by Krane, Kasey
I stood back and admired my handiwork. Finally, the caps were on, the cords hanging down on the right side, the robes were straight, and my guys were handsome. “A girl just might take a shine to you two,” I said, smiling, and then added, “Well, at least one of you,” and winked at Judge. He grinned down at me, laughing, and gave me an impromptu (if careful) kiss, making sure not to knock caps, while Bishop huffed with pretended indignation.
I looped my arms through both of theirs and dragged them over to wait with the rest of the high school graduating class. Bishop spotted Melissa, his crush of the week, and hightailed over to her, leaving Judge and me alone. Well, relatively alone, considering their fellow graduating class surrounding us.
“Well Carmen, we made it. Can you believe it? We’re finally finished with this fucking school.” He grinned with relief and happiness and I grinned back.
“And this fucking town,” I added. “I mean, Deming is fine and whatever, but I’ll be so happy when we move to California. I can’t wait to go to Stanford. No more cacti, no more rednecks who need to take off their boots to count to twenty, and no more heat waves of 115 degrees. Paradise is what that is.”
“Stanford?” Judge repeated, seeming to have missed everything I said after that. “California? I thought we were going to go to New Mexico State University here. That’s only a couple of hours away from Deming, so I can come back home and help James and Bishop out with the club on the weekends or whenever.”
“Well, sure, I applied to ASU and I know we both got in, but I didn’t think we’d actually go there,” I said, confused. “I thought we were just applying there to make your dad happy.”
“And I thought we were applying to Stanford to make your dad happy,” Judge snapped back, the tips of his ears growing red. I saw the warning sign but plunged ahead anyway. I wasn’t about to back down from one of the most important discussions of my life because of some red ears, dammit.
“You’re actually being serious?” I said, aghast. “Las Cruces. Las Cruces, New Mexico? You expect me to go to school in Las Cruces, New Mexico??” I tried not to shout, but it was hard to contain myself. Judge had decided to wait until graduation night to spring this shit on me?! “And who the fuck cares how close we are to Deming - you can’t possibly be serious about continuing as a Dead Legion after graduation. It’s just a—” I waved my hand around in the air, as if that completed that thought.
“It’s just a what?” Judge repeated in a low, threatening tone of voice. “Just a passing phase for me? Something I’ll grow out of?”
I swallowed, hard. Maybe I had been a little too ready to believe my dad when he’d made those comments. Maybe I had because I’d wanted the words to be true.
“The Dead Legion are my family, Carmen,” he said, and I flinched at his use of my first name. He never called me Carmen. “James has been more of a father to me than my own father could ever dream to be. James loves me for who I am. James accepts me. There are no strings attached with his love. There are no ‘if’ statements. He doesn’t love me because I am continuing the Michaelson lineage. He doesn’t love me because he wants cheap labor. He loves me for me. And Bishop is my brother, more than Samuel ever could be. Let my dad have Samuel. He can continue the family business and the family name and everything else that means so fucking much to my manipulative asshole of a father. I can be who I want to be in the Dead Legion. I can be me!”
He was breathing hard and the room full of 250 graduating seniors and their teachers were silent and I realized that I never should’ve ignored the red ears. Everyone was staring and my face was flaming hot and then Bishop was there, standing next to Judge. Always next to Judge. Taking Judge away from me. And for the first time, I hated Bishop. I hated his easy smile and his laughter and his thoughtful nature because if he wasn’t such a good goddamn guy, Judge wouldn’t have chosen him over me. Judge wouldn’t have decided to stay in Deming.
“Fine, choose your little club,” I spat. “Your little club and your little friend and your little town. I’ve got a graduation to attend and a town to get the hell out of.”
I stalked to the back of the quietly forming line, happy for once that Michaelson and Williams were nowhere near each other alphabetically. I held my head high and ignored the pitying glances.
I was going to walk across a stage, get a piece of a paper, and then never look back.
Never.
* * *
I opened my eyes to find Turbo licking my face and Judge staring down at me with worry in his eyes. “Everything all right? You look…upset. Is your head hurting you?” He reached out to touch my bandage and I raised my hand to bat it away - to push him away because I didn’t want his goddamn pity - but instead, somehow I found my hand curled around his arm, pulling it close. Pressing his palm against my cheek. I lay with my eyes closed and took some deep breaths.
And decided to lie. Because there was no way to fix this chasm between us, so why bring it up? It would only hurt the fragile happiness we had built.
“Just…remembering,” I finally said, opening my eyes, and Judge’s eyes went soft with worry. I knew he thought I was talking about the Sangre kidnapping.
That wasn’t a lie, that was simply…misleading. There’s a difference.
He stroked my hair and said softly, “Let me get up and make breakfast. You just take it easy this morning.”
His response made me feel even guiltier as I heard him banging around in the kitchen. I got Turbo’s brush out of the cabinet in the hallway where I’d spotted it yesterday while looking for towels, and spent some time just brushing Turbo, over and over again, until his coat was clean and he was blissfully happy and his brush was full of black and gray hairs.
“Carmen, breakfast is ready!” Judge called out, and I patted Turbo on the head.
“Time to go eat, buddy,” I told him. “Thanks for hanging out with me.” He jumped off the bed and then hobbled off towards the kitchen, his joints obviously stiff. It was hard to think that someday—
I cut that thought off. I had lost enough people in my life. I didn’t need to go looking for trouble.
As we were finishing up yet another amazing breakfast from Chef Judge as I teasingly called him - his ears turned red when I said it but this time with embarrassment, not anger - we heard a knock on the front door. Judge checked his phone. “No one called me so it must be a Carmen Devil out on the front porch. The guards would’ve called me otherwise. Hang out here - I’ll be right back.”
Turbo trotted behind Judge, happy to find a new person to pet him, and I listened from the kitchen as I heard Judge greet Bishop and…was that Jules’s voice?
“Hi, lady!” Jules said from the doorway of the kitchen, and then came over to give me a hug. I could hear the guys still talking in low voices out in the foyer, but Jules’s voice drowned them out. “Bishop is calling a meeting of the Dead Legion, so I thought I’d come over here and hang out with you while they’re gone doing motorcycle…” she waved her hand in the air, “things.”
“Hey, Carmen,” Judge said, coming into the kitchen. “I gotta run, but the three guards will stay here, and so will Jules. Please, you two, don’t dream up any conspiracies to take over the world. I promise I’ll be back soon.”
With a kiss on my head that sent a shiver down her spine, Judge left with Bishop. “I see Turbo has already realized that Carmen’s got a prettier mug than your ugly—” The front door closed, shutting out Bishop’s good-natured ribbing of Judge. Turbo curled up on top of my feet and promptly went to sleep. Jules and I both looked down at him and then up at each other and burst out laughing. “I like to take it as a compliment,” I said drily. “Like Bishop said, maybe Turbo knows which of us is the prettier one.”
I winked at Jules, who said with a wicked laugh, “I’ve always thought of Judge as a pretty boy, but I suppose Turbo is more interested in the female variety.” We grinned at each other and then Jules settled down at a swing-out chair while I cleaned up the kitchen from our breakfa
st. After I had carefully shuffled my feet out from underneath Turbo’s sleeping form, of course.
“So, what’s the deal between you and Judge?” Jules asked. “A kiss on the top of the head isn’t drop-dead sexy, but it isn’t nothing, either. Are you two hooking up?”
I made an exaggerated grimace at Jules. “I wish I knew. I really don't know what to think. Did Bishop tell you how we met?”
When Jules shook her head, I said, “Come to think of it, Bishop may not know. He wasn’t there that night. It’s probably the only time they were ever apart for all of high school.
“Anyway, my dad was getting remarried in our backyard - his one and only shot at marriage after my mother divorced him - when this tall, blond, cute-as-shit guy started hitting on me. I was born here in Deming and went to school here until the end of third grade, but then my dad enrolled me in private boarding schools back east and I pretty much never saw Deming again. Even during school breaks, I was usually off on a grand adventure somewhere. I didn’t know a soul here.
“So here comes this guy, who, even in my high heels, towered over me, and he started hitting on me, and I’ll admit I was more than a little drunk at that point. I was 17, but all the waiters knew it was my dad getting married and didn’t dare tell me no. I could be a brat back then.” I winked at Jules and we both laughed. “Only back then, of course. I’m sweet as pie now.” I fluttered my eyelashes innocently and we both started laughing again.
It was damn fun being around Jules. She was the kind of person who naturally brought out my playful side, a part of me that not everyone saw. I was surprised that I was able to relax so quickly in Jules’s presence, but there was just something about her.
“Anyway, so it wasn’t until weeks later that I found out that Judge was actually Timmy Michaelson—”
“TIMMY?!” Jules broke in, squealing with laughter. “No wonder Bishop wouldn’t tell me his name!”
“What?” I asked, confused.
“I asked Bishop what Judge’s real name was, and Bishop refused to tell me. The one thing he’s flat-out refused to talk about. Oh my God, that’s hilariously horrible. What kind of a badass motorcycle gang member is named ‘Timmy’??” She burst out laughing again.
I couldn’t help but laugh too, but also got a little panicky. “It is an awful nickname - only his family calls him that. But, Jules, you can’t! Promise me you won’t. Judge’d kill me. Even I don’t call him that.”
Jules’s laughter finally trailed off. “Okay, I promise,” she said, trying to be solemn but failing miserably. “But truly, that’s epic. Please continue with your story - you two met at your dad’s wedding.”
“Well, so Judge and I spent the summer together and I’d fallen pretty hard for him, so I begged Dad to let me spend my senior year at Copper High School instead of going back to boarding school. I gave him this whole bullshit story about how I wanted to get to know my stepmother better, but I don’t think he fell for that. I think he just didn’t know how to say no to me.” I grinned at Jules mischievously. “It’s possible I used that weakness to my advantage as a teenager.
“But, graduation night, Judge and I broke up. It was…awful. After I walked across the stage, I vowed to leave Deming and never come back, in that very dramatic fashion that only teenagers indulge in, and took off for Stanford in California. I got my teaching degree there. After that, I spent the school year teaching in low-income schools in the US and then abroad, and then have spent my summers traveling the world. It’s been fun, but…” I bit my lower lip, staring down at the countertop, drawing circles over the granite, “I missed Judge more than I’d expected to.”
“Bishop told me that your break-up tore Judge to pieces,” Jules said quietly, serious for the first time since she’d arrived. “That’s why Bishop is so protective of Judge, and anti-you,” she said with a soft chuckle. “He just doesn’t know if he can trust you. Family means more than anything in the world to Bishop, and Judge is his brother. The Miller’s practically adopted Judge, and Mary, his mom, still calls Judge ‘Sonny.’ Did you know that?”
I shook my head. “No, but I’m not surprised. I didn’t hang out with the Miller’s a lot that last year of high school - Judge and I were too busy making out every free chance we had - but I could see that Judge loved them more than his own parents and younger brother. He said one time that Bishop was his ‘brother of the heart,’ which I’d thought was a damn deep thing for a 17-year-old boy to say.”
We smiled at each other quietly for a moment. I knew that Jules would be my friend forever then. The jury was still out on me and Judge, but when it came to me and Jules…there was no going back.
So I took a deep breath and said my deepest, darkest worry out loud. “Bishop…he’s probably right not to trust me. Judge and I are facing all of the same problems that we were 13 years ago; it’s just that this time, we’re a little older. A little more mature. But the problems are just as real, and I have no idea if we’re going to be able to work them out. I keep telling myself that I should protect my heart, that I shouldn’t allow myself to fall in love with Judge again, but Jules—” my voice broke, “it’s so damn hard. I never got over Judge, either. I mean, I dated a little here and there, but it never got serious. I never found anyone who I loved like I’d loved Judge, and I wasn’t going to settle for ‘okay’ when I’d known ‘great.’”
We sat in silence for a moment, staring off into space, until I finally spoke again, making an obvious attempt to change the subject. “So, tell me about you and Bishop.” And then before Jules could even open up her mouth to respond, I kept going. “Can I just tell you, in high school, Bishop would date any cute girl with a pulse. Seriously. I always figured he’d end up with some dumb blonde.”
Realizing what I’d said, I clapped my hand over my mouth as I laughed in embarrassment. Jules laughed too, obviously not offended. “But,” I said quickly, “Bishop got lucky and ended up with some smart red head. There, did I pull my foot out of my mouth fast enough??”
Jules laughed again and brushed her red hair behind her ears. “Well,” she said in a horrible imitation of a southern belle, “all I had to do was flutter my little eyelashes at him, and he just came a-running.”
We burst out laughing again, and I realized that I hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. It was wonderful.
“No, really, Bishop and I met when I came to Deming to do an article on the Dead Legion. Have you ever heard of Blush Magazine?” It was my turn to shake my head. “Well, it’s this fashion magazine in New York City that hired me right out of college. Sons of Anarchy is big, so my editor wanted to do a feature on a motorcycle gang. He’s actually from Deming - maybe you know him? Dan Smith? He’s like four years your senior.”
“No, I only attended Deming High School my senior year, so I never met anyone who graduated before me.”
“Oh, right. Of course. Anyway, so Evan was from around here and thought that the Dead Legion would be the perfect motorcycle club to do a piece on.
“As you might imagine, Bishop was an asshole from the moment we met. If I’d been able to reach high enough, I would’ve clocked him over the head with something heavy. And sharp. But the more we talked, the more I realized that he wasn’t a Caveman Special. Appearances can be deceiving.” She grinned at me. “So, I gave my notice to Blush and actually, I just sent off that article for them, making them officially something I never have to worry about again. I decided to write motorcycle gang novels instead, because all you need there is an internet connection and I think even Deming has found the internet.” We laughed together, and then I stood up.
“I think we ought to splurge and drink a little wine while we hang out. Do you drink white or red?” I dug around in the fridge, looking for some bottles to pull out.
“White, please,” Jules said, standing up to find the wine glasses.
Wine poured, we moved to the living room and settled back into the couch to chat some more. I wondered for a moment if Bishop had any id
ea how lucky he was to find Jules; if he realized how far past his pay grade he managed to reach. Jules was gorgeous, funny, and smart as hell. If Bishop knew what was good for him, he’d hold on with both hands and never let her go.
18
Judge
Bishop brought the gavel down, bringing the bullshitting around the table to stop. I was sitting to Bishop’s right as his VP. It was only the second meeting of the Dead Legion since Ghost had been killed, and I was still trying to wrap my mind around what a difference Bishop had brought to the table. Sure, we were a lot smaller now - half your MC leaving will do that to a club - but there was a deeper loyalty there that just hadn’t been present with Ghost in charge.
“Knight and I went to Mexico yesterday with Juan Carlos as our translator,” Bishop said, jumping right to the important shit. He wasn’t one to fuck around, especially with something important on the line. “We questioned Miguel, the spineless piece-of-shit bastard who sold out Carmen and those girls.” He also wasn’t one to beat around the bush…
“He told Carmen a long time ago about this fishing place he loved to go to on his days off, which makes him a spineless piece-of-shit dumbass bastard for choosing to hide there when shit got real.” The Dead Legion laughed and Bishop quirked his mouth too, but quickly got serious. “Knight…convinced him to talk. Just like we thought, he was in on it. The Sangre had paid him to pull the bus over without any fuss, and them bashing him over the head with the butt of a gun was all for show. He was awake for the whole damn thing, just lying on the floor of the bus and pretending to be unconscious, letting those girls get taken.
