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

by Jeanne St. James

  “Sometimes lies are necessary,” Judge said more quietly.

  Cassidy nodded. “And sometimes those lies come back to bite you on the ass.”

  That was fucking true, too.

  The crunch of tires on stones caught their attention and it was hard to ignore the bright spotlight being shone on them both.

  Christ. Just what he needed.

  He braced as the black-and-white cruiser stopped at a location where the spotlight blinded him.

  Goddamn pigs.

  He fucking hated that he had to make nice with them. But he did.

  The spotlight went dark and the cruiser slowly moved forward until it was next to him with the driver’s side window down.

  Inside were two of Manning Grove’s finest, Leah Bryson and Tommy Dunn. He knew them both well since they’d been on the force a while. Unfortunately, Judge knew the whole force better than he’d like.

  “Leah. Dunn,” Judge reluctantly greeted them.

  “Judge,” Leah greeted back from the passenger seat. “What’s going on here?”

  He jerked his chin toward Cassidy. “She’s new in town and got lost.”

  “Yeah?” the redheaded Dunn asked. “Heard the club sold this property a while ago. Reason you’re standing on it?”

  “Like I said, Cassidy got lost and I was helping her get turned around.”

  “That right, ma’am?” he called out of the open window.

  Cassidy moved closer. “Yes, that’s right. I’m only learning my way around town and somehow, I ended up here. I’m heading home soon.”

  “Pretty late, Judge,” Leah said.

  He ducked down and caught her eyes. Was he suddenly sixteen again? He was fucking thirty-seven years old and didn’t need to be in bed by a certain time. “Sure is. Was headin’ home when I saw her, so figured she needed help.”

  Leah’s eyes slid from him back to Cassidy. After a few minutes they sliced back to Judge. “Why is she crying?”

  “Why do any women fuckin’ cry?” Judge asked her.

  Leah’s lips twitched and she pressed her hand to her rounded belly over her maternity uniform shirt. “I have a good reason.”

  “Brysons keep having babies, Dunn, you’re gonna lose your damn job. They’re gonna turn it into the Bryson PD.”

  Dunn huffed, “I’ll be retired before all their kids are old enough. They want to do this thankless job, more power to them.”

  “Turnin’ out to be a clan like the Shirleys.”

  “Hey now,” Leah Bryson said.

  Judge snorted. “Okay, you all ain’t inbred, so you got that on ‘em.”

  “You going to be okay, ma’am?” Leah called out of her window.

  Cassidy lifted a hand. “Yes, thank you. I’ll be fine.”

  “He looks bad to the bone on the outside, but he’s just a sweet little kitten on the inside,” Dunn yelled out to her. Then he laughed and put the cruiser into reverse. “Head home, Judge,” he said much more seriously.

  Judge did not like being told what to do by someone wearing a fucking uniform. But he bit back what he wanted to say and said, “That’s the plan,” instead. Even though he had no plan to head home. At least, not yet. He wasn’t a kid anymore, he no longer needed to stick to any curfew. So, Dunn could go fuck himself.

  Then the cruiser was gone and the two of them were bathed in the dark once more.

  “How do you know my name?” came from behind him.

  Jesus fuck. He screwed up. “Told it to me when Daisy introduced us.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  He turned to face her. “Yeah, you did. How else would I know it?”

  Cassidy chewed on her bottom lip as she studied him in the dark. “Are you stalking me? Should I be calling those cops back here?”

  “Like I fuckin’ said, ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  “I’m sure serial killers tell their victims that, too.”

  His lips flattened out.

  “If I would have told you my name, I would have said Cassie. No one calls me Cassidy except my parents. And my grandparents, when they were alive.”

  Cassie. Fuck.

  “So, you want to tell me how you know my name?”

  Sometimes lies are necessary.

  And sometimes those lies come back to bite you on the ass.

  Suddenly, sharp teeth gripped his ass cheek. “Small town. Everybody knows everybody.”

  She tilted her head. “No, that isn’t it.”

  “Yeah, it is. I asked around.”

  “Why?”

  “Asked you twice and you didn’t answer.”

  “Maybe there was a reason for that.”

  “Afraid of me, that’s why.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I could lie like you are right now and say I’m not.”

  “But you are.”

  “I just...”

  “What’d I do to make you scared?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Right,” he said softly.

  “So, even if it was true that you asked around about me, why would you do that?” she asked.

  “Just curious.”

  “What else did you hear?”

  “Nothin’,” he echoed her.

  “Bullshit,” she repeated his earlier response. Then she gave him a sharp nod and headed back to her Honda. And Judge watched her hips rock and roll even in that winter coat.

  “Wanna tell me why you were cryin’?” he called out.

  “If you tell me the truth on how you know my name,” she called back.

  Judge stood there and watched Cassie climb into the old CRV.

  Cassie.

  “Tell you over a beer.”

  “I don’t drink beer.” Her door slammed shut and she drove the Honda in a circle and headed out of the lot.

  Cassie Lange.

  Only problem with that was the last name belonged to someone else.

  And the person it belonged to probably wouldn’t be happy that Judge wanted way more than to share a beer with Cassie Lange.

  Way fucking more.

  Chapter Five

  Cassie opened the heavy wood door and stepped inside.

  She had seen the ad in the local penny shopper looking for servers or a bartender. She’d never done either, but she was pretty sure she could learn.

  She’d prefer to get a job at the local vet and use her skills, but she knew there’d be no way the vet would pay her under the table. And that was what she needed, a job that could pay her cash for now. At least until the divorce.

  Until she scraped off all of Dennis’s shit.

  Until then, her job prospects were limited.

  She only hoped the owner of the bar would be willing to pay her in cash along with any cash tips she made.

  It would be something. And anything she made, even a little bit, would be better than nothing. She needed to put cash aside so she could settle somewhere by getting her own place and finding somewhere to raise her daughter without the stench of the crime Daisy’s father committed.

  She could never take Daisy back to Rochester.

  If she could get a permanent job in Manning Grove, she’d consider staying. If not, she’d move on. In the meantime, she needed money and a plan. And right now, she had neither.

  To make things more difficult, she needed shifts in the evening and weekends when Tyler or Heather could watch Daisy for her. She hated to burden them with that, too, but right now, she had no choice.

  She let her gaze slide through the bar. The music in Crazy Pete’s was loud. It was surprisingly busy for a Thursday night and the tables were about half full. A couple of guys were throwing darts in one corner, and, in another area off the main floor, were two occupied pool tables. The clack of pool balls could be heard just over the music, which was rock.

  Cassie recognized the song. Gimme Shelter by the Rolling Stones. She hadn’t heard that song in so long, it made the corners of her mouth curl up just slightly.

  A man was hustling behin
d the bar and a woman with long black hair and blue stripes, dressed like she belonged on the small empty stage in the corner singing her own song, was carrying a couple of full pint glasses to a table near the jukebox.

  The woman’s open smile was large as she set them down, said a few words to the patrons, then laughed. She patted one guy on the shoulder before heading back behind the bar.

  Cassie had no idea who the owner was, the ad had only said to show up anytime they were open. No resume needed.

  One empty stool remained along the long wood bar, so she headed there, settling on it.

  The bartender quickly stopped in front of her and tilted his head. “New in town, right?”

  What? How did he know that?

  “Saw you on Sunday. You and your girl. Ended up talkin’ to Judge.”

  Jesus, she couldn’t escape that man.

  Cassie’s eyes slid over him. While she didn’t recognize his face, she recognized the black leather vest he was wearing since it was similar to Judge’s. Only his name patch said, “Dodge,” instead.

  Dodge.

  That was odd. But then so was the name Judge.

  “Yes. That was me.”

  “Girl’s real cute. Just like her momma. What can I get you?” He threw a paper coaster on the bar top in front of her and it was hard to miss some of his tattoos. Heavy silver rings donned a few fingers and wide black leather cuffs circled each wrist. She also couldn’t miss the huge bulky belt buckle that consisted of two letters: HD.

  “The owner.”

  He pulled his chin into his neck and just about looked down his nose at her. “There an issue?”

  “No, I... I saw the ad. I’m looking for a job.”

  He loosened a bit as he repeated, “What can I get you?”

  “I... I don’t... Water?”

  Dodge shook his head and tapped a ringed finger on the shellacked bar top. “Nah. It’s a bar. Beer?”

  “I don’t drink beer.”

  “Whiskey?” he suggested, his dark eyes twinkling.

  “I don’t,” the rest of the words spilled out from her quickly, “have any money.” Heat slid up her throat and into her cheeks. “Dodge, right? I just need to speak to whoever’s in charge.”

  “Yeah. Dodge.” He jerked his chin to the black-haired woman who was wearing a long-sleeved tee advertising Crazy’s Pete’s Bar. “Stel’s half owner.”

  “Who owns the other half?”

  “Our club. Blood Fury.”

  Blood Fury was what the patches said on the back of Judge’s vest. “Then who is Crazy Pete?” Was that Stella’s husband?

  “Stella’s pop. Died from cancer a coupla years ago.”

  Shit. She might not get this job if the owner figured out what Dennis had done.

  “So, she does the hiring?”

  “For the most part. Or Trip.”

  Good lord, she just needed to talk to someone about a job. “Who’s Trip?”

  “Her ol’ man. Prez of the club.”

  This was all information she wasn’t sure she needed to know, especially since one of the owners was on the premises. “Can I speak with her?”

  “Dunno. Can you?” His lips twitched. He turned and bellowed, “Stella!” He then moved away, grabbing a bottle of Captain Morgan and pouring a healthy amount into a glass before filling it with soda the rest of the way. He set it down in front of her, one side of his mouth pulling up slightly as he gave her a wink. He was really handsome, and he knew it. Unlike Judge’s long bushy beard, Dodge’s didn’t hide his face. It was trimmed close. “On my tab. I’ll get ‘er.”

  “Thank you.” Cassie lifted the glass and took a sip, doing her best not to cough. It was stronger than she normally drank. She was more of a wine drinker, anyway.

  “Hey,” came a deep voice from next to her.

  To her right sat a man staring at her. “Hi.”

  “You from around here?” The dark-haired man, wearing a very worn flannel shirt, leaned closer, the whiskey on his breath smelling stronger than her drink.

  “I—”

  “Hey,” came out on a breath from the black-haired woman as she stopped in front of her on the other side of the bar. She glanced at the patron sitting next to Cassie. “She’s here for a job interview, not to be picked up, Lenny.”

  Lenny shrugged and grinned, showing off his dozen remaining teeth. “Can’t hurt to be friendly.”

  The woman jutted out her hand over the bar. “I’m Stella. Dodge said you saw the ad.”

  “Yes. I—” Cassie noticed Lenny still staring at her. Leering, more like it.

  Stella pressed her lips together and then jerked her head. “C’mon. We’ll find an empty table to talk. Bring your drink.”

  Cassie grabbed the glass, climbed off the stool and waited for the slender woman to make her way out around the bar. Then she followed Stella to a table in the back by the stage, where less people were.

  “Sit.”

  Cassie sat.

  “Business is picking up and we need help. But to be upfront, I own half this bar, my ol’ man’s club owns the other half. So, you’d be basically working for an MC. Do you have a problem with that?”

  “An MC?”

  “Motorcycle club.”

  Ah, yes. There had been a square “MC” patch on the back of Judge’s vest, too. “Should I?”

  Stella smiled and it reached her light blue eyes, which were stunning, especially in contrast with her long black hair. “No. We run a tight ship, doing our best to make it successful. It’s not a biker bar, just owned by a bunch of bikers. So, it’s safe. It’s getting to be more successful and I’m starting to need more help. Which is why I ran the ad, of course.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Dodge is a member of the MC, lives upstairs and helps me manage the bar. So, you’d have to listen to him, too.”

  Cassie’s eyes slid back to the bar where Dodge was still hustling, keeping everyone’s drink full. “He lives upstairs?”

  “Yes, so if you ever need help, he can be down here in a flash. Have you ever been a server before?”

  “No.”

  Stella frowned. “Well, this isn’t a fancy place, so it’s really not hard. You just need to get everyone’s drink order right and get it to them quickly. They aren’t the biggest tippers in here, but it’s something. Do you know how to bartend?”

  “No.”

  “Are you willing to learn?”

  Cassie nodded. “Yes. But...”

  Stella lifted a brow. “But?”

  “I... also need to be upfront about something.”

  Stella sat back in her chair. “Ooookay...”

  Cassie leaned in a bit and lowered her voice even though she was sure no one could hear them over the music. “I’m kind of in a bind.”

  Stella’s lips turned down at the corners.

  Cassie attempted to swallow the lump in her throat. “I was hoping... I’m looking for employment that could pay me in cash.”

  The woman’s frown deepened. “Are you on the run or something?”

  “No.” Not in the way one might think. She was not running from the law but from people who judged her harshly because of her husband’s deeds. “I... I’m in the middle of a divorce and without getting into details... My husband’s accounts were frozen and because we were still legally married, so were mine. He...”

  Stella raised a hand. “Say no more. All of us have baggage.” Her frown smoothed out. “Typically tips around here are paid in cash since not too many people pay with credit cards. Even so, I don’t have a problem paying you in cash... For as long as you need... I mean, as long as you work out here. But I haven’t hired you yet.”

  “I know. But I would appreciate a chance. It’s hard to find a place to work where I can earn cash. And right now, that’s important. Truthfully, I’m a certified vet tech and I’d prefer to find a job in my field...”

  “But you’re screwed until your divorce is finalized. I get it. I went through a divorce. It’s not easy, I know.�
�� Stella gave her a crooked smile. “I also know how hard it is to get back on your feet when life cuts you off at the knees. I don’t have a problem training you. I trained Dodge. And he has enough experience now to help you, too.” Stella’s smile widened. “Plus, you look smart enough to mix a rum and coke or pour a draft beer. Not too many people ask for anything fancy in here. If they want fancy, they go to the hotel bar on the square or a fancy restaurant. That isn’t us. We serve more locals than anyone and, for the most part, everyone knows each other and is friendly.”

  “That sounds perfect.” Now, she just hoped she’d be hired. She crossed her fingers under the table as she waited.

  “I can’t hire you full-time yet. But maybe part-time and you can work for tips. I can also slip you a bit of cash under the table, if that’s what you need, but that would need to remain between us, of course.”

  “Yes, that’s what I need,” she breathed in relief. At least until the divorce was final and she could start from scratch again. “Are the tips better bartending?”

  “Maybe not better, but you’d get tipped more often since most people sit at the bar. So, we can train you for both. Plus, Dodge tends to close almost every night and he needs a break. As soon as the club recruits some more prospects, we both should be able to get that break. Then we’d depend more on you and the prospects. You okay with that?”

  Cassie’s knee bounced under the table in her excitement of getting a chance to start making some money. “Yes. I appreciate the opportunity. I have a daughter—”

  Stella’s narrowed blue eyes hit hers. “You were the one walking across the parking lot with your little girl.”

  “Yes. Daisy. I’m staying at my sister’s right now and they can watch her evenings and weekends. Those are the hours I’m looking for, if possible.”

  “Perfect. Those are typically the busiest times and you can also learn to close. I can only pay you minimum wage right now but whatever tips you earn are yours. And you being so pretty might bring you more tips. In fact, you might even draw more customers. They’re probably tired of looking at my face.” She laughed and her face lit up.

  Cassie doubted any man would be tired of looking at Stella’s face. And if she had to be extra friendly to get bigger tips, she’d do what she had to do. Well, to a point, anyway.