Fallen From Grace Read online

  Copyright © 2014 by Leigh Songstad

  All rights reserved.

  Edited by Jennifer Roberts-Hall

  Cover Designed by Indie Book Covers

  Interior Designed by Kassi Cooper

  No part of this book may reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  JUDAS WOODS THREW HIS LEGS off the side of the bed and stroked a hand along the stubble shading his jaw. Across the room behind him, sunlight poured through steel encased windows that spanned the width of the wall and gave way to a breathtaking view of Midtown Manhattan. It had been nearly dawn before he’d gone to bed, and the reason was fast asleep and snoring behind him. Rubbing his sore neck, he glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping blonde who the bed belonged to—Rebecca Meyers.

  He shook his head and looked at the clock. 9:30 am. Shit. Judas had to be in court in thirty minutes, and only a miracle would get him there on time. At the beginning of his career, he’d taken his oath seriously and thought he could make a difference in the world. But that hope slowly died inside him like a flame denied oxygen.

  “Why did you get that tattoo? It’s absolutely beautiful, but haunting at the same time,” Rebecca said, stirring behind him.

  Judas knew which one she was referring to; the beautiful, ominous woman with the eyes of despair—The Virgin Mary. His outlet was ink, each mark a new piece on his back. Soon a t-shirt wouldn’t conceal them. His tattoos, his sins would be bared for the world to view.

  Rebecca’s question compelled him to remember; to revisit the death of his mother and the events that followed. He leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees as he tried to shake away the thoughts, but they came roaring back to him even as he thrust his fingers through his hair.

  Judas never called his father, Jack Woods “Dad”, or any sentimental endearment, and he never would. Maybe asshole, or SOB, but not Dad. He’d always been controlling, but the unexpected death of his wife had left him cold and callous. He forced Judas to go to law school, and though he had other dreams, he acceded to his father’s demand. It hadn’t been out of fear or diffidence, but an inexcusable guilt that haunted his dreams and forever gave his father the ammunition he required to control his life.

  Judas studied at Harvard Law School for six years, and at the age of twenty-four, he graduated first in his class. Law wasn’t his passion, but he discovered a love for it during his years of study.

  He didn’t receive one phone call, email or visit from Jack. Just an annual check to pay his tuition and rent. Judas shared a house with two guys who were notorious for parties, but he usually sat in his room with the door closed as he read or studied.

  When he graduated, Jack wasn’t in attendance among the proud parents, family and friends at the ceremony. There was no one in the crowd for Judas. The following day, a driver in a black Town Car arrived and brought him back to New York City.

  When Judas was delivered to the palatial penthouse space, his father wasn’t there. He assumed his father had sold the loft Judas spent the first eighteen years of his life, and had done God knows what with his personal things. Inside the guest bedroom, a black Armani suit and an invitation to New York’s Annual Breast Cancer Awareness Fundraiser sat on the bed.

  He unpacked his bags, took a hot shower, then shaved and dressed in the tailored suit and shiny black shoes. Taking the elevator to the first floor, he walked across the lobby that was a sea of silver, and through the revolving doors that opened to the city. The driver who’d driven him to the penthouse was parked along the curb, and he opened the door as soon as Judas stepped outside.

  “Have you been here this entire time?” Judas asked, coming to stand next to the car. It had been over three hours.

  “Yes, sir, Mr. Woods.”

  “Do you know where my father is?”

  “I believe he will be at the fundraiser, sir.”

  Judas nodded and unbuttoned his jacket before sliding into the backseat. The driver shut the door, and they drove through the city to the Hilton located Midtown. Judas climbed out before the driver could come around and open his door. He wasn’t used to the luxury of a personal chauffeur, and quite honestly, it unnerved him. He’d rather drive, but his car was missing, along with everything else.

  Inside the hotel, his nerves didn’t get a reprieve. He felt out of place as he walked around the lavishly decorated event space. He picked a glass of champagne off a tray as a server walked by, then took a drink as his gaze soaked in the room and the people. The women wore extravagant gowns with layers of jewels snaked around their wrists and necks, and the men wore black and white suits with bow ties.

  Judas adjusted his bow tie that suddenly felt very tight.

  “You look as bored as a house cat,” a predatory voice purred from behind him.

  Judas turned around and was caught off guard by an incredibly pretty woman. Her blue eyes shifted slowly down his body as if she was summing up his market value, and her blonde hair fell in curls to the top of her round breasts, which were pressed together, barely concealed by the neckline which dipped very, very low. One hand held her champagne flute, and the other tapped a red, manicured finger against the stem. It matched her dress and her lipstick screamed sexual siren.

  He shook his head as he tried to gain his bearings, but his thoughts were like bald tires on ice. She wasn’t the typical girl you’d find in a Boston bar playing darts and drinking beer.

  “Are you saying I need a little catnip to liven me up?” he asked, finally gaining some traction.

  “I might have something that can help,” she replied with a secret smile.

  Judas had been playing along with her cat joke, but he suspected she was talking about something with a little more bite. He watched as she took a drink of champagne, then glanced around.

  “My mother sure knows how to bore people to death. She’s the one who planned this event.” She looked at him. “There’s too much pink for my taste.”

  Until then, Judas hadn’t even noticed how much the color dominated the room; pink flowers, pink napkins, pink tablecloths and pink banners hung above the stage.

  “I think the proceeds of the night go towards Breast Cancer Awareness,” Judas said as he narrowed his eyes at her.

  “I know, but that doesn’t make me like the color any better,” she whined.

  “Right.”

  Judas was trying to think of a polite reason to leave when he heard his father’s voice.

  “Hello, Judas.”

  Jack stood next to him wearing a tuxedo and an arrogant grin. “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”

  Judas’s gaze shifted to the woman whose name he’d failed to obtain. She looked at Jack and held out her hand. “I’m Alexandre Martin, but you can call me Alex.”

  Jack lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Nice to meet you, Alex. I’m Jack Woods.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jack,” she said, blushing and reluctantly lowering her hand when he let go. She turned to Judas. “A few of us are leaving as soon as my father delivers his speech. I’m throwing the after party. You’re more than welcome to join us, Judas.”

  Yeah, when hell freezes over.

  She winked at him before sauntering away. Judas looked at his father who was grinning mischievously.

  “What?” Judas asked.

  “I thought this might be difficult, but you just made it very, very easy.”

  Judas’s gaze narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

  Jack shifted so that he towered over Judas in all authority. “I want you to go to the Ivy with Alexandre and her friends, and I want you to bring me back something that documents her lifestyle.”

  “What lifestyle?” Judas stared at his father, genuinely confused until it hit him. “You mean drugs.” She’d already hinted she had something more potent than catnip.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Her father is a judge, and he’s had me in a vice. I need some leverage. It’s not as if I’m asking for your virtue. Besides, I know you’re not a virgin.”

  “No, but I’m not a crook, and that’s extor
tion, punishable by five to seven years.”

  “Not if you don’t get caught. Look, pretty girls like her will eat up your bad boy appeal, so fuck her if you have to,” his father spat bitterly, “but get me my evidence.”

  “I won’t do it.”

  “You owe me this.”

  Judas glanced away as the familiar tightening in his chest constricted like a fist squeezing his heart. He knew why Jack was demanding this horrible act from him. It was the same ploy he’d used six years ago to get him to go to law school. The guilt of his mother’s death came crumbling down on him like an avalanche.

  “If you don’t you will never practice law in this country. I’m very powerful, Judas, and I know a lot of people. I’ll disinherit you, and you’ll be broke. You’ll have nothing. Do this for me and I’ll make your career. A career people can only dream to have.”

  Judas was speechless as Jack clinked their glasses together and walked away. Alex met his gaze from across the room, and his heart sank as he realized he had no choice.

  His father held the cards to his future. This would be his consequence for what had happened during his junior year of high school; his penance to Jack, God and his mother. But he knew nothing would ever rid the pain in his heart because it would never bring her back.

  Alex didn’t say anything when he eventually walked over to her. She just smiled because she’d just landed the hottest new lay, and confidently rolled her hips as she left the event with him on her arm. Judas glanced over his shoulder at his father just before they exited through the doors. Jack dipped his head with an approving nod that condemned Judas. At twenty-four years of age, he’d just signed a deal with the devil.

  The hours that followed were the worst of Judas’s life. He rode in her limo to an exclusive bar where she proceeded to get intoxicated and high, and dance on the laps of every stranger in the room. The party continued to some random, socialite’s house where drugs were strung out on tables, and naked people were swimming in a pool. Judas didn’t even need to take a picture of Alex for evidence; everyone was documenting the illegal activities.

  Judas watched as one of the drunk girls put her phone away after taking a photo of Alex on a guy’s lap; the short skirt she’d changed into was bunched up around her waist, and her thong was exposed. That wasn’t even the worst part; she had white powder on her nose, a joint in one hand, and bottle of liquor in the other as her tongue hung from her rock star expression.

  Slipping the phone from the girl’s purse, he forwarded the picture to himself, then deleted it and the message. He showed the picture to Jack the next day, who grinned and said, “Good boy,” like Judas was his obedient dog.

  Then he issued two rules.

  “You must never meet their fathers. Leave it to me to keep them quiet. I can’t have them finding my source because you messed everything up. And no dating these girls. It’s too risky.”

  Coming back to the present, he stared at his hands. He’d bent rule number two...a few times. After he’d heard Alex was sent to rehab, he contacted her once she returned to the city. She was better, but still tempted to use again. He felt that if he could help her, maybe what he’d done wouldn’t be so bad. He knew it was risky; if her father ever discovered Judas’s association with her, he would get caught, but it was a risk he was willing to take. Lucky for him, she rarely spoke with her father and never found out the real reason she was sent to rehab. She blamed it on a stash she had in their family home, which her mother supposedly discovered.

  In a weird way, it had all worked out for the best. Judas acted as her sponsor, and eventually she’d went back to school and met a great guy. It had been years since he talked to her, but a few weeks ago he’d received an invitation to her wedding.

  All his father’s marks were the same, they weren’t interested in current events or politics. The city was pushing eight and a half million people, and so far Judas had been lucky the women hadn’t found out who he really was. The majority of them all had drug problems, or a secret they didn’t want anyone to discover, and it was Judas’s job to learn what it was, so Jack could use it against his target. Judas couldn’t help them all, and sometimes he felt as though they were just asking for what Jack was forcing him to do. When he’d reached that low, he’d gotten the Virgin Mary tattoo, and he’d since gained a dozen others. He’d do the best he could with the life God gave him until he could be rid of Jack, which he was certain would only be in death.

  During the day, he worked as a lawyer, but Jack didn’t want him distracted, so Judas was only assigned sure wins. To date, he was undefeated.

  Rebecca was his longest mark, and he’d come to sympathize with her more than the others. Her father never phoned; nor did her mother or sister. Judas was fairly certain they’d paid her to keep her distance, and her drug use a secret.

  “Judas?” Rebecca called.

  “Hmmm?” Judas murmured, absently staring at her, then he remembered what she’d asked. “Do you really care?” he asked. He was annoyed, but not at her. He didn’t like what he was doing to her. What have I become? She didn’t deserve this.

  She rolled onto her side, facing him. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t,” she uttered, pulling the sheet up to her chin.

  She was like a broken china doll, and Judas was fighting the urge not to glue her pieces back together. It wasn’t his place to fix her; she was a mark, nothing else, but he couldn’t shake the fact she were a lot like him—sad, alone, and longing for acceptance from her family.

  He needed to get dirt on her and get the hell out. It had been nearly a week, and he’d had more than enough opportunity. The only reason he’d stayed the night was because Rebecca had begged him, sobbing because she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Out of sheer exhaustion, and another sympathetic lapse, he’d caved.

  Jack was going to be furious. Getting your clients a short sentence was done by who you knew, so connections were key. It was a buddy system and complete bullshit.

  “I’m late for court,” he said, standing and walking to the chair in the corner. His suit was draped over the back; he wasn’t going to have time to go to his penthouse apartment, shower or shave.

  “Will I see you later?” Rebecca asked in a low, apprehensive tone.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  This wasn’t the life he was supposed to be living. He wasn’t the man he wanted to be, and he knew his mother would be disappointed.

  Margaret Anne Woods or as her close friends called her, Maggie, was the sweetest, most innocent woman Judas had ever known. His parents had married young, and Judas was born during their first year of marriage. How his mother was ever attracted to Jack, defied the laws of attraction. Or did it solidify them? Opposites supposedly attracted, and they were two people that couldn’t have been more opposite.

  Jack Woods lived by his pocket book and crooked tactics, and Maggie had lived by her Bible and firm faith in God. She’d had high hopes for Judas, and had always said he was destined to live a brilliant life.

  But she’d been wrong.

  ARRIVING AT THE COURTHOUSE THIRTY-MINUTES late, Judas pulled his e-brake and drifted to the curb. Tires squealed, and attention whipped from pedestrians toward his blacked out BMW as he parked and took the concrete stairs leading to the building two at a time.

  He jogged beneath the stone pillars and slid past the people coming through the doors, before taking a breath and sweeping his hand through his hair and straightening his suit. He didn’t care if the car out front were towed. Good riddance.

  The gift...bribe was just proof that he was weak and incapable of standing up to Jack. Rebecca’s remark about the original tattoo in the middle of his back had him questioning his life again. After he’d succeeded with Alex, Jack had bought him several vehicles, designer suits and a similar apartment to his bachelor space. His Upper East Side apartment cost more than he’d expected to make in a lifetime and came with one hell of a view. Those luxuries, along with his dark hair, chocolate brown eyes and deep complexion offered an edge women craved.

  Supplied by Jacks endless money supply, Judas wanted for nothing. He got to be with the most beautiful and rich women in New York—no strings attached. He had everything, yet he felt as broke and alone as a man on death row. Ruled by Warden Jack Woods.