The Prey

Just like I agreed, I stayed in the apartment for the next two days. And to my relief, Judas kept his distance. If it looked like it. Or should I say, he was too busy in whatever business he was running, to spend more than an hour in the apartment.

He’d come late at night, and I would pretend to sleep, every muscle in my body taut with the fear of his touch. But he wouldn’t take me. Not again. Instead, he would sit in that same chair, in the corner, cradling a glass of wine as if it were a sacred ritual. His eyes, even through the...