Blood & Bones: Judge (Blood Fury MC Book 3)

by Jeanne St. James

  “It’s not a little situation and I can’t get a divorce until he signs the damn papers.”

  “Right. And therein lies the problem.” Heather groaned. “I’m so sorry, sis. God, I loved Dennis, too. I thought you two were perfect for each other.”

  “You weren’t the only one. I feel so stupid for not seeing what was right in front of my face.”

  “It wasn’t in front of your face, Cass, so don’t blame yourself. As soon as you realized there was a major problem, you kicked his ass out.”

  “I should’ve sold the house immediately.” She didn’t because she needed a place to raise Daisy, and while she discovered the one problem, she didn’t know about the even bigger one.

  “You didn’t know.”

  “Fuck,” Cassie bit off. “How could I be so blind?”

  “Those types of people know how to hide things well. You’re not the first wife to be duped and you won’t be the last. At least you and Daisy have a roof over your head, and we love having you here.”

  “For now.”

  Heather shrugged again. “For as long as you need.”

  “I’ll go out and start searching for a job.”

  “It’s going to be tough since jobs aren’t plentiful up here, especially ones that pay under the table. I doubt the Amish are hiring since they usually raise their own workforce.”

  “Maybe Daisy and I can go panhandle at the center of town.” Cassie laughed. “She could talk anyone into throwing us a spare dollar.”

  Heather laughed, too. “Not sure the police would like that since they do their best to keep this a family-friendly, wholesome place.”

  “Yeah, and Daisy would be sent up river for resisting arrest. I could see her running from them and screaming ‘fuck the police!’ at the top of her little lungs.”

  Heather bent over, howling.

  Cassie was laughing so hard, she was crying. But it felt good. It had been a long time since she’d been able to simply laugh like that.

  Most of the time she wanted to just sit in a corner and cry. Normally, she was not the self-pity type of person.

  “Mommmmaaa.”

  Cassie wiped the tears away and saw her daughter standing in the open doorway. “Yes, baby?”

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Your momma told a joke,” Heather answered Daisy, moving toward Cassie. “We’ll be right in.”

  Daisy harrumphed like an eighty-year-old woman and disappeared back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

  Heather jerked her into a hug. And while Cassie appreciated her sister’s support, that hug made the happy tears turn sad.

  “It’ll all work out, I promise,” Heather murmured into her hair. “There’s nowhere to go now but up.”

  Cassie sure as hell hoped so.

  Chapter Three

  The front door buzzer sounded and both dogs tore from reclining at Judge’s feet out to the front of the shop in zero-to-sixty seconds flat.

  “Yo! Just me,” came the holler. Not that it was needed, the dogs’ barks were enough of an indicator who was walking in. Right now, they were whining and yipping. If it had been a stranger, their barks would be more serious.

  Judge tipped his office chair back, looked up at the ceiling and blew out a breath. Then he scraped a hand over the freshly buzzed hair on his head.

  Deacon leaned against the door frame to Judge’s office. “Damn, hope you didn’t pay a fuckin’ dime for that buzz job. It’s as short as my nut hairs.”

  “Didn’t think you had any yet. Or that your fuckin’ balls even dropped. The other night Billie was tellin’ me she went to suck ‘em and couldn’t find ‘em.”

  Deke grinned. “Don’t get what she saw in Whip, but whatever. Glad she stuck around. When I’m itchin’ for some weird shit, she’s always into it.”

  “She told me that to find your balls, she needs to jam a finger up your ass.” Judge jabbed one of his thick fingers into the air. “Then she’s gotta hurry up and catch ‘em in her mouth before they disappear back into your vagina.”

  “Damn, look at you usin’ all the big words, like vagina. Can you even spell it?”

  “Yeah. D-E-A-C-O-N.”

  Deke snorted, dropped his head and shook it.

  Jury and Justice pushed past Deke and back into the office. Jury immediately planted her head in Judge’s lap for her required ear scratches.

  Judge never denied her. She was the only steady bitch he ever wanted in his life. She’d never fuck him over like the two-legged kind.

  “Any leads on that asshole?” Judge asked him.

  Deacon moved into the office and dropped onto the couch along the opposite wall, kicking his boots up on the armrest and crossing his ankles. He twisted his head to stare at Judge, while Justice immediately jumped up and settled all eighty pounds of bulldog on Deke’s chest.

  “Damn, dude, how many times I told you, you ain’t a Chihuahua.” But like normal, Deke didn’t push his dog off, instead he wrapped his arms around Justice holding him close. “Just watch the junk,” he warned the dog and turned to Judge again. “Yeah. Talked to a couple people in Williamsport who said they saw him. Gonna head back that way again tomorrow. Plus, gave them my number in case they spot him.”

  “Got three days left to get his ass in front of that judge, Deke.”

  His cousin shot him a thumb’s up and began to ruffle Justice’s ears. “Who’s a goooood boooooy?”

  “You, if you catch that fucker.”

  Deke raised an eyebrow. “Have I ever failed you before?”

  “You wanna fuckin’ list?”

  Deke grimaced and kissed Justice on the nose. The dog, in turn, licked Deke’s mouth.

  “Fuckin’ dude.” Judge fake gagged. “He licks his fuckin’ balls all the time.”

  Deke shot him a smile. “Don’t be a hater.”

  “For him stickin’ his tongue in your mouth? Or for him bein’ able to lick his fuckin’ balls?”

  “Both.”

  “Probably put peanut butter on yours.”

  Deke snorted. “Which is it? I don’t have any, or I have ‘em and make buckeyes outta them?”

  “What the fuck are buckeyes?”

  Deke’s brown eyes went wide. “The peanut butter balls dipped in chocolate... Wait... Mom never made ‘em for you?”

  “If she had, wouldn’t be fuckin’ askin’.”

  Deke grinned and folded his arms under his head. “Well, damn, Mom does like me better.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. Ever get the shits after eatin’ any of those buckeyes? Maybe that’s why she never made ‘em for me. I could be the son she never had.”

  “Damn, that’s fuckin’ cold.”

  “Anyway... Get that motherfucker and drag his ass in. Got a call ‘bout an hour ago from a bail bondsman up in New York.”

  Deke pushed Justice off him and sat up. “For what?”

  “Got a fucker who skipped on him and he figured since we’re licensed to hunt, he’d throw the job our way. White collar crime. Shouldn’t be hard to nab his ass. Can probably find ‘im out in front of Starbucks drivin’ a Volvo.”

  “Why us?”

  “’Cause the wifey also skipped town.”

  Deke shook his head. “Yeah, and?”

  “Yeah, and... She landed in Manning Grove.”

  “So, she’s not on the lam.”

  “No. My guess? She’s here probably puttin’ things in order for him. The bondsman’s figurin’ the hubby might show up soon, if he’s not in town already.”

  “Sounds too easy.”

  “No shit. And he offered twenty fuckin’ percent of the bond if we get his ass. All we gotta do is hold him ‘til the bondsman gets down here to haul him back up to Rochester.”

  “We got nowhere to hold someone.”

  “Sure we do. Not one of the rooms in the bunkhouse out at the farm got windows. We could throw him in an empty room and lock him the fuck in.”

  Deke pursed his lips and ran a hand down his long m
ohawk braid. “Sounds like a plan. Want me to sit on the wifey? Or find the other asshole first?”

  “Door number fuckin’ two. Time’s runnin’ out on him first. We got more time on this new one. But the bondsman’s gonna email the address of the fugitive’s sister-in-law. He’s pretty fuckin’ sure that’s where wifey ended up. I can swing by there later and see what I see. Maybe confirm she’s there and then, if needed, get Easy to sit on the house on overnights.”

  “Easy’s trainin’ with the vet on the Easy Bake Ovens,” Deacon reminded him.

  “Fuck,” Judge growled.

  “Yeah. Someone needs to know what the fuck they’re doin’ when we start...” Deke covered Justice’s ears and whispered, “When we start incineratin’ you-know-whats.” He released the dog’s ears.

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah. Right now, Shady and Easy are learnin’ how to run the furnaces while the state paperwork’s bein’ processed.”

  “How fuckin’ hard can it be?”

  Deke shrugged. “Regulations and shit, I guess. But it’s more than that. Maintenance, required paperwork and other shit, too.”

  Judge’s hand began to rub Jury’s ears even faster at the thought of having her turned to ashes when she...

  Fuck, he wasn’t going to think about it. Not now.

  “Got a name and shit?” Deke asked, switching back to the original topic, since he, like Judge, didn’t like talking about their dogs ever needing to be cremated.

  “He’s emailin’ me all that. Names, pics, along with the address to the house wifey might be holed up in.”

  “How soon?”

  Judge frowned. “Shoulda had it by now.”

  “Did you check your fuckin’ email?”

  Judge cocked an eyebrow at Deke. “That what I gotta do, asshole?”

  Deacon smirked. “Yeah, you gotta open your email to be able to read ‘em.”

  “Thank fuck you’re so fuckin’ smart.”

  “Check. I’m curious what they look like. I can keep an eye open when I’m out and about. And send the pics to everyone else. Just in case. More eyes, the easier it’ll be to spot ‘em.”

  “Was plannin’ to do that already. Don’t act like you’re the only one with a fuckin’ brain in this place,” Judge grumbled as he leaned forward and shook the mouse to his PC and woke up the screen.

  The photo on his desktop screen always made him pause. It was the day he and Deke went to pick out Justice and Jury from the litter. They’d been eight weeks old at the time and cute as fuck.

  Deke had gone to look at the pups after his old Doberman died. For the fuck of it, Judge went along, not planning on coming home with a little girl of his own. It was the best thing he’d done in a long time. He couldn’t imagine life without her now.

  He double clicked his email icon and a full inbox popped up.

  What the fuck? He had like thirty new emails. He hated computers. Deacon was better with them but using one was necessary for the business they were in. So, he suffered through it.

  However, he must have forgotten to check the business email in...

  A week.

  Shit.

  “It there?” Deacon asked.

  Judge quickly scrolled through the junk mail and some random inquiries, until he found the one from the bail bondsman in New York. “Yep.”

  He double clicked the email and it opened, filling his screen. It had a bunch of attachments, which included copies of the bond and all the paperwork. Then in the body of the email it listed some names.

  Fugitive: Dennis LANGE – LKL Rochester, NY.

  Wife: Cassidy LANGE – LKL Manning Grove, PA.

  It also included an address for Heather and Tyler Douglas.

  “So, last known location for the wife is right here in town on Fourth Avenue at the Douglases. Know ‘em?”

  “Nope.” Deacon scratched at his beard. “They on the good side of the tracks?”

  “Yeah.” Manning Grove had a small seedy area on the other side of the tracks. It included a sketchy rooming house. It also was the area Judge had grown up in. At least until he was sixteen. And it was where the Fury-owned Grove Inn was located. The town council had been trying to “clean up” that area for a long time, but it had been a slow-fucking-go. They acted like it was some kind of ghetto when it was only lower income families and more affordable rentals.

  “Pics?”

  “Yeah,” Judge murmured and clicked on the first one. Dennis Lange’s photo popped up large and in living color. He didn’t look like a hard-core criminal. In fact, he was wearing a suit in the mugshot. He clicked another photo and a smaller driver’s license photo popped up. The man had to be in his mid-thirties. His hair was neat, he wore glasses, no tats. Just a typical nine-to-five sucker.

  No prior record, either, from the info Judge skimmed over.

  “Fuck yeah, bet this asshole drives that fuckin’ Volvo, stops at Starbucks every morning, then makes an excuse to work late every night and is dickin’ his secretary.”

  “You can tell all that from his photo?” Deke ribbed.

  “Fuck yeah.” Judge tapped his temple. “Can see right through these assholes. Don’t ever think they’ll get caught ‘til they do. Then they get a high-dollar lawyer and get a fuckin’ slap on the wrist.”

  “Well, he skipped, so thinkin’ it wasn’t gonna be a slap on the wrist. More like a slap on the ass when he’s bendin’ over and takin’ it up the poop shoot in the joint.”

  “Yeah, he probably don’t like dick up the ass. From the pic, it looks like there’s a stick up there already takin’ up all that tight real estate. Damn. Virgin ass. No wonder he skipped. Wasn’t ready to get his ass cherry popped.”

  “And if he’s a pretty boy, he probably would.”

  “You’re better at judgin’ that than me,” Judge murmured, closing the pictures and double-clicking on the next one marked C. Lange.

  The large color photo opened, and Judge’s head jerked back, his mouth opened and he blinked.

  What the fuck?

  What the fuck!

  Holy fuck!

  Bright blue eyes stared back at him.

  He shifted the photo over a little with his mouse and glanced again at the email.

  Wife: Cassidy LANGE – LKL Manning Grove, PA.

  Wife.

  Cassidy Lange.

  Last known location: Manning Grove, PA.

  No fucking shit.

  Wife.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands automatically went back to Jury’s blocky head. She groaned in encouragement as he rubbed her ears.

  The woman he saw in town was fucking with his head. Shouldering in on his thoughts.

  The woman who caused him to cancel his “fuck date” last night because she was what he wanted, not Billie.

  Because...

  She...

  Fuck.

  He opened his eyes again and wasn’t imagining it. Was he?

  “Deke.” Deacon’s name got caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “Deacon.”

  “Yeah?”

  “C’mere and tell me if I’m hallucinatin’.”

  “You toke some spiked shit earlier?”

  “Ain’t toked a fuckin’ thing all day.”

  “Bad Chinese?” His cousin surged to his feet and strode over to the desk.

  “Ain’t eaten shit yet.”

  “Maybe your blood sugar’s low,” Deacon suggested with a snort as he stepped around the desk. “Big asshole like you— Oh fuuuuck.”

  “You seein’ what I’m seein’?” Because in the last three days he’d been thinking about her a lot.

  A. Lot.

  Like close his eyes and nut in his Fleshlight, pretending it was the blonde’s tight, wet pussy a lot.

  Like whacking off in the shower to fantasies of those tits and ass a lot.

  He’d been pretty much obsessed with her since the second he saw her in the municipal parking lot on Sunday.

  And seeing her again in fr
ont of Walmart hadn’t helped.

  But now he had a good reason to let that obsession—and hope of getting a piece of that—go.

  Damn.

  Having a kid was baggage but like the carry-on size.

  Having a kid and a husband was also baggage, but like a whole luggage set.

  Having a kid and a bail-skipping husband was a shipping container full of shit. And of the loose diarrhea type. The kind you needed a half roll of toilet paper to wipe up.

  “Well, there’s the real reason you struck out, cuz. Wasn’t your ugly mug and monster size. She ain’t interested in your baby carrot dick ‘cause she’s already gettin’ it elsewhere. Or she was before he got popped.” Deacon leaned past him, grabbed the mouse and clicked on the court documents. “What he get busted for?” The document opened, blocking Cassidy Lange’s, wife of Dennis Lange, picture.

  Wife of Dennis the felon.

  Judge skimmed the document.

  “Oh damn,” Deke murmured.

  Judge sat back in his chair.

  “There’s low and then there’s goin’-to-hell low. This fucker’s gonna burn.”

  Judge brushed his palm slowly back and forth over the top of his head thinking the same thing.

  “Wonder what happened to all the money?” Deke took a step back, then moved around to the other side of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Want this job, Judge.”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, wanna catch this fucker. I’d even do it for free.”

  “No. We ain’t doin’ shit for free.”

  “Catchin’ this fucker might keep me outta hell.”

  “It won’t. Too late for either of us.”

  Deke blew out a breath. “Think she was in on it?”

  Jesus. If she was... “Dunno. But gonna find out.”

  “Let me take it,” he insisted.

  “Got a job to finish first.”

  “Then I’m headin’ back to Williamsport tonight and gonna hunt that fucker down so I can hop on this motherfucker.”

  “Shoulda been doin’ that in the first place, you asshole,” Judge growled at his cousin.

  “Wasn’t in a rush.”

  “You had three fuckin’ days left, Deke.”

  “Yeah, three days. Plenty of time.”

  Judge shot him a look.

  Deke shrugged and shot him a smile back. “Got motivation now.”