Pall Malls + Poetry // Judd Birch x OC/Reader

You couldn't lose me if you tried

Emily sat up on the corner of a table in Val Bilzerian's basement, chewing on her nails, watching Judd and Maggie shoot striped and solid balls across a pool table. Val had backed off of her since taking a punch from Judd in the nose, and the two had seemingly repaired their very loose friendship.

She and Judd were here for a reason. A very specific reason that had Emily on edge every time she thought about it — and she always thought about it.

"Long story short," Judd said as another ball rolled into pocket, "we have to off Em's stepdad. He's fucking trash."

Simply hearing him say such a thing out loud, and in the presence of others, made Emily sick with anticipation. Neither Val nor Maggie flinched.

"God, do you have to be so blunt about it?" She said, still unsure as to why Judd insisted they involve these two in the first place.

"Speaking of blunt..." Val stuck a freshly rolled one between his lips and took the first hit, handing it to Emily after and then continuing. "You know a lot about art, right? Well, murder is a form of art, too. And no one in this town is as good at it as the Bilzerians."

Through a haze of cannabis, Judd gave Emily a look as if to say, "He's right, you know."

And he was. Everyone knew that Guy Bilzerian had hitmen on speed dial, though they'd never be able to prove it. He had ex-wives go missing before divorce settlements often enough, and witnesses had a funny habit of hanging themselves before trial.

"What'd he do that's so bad you want to see him dead?" Maggie asked. She seemed to be more focused on the game of pool in front of her, as if she'd grown accustomed to whatever guts and gore happened in this house.

The room fell oddly silent as they waited for Emily to answer. Eventually, all of their eyes fell on her, and hers moved to Judd's as a means of support. Judd had never asked her the extent of her abuse. To him, it didn't matter. Maybe part of him didn't even want to know out of fear that it'd send him into a frenzy.

"He's a rapist." She said, then watched Judd's jaw clench and Maggie's eyes grow wide. "Not me. He hasn't gone to that extent... yet. But I know of one other victim, and he's been building up to it. So..."

Judd's shaky fingers took the blunt from Emily's hand, desperately needing the high to calm him down before he did something irrational. "I don't know why you won't just let me put two in the back of his head like I've offered."

"Because it's sloppy. I don't want you getting life without the possibility of parole all because my mom has poor choice in men." She replied.

He rolled his eyes, knowing she was right.

"What do you guys want then, a hit man? I can ask my dad for a recommendation. He might even help with the cost if you flash him a tit or two, Em."

Judd had been bent over the pool table, one eye closed as he lined up his shot. Val had a good way of getting under his skin, and when he mentioned another old man in a position of power feeling up his girlfriend, Judd couldn't help but to stand straight up and bite his tongue.

He tossed the pool stick down on the table, no longer interested in the game, and fixed himself right between Emily and Val. "We're more interested in where to get rid of a body."

An impressed smile spread across Val's face. "Damn. I always assumed you'd end up in Murderpedia, Judd. But you, Em." He leaned away from the table, peering past the body that separated him from the girl. "You really think you can stomach it? All that blood and guts, seeing the light fade out of his eyes."