Try Me (18+)

Thirty Six

Confessions #3

Ezra lay on the bed, the cool sheets clinging to her skin in the aftermath of another encounter with Jude. The room felt stifling, like it always did after she had been with him. Her body was still, but her mind raced, tangled in a web of disgust and guilt. She hated herself for using him but also for having to use her own body in this way.

But what choice did she have?

Jude was Yong's right-hand man, arguably the closest person to him. She hadn't done it to convince Jude to let her go, not exactly. If it were that simple, she would have taken the chance without hesitation. Besides, Jude was too clever for that. No, this was about shifting the balance of power within the house, about planting doubt where there had been only unwavering loyalty.

She had watched them all, studied them in the long weeks of her  captivity. Each of them; Noah, Jian, even the ones who rarely spoke such as Tatum and Hendrix, moved with an unshakable devotion to Yong. His word was law, his presence the force that held them together. But of all the bonds she had observed, none was as strongs as the one between Yong and Jude.

She had seen it in the way they greeted each other every morning, the easy and loving flow of their conversation and the purity in their laughter as they downed water after a run, their bodies slick with sweat. She had seen it in the quiet, unspoken gestures; the way Yong always made sure Jude's favorite banana-flavored milk was stocked in the fridge, the way he cared for Bam without needing to be asked. And she remembered the look in Jude's eyes the night Yong was shot; a flash of pure, unfiltered fear.

They weren't just colleagues or friends. They were brothers in everything but blood. And that kind of loyalty, that kind of trust, when broken, would leave the deepest wounds.

Which is exactly what she was counting.

 She hoped those wounds and the hatred and anger that would come with it, would cause enough chaos for her to guide her escape. And yet, despite knowing the essence of her plan, despite all the scheming and the anger she has towards Yong and towards Jude; each time his hands were on her, each time she pretended this was something she could stomach, she felt a little more of herself break.

Ezra sat up, staring at the door. She couldn't help the feeling of being trapped, not just in this house, but in her own body. Jude was never forceful, never cruel. In fact, that was part of the problem. He was attentive, always making sure she felt taken care of and satisfied.  But there was no affection in his touch, no warmth. It was all calculated, like everything in her life now.

She had thought she could play him, but in truth, she felt like a pawn herself. She was playing herself. 

A soft knock at the door snapped her from her thoughts. Ezra tensed as Jude stepped in, his tall frame silhouetted against the hallway light. His eyes scanned the room, resting on her for a moment longer than necessary.

"You're still awake," he said, his voice casual, though there was always an edge to it.

Ezra nodded but didn't meet his gaze. She couldn't, not after what had just happened between them. It felt too raw, too wrong.

"Jude, please. I'm tired." She responded, her voice barely above a whisper, though it was laced thickly with bitterness.

Jude didn't respond right away, leaning against the doorframe instead. His eyes narrowed slightly, something unspoken hanging in the air between them.

"You're always so sharp with me. Especially afterwards." he said, his tone unreadable. "I'd think you'd be a little more grateful."

"Grateful?" Ezra snapped, finally looking up at him, her frustration boiling over. "Grateful for what, exactly? For this prison? For—" She stopped herself, biting back the rest of the words. She couldn't afford to antagonize him too much. For now, Jude had power. Also the plan was to make him want her, not be irritated with her.