesh, dragging me back to the reality I’d hoped to forget. It wasn’t a dream. It wasn’t a nightmare. I was there, and now, it’s too quiet. I’m scared to open my eyes. Scared to move. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest, and I’m struggling to draw in a breath when a palm comes to rest on my cheek.

“Mercedes.”

I jolt away from the touch, flopping onto my back, only to let out an agonized cry when I do. The pain. Oh, God, the pain.

My chest caves in, and before I can understand what’s happening, I’m wracked with sobs. Deep, ugly, horrifying sobs.

“Please,” the choked voice beside me whispers. “Open your eyes. Look at me.”

That voice… the sound of my tormentor and my savior has the strangest effect. It wounds me, yet it brings me a small sort of comfort. Because I know for certain, he has reclaimed me. I have traded one monster for another, and I have to believe this is the lesser evil.

“Please,” Judge begs. “Look at me.”

In the span of a few shuddering heartbeats, I manage to open my eyes. Not for him. Never again for him. But when I meet his gaze, the anguish on his face steals my breath away.

“Let me help you,” he says softly. Softer than I’ve ever heard him speak. “I need to roll you back onto your side, so it doesn’t hurt. But that means I need to touch you. Will you let me?”

Another wave of sobbing commences, and it can’t be helped. I don’t have control of my emotions right now. I don’t have control of my mind.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Fucking Christ.” Judge reaches out to touch me again, and again, I flinch away, cutting him deep. I can see it in his eyes. He looks so helpless, and he has never been a helpless man.

I have never been a helpless woman either. But right now, I am. I’m so completely fractured beyond repair I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from this.

“Perhaps I should try,” Lois offers in a gentle tone as she steps forward.

For a moment, Judge looks so utterly broken by the idea he shakes his head. But my eyes move to Lois, and I reach my fingers toward her in a silent plea. She’s the only person who hasn’t hurt me here. My only ally in this house.

“Okay,” Judge concedes with a stiff tone. “Please, just get her onto her side.”

Lois sits down beside me, careful and deliberate as she reaches out to touch my arm. “I’m going to help you turn back this way,” she says gently. “Is it okay if I touch your shoulder?”

I nod at her with a jerk of my chin, and she positions her hand beneath my shoulder and slowly rolls me back onto my side, legs curled into my body. My ass stings. My thighs too. But something sticky coats my skin, and I know they must have salved the wounds.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

Again, I nod, grateful for her soothing energy.

“We have some medication that will help,” she tells me. “Will you take it?”

My eyes move back to Judge, and my body shakes as another wave of agony pulses through me.

“I’ll be right here.” He leans forward onto his elbows, his brows pinched in frustration. “I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Nobody will touch you. Nobody will ever hurt you like that again.”

My lips part and I release a strangled sound, working my dry throat until I can force a response from it. “Don’t make promises… you can’t keep.”

Devastation passes over his face, but I’m too far gone to care. When I glance up at Lois, she seems to understand what I need. A promise from someone I can trust.

“I’ll stay,” she assures me. “Please, Mercedes, do not worry. I will watch over you. But you need to rest. You need to heal.”

I nod, and she takes the pills from Judge, along with a small cup of water. She has to hold my head up so I can take them, and when I do, my eyes feel heavy within seconds. I’m exhausted, and Lois is right. The only thing I can do now is rest.

Hours blur into each other. Moments of oblivion seem to fracture under seconds of brief clarity when I open my eyes to find Lois kept her word. She hasn’t left. Neither has Judged.

Images of them at my bedside swirl through my mind, getting tangled up somewhere in the brutal nightmares that seem to possess my body and mind. Screams pierce the silence, and I tremble so violently, I wonder if I’m dying. When they try to comfort me, it only makes it worse.

“What can we do?” I hear Judge’s voice. And then someone else. The doctor, I think.

“Time.” His words fade away, morphing into something else.

Hellhounds are chasing me through the dark forest, nipping at my heels. My screams seem to echo all around me, the sound reverberating through my chest and down to the ground, only to rumble beneath my feet. I dare glance over my shoulder, gasping for breath, only to realize they aren’t hounds at all. They are beasts with men’s faces. All the men who have ever hurt me.

Lorenzo De La Rosa, my father. Santiago. Theron. And of course, Judge.

I try to fight them off. I try to keep them at bay with a large stick, but just like all the other times, I am no match. One by one, they pounce on me and tear at my flesh, eating me alive until there’s nothing left but my frail, beating heart.

“Vivid dreams,” a voice murmurs around me. “Side effect.”

I strain to hear the rest, but suddenly, I’m pulled back into my father’s office as if through a vortex. Back to a time when I decided it would be a good idea to show him I had a backbone. He seems larger than life in his deathly form. Looming over the desk as he leans forward, his face half eviscerated from the explosion, exposing his skull. When his arms move, he hovers closer to the ceiling, and black smoke curls around the room, suffocating the air.

A foolish little girl. His words reverberate through me, chilling me to the bone. And then, just as before, he’s dragging me to the chapel to mete out my punishment all over again.

The marble is so cold against my cheek when he tosses me down. I cry because it has to be real. But it’s the sound of him pulling his belt free that truly douses me in terror.

The leather slices into my skin, and I jolt, only to be slammed back down by his boot. And then he repeats it. Over and over. The violence has no end, and my tears won’t save me, even when my limbs start to fall apart, tearing at the seams.

“Please,” I beg.

“Bad girls go to hell!” he roars as the floor opens up to a fiery pit, and I’m falling, falling to the depths of the inferno to burn for all of eternity.

“Mercedes, please.” Gentle fingers touch my face, and my eyelashes flutter, pulling me back from the clutches of my mind. “Wake up.”

I want to, but I’m still too afraid. And then I smell him. Warm spices and leather. I tell myself it isn’t safe. I can’t trust anyone. But when I feel his weight dipping against the bed next to me, I wish I could.

“Wake up.” His fingers move over my jaw, stroking my skin like he’s memorizing it. “I know you’re in there.”

My eyes flicker open gradually, and the bright sunlight stings, disorienting me. How long have I been in this bed? I try to move, and Judge’s warm breath blows across my lips as he stills me. He’s so close, lying right beside me, face-to-face. Dark circles color the skin beneath his eyes. Exhaustion hangs heavy in his features, but there’s a relief there too.

“It’s okay now,” he murmurs. “I’m here with you.”

I wish I could believe him. When I blink, more tears come, and I’m so tired of crying. But Judge wipes them away with his thumbs, his body moving closer yet. His warmth penetrates me, and I don’t want to like it. I don’t want to be comforted by it. But I can’t bring myself to push him away. Not even when he drags his fingers over my lips like all he wants to do is kiss them, but he knows not to try.

“How long have I been here?” I croak.

“Days,” he answers with a solemn tone.

I don’t understand how that’s possible. I don’t remember sleeping for days. Or drinking. Or going to the bathroom. But I’m clean and in a fresh pair of pajamas when I glance down. And there’s an IV in my hand, the tube leading to a stand next to the bed.

“Have I woken?” I ask.

“At times.” Darkness flashes in his vision like he doesn’t want to recall those moments. “But we’ve been keeping you medicated. You may not remember.”

My eyes drift to his, and I find myself getting lost in them, wondering who he is. Wondering what he hides from the world. Theron’s words are still fresh in my mind. You don’t know what he’s capable of.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“Because.” He swallows painfully. “I can’t… leave you.”

I want to understand the emotion behind those words, but I can’t. Exhaustion is weighing me down again, pulling me under fast. Judge senses it, and he moves closer, brushing the hair away from my face before his palm settles on my waist.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his words a sweet lullaby in my ear. “You can sleep now, little monster. I’ll watch over you. You’re safe with me now.”