“Mmm hmm.”
“Got a smart mouth sometimes, though. That’s a con.”
“A con for what?”
“For lettin’ you move in with me.”
“Letting me?” she squeaked.
“Yeah. ‘Cause now I’m gonna have to find a bigger place for all of us.”
“Judge… I’m not sure I’m ready for that. With Daisy…”
“Yeah, get that. We got time. Just wanna know you’re okay with the idea.”
She gave him a smile. Soft just like the way her eyes looked. “I’m okay with the idea.”
“When you’re ready.”
Her fingers shifted to mindlessly trace the tattoos on his chest. “When I’m ready.”
“Like soon.” He knew he was pushing but he wanted her to know how important she was to him. Daisy, too.
It took her a few moments before she said, “When you find a place.”
“Want you and your girl in my life.”
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” she echoed his earlier response.
“One of the best things I ever heard besides you lovin’ me.”
“Oh, wait. That’s what you heard?”
“Swore that’s what I heard.” He wiggled a finger in his ear. “Do I need to clean out my fuckin’ ears?”
“I don’t know…” She pulled herself across his chest and put her mouth to his ear. “I love you.” She pulled back. “Did you hear that?”
“Not sure. Try again.”
She smiled and did it again and when she drew back the second time, he captured her face and pulled hers to his. He gave her a slow kiss, taking his time exploring her mouth and sliding his tongue over her lips.
When he released her mouth, she asked, “What did you hear?”
“I love you.”
“That sounds about right,” she said with a grin and a tug on his beard.
“Yeah, it does.” He wouldn’t argue that.
Because it was true.
Chapter Twenty
Judge sat back in the folding chair outside of his apartment and blew the smoke up toward the night sky while the fat snowflakes fell down around him.
Sig sat next to him, his feet kicked up on the railing and sucking back a beer. “My fuckin’ balls have gone into hidin’.”
Yeah, a late-night January snowfall wasn’t the best time to sit outside and get high, but Sig didn’t smoke inside his apartment because of Autumn. And Judge came outside while Jury was somewhere out there in the dark doing her business.
He offered the half-kicked joint to Sig, who took it and tucked it between his lips, taking a couple short puffs, then blowing the smoke out of his nose like an angry bull.
“Red sleepin’?” Judge asked him.
“Nah. Readin’. Soon as I’m done out here, gonna go in, find my balls and fuck her. Then she’ll be sleepin’.”
Judge snorted and shook his head.
But he wished he could say the same thing. Cassie was still living at her sister’s house and sharing Daisy’s bed. Which sucked the fucking big one. But it was what it was until she was ready to share a roof. Though, he’d first need to find a roof big enough to fit them all so he was ready for when she was.
He’d talked to Trip about building a little house somewhere on the farm and Trip seemed to be okay with it. However, mid-January in northern Pennsylvania wasn’t the best time to start building and he wasn’t waiting until the Amish could build him what he needed. He needed to find something else in the meantime.
Again, once she was ready.
Judge didn’t think she’d be ready until Lange signed his fucking name on those divorce papers. Which made him more determined than ever to find the fucker. He had even called Diesel, a Dirty Angels MC member and fellow enforcer, to see how much it would cost to hire one of his Shadows to find Lange.
His asshole had puckered when he heard.
He had a decision to make: build a fucking house or find Lange. He couldn’t afford both. Hell, if he paid for a Shadow, he wouldn’t even have enough to temporarily lease a place for him and his girls.
It fucking sucked. His business did well, but not well enough to plunk down the kind of cash needed to hire an expert from In the Shadows Security. Justice Bail Bonds had a lot of overhead and Deke also had to live off whatever they made.
He ground his molars at the thought of Lange getting off scot-free and leaving Cassie behind with the mountain of debt and a valid marriage certificate.
His girl ran up the steps, squeezed under and between Sig’s legs and jammed her nose right into his junk. “Jesus fuck. Savin’ that for Red, Jury. Damn dog.”
Judge grunted. “Maybe she was lookin’ for your lost balls.”
Jury gave Sig’s beer bottle a lick before coming over to him for an ear scratch.
“Did she just lick my fuckin’ beer?”
“Better than lickin’ your dick.”
“Know that for a fact?” Sig cocked an eyebrow as he took another big hit off the blunt before passing it back over.
Judge studied the lit joint in his fingers, watching the smoke swirl into the air from the tip.
Sig took a long chug of beer and belched loudly when he was done. “Whatcha doin’ about Cass and the kid?”
“Not sure yet.”
“Claimin’ her, right?”
“Plan on it.”
“She’s into it?”
“Fuckin’ hope so.”
“Nice havin’ pussy in your bed every night.”
Judge twisted his neck toward the man sitting next to him. “That what Autumn is? Pussy?”
“Know what the fuck I mean.”
Yeah, he knew what Sig meant. It was his delivery that sucked. Sig would be the first to admit Autumn saved his ass. But then, Sig saved hers, too.
Just like Stella saved Trip’s.
Two of his brothers had found women who fit them perfectly.
So did Judge.
But he wasn’t feeling settled like them. He was feeling goddamn restless.
He missed Cassie. He missed having her curled against him as they slept. He missed waking up in the middle of the night and fucking her. He missed Daisy pounding on the door in the morning with her tyrant demands.
He missed it all.
For the past two weeks, it had been just him and his Fleshlight in his apartment and it was lonely as hell. Cassie’s sister agreed to watch Daisy overnight a couple of times, but it wasn’t nearly enough for Judge.
Not enough for Cassie, either.
She missed him as much as he missed her.
Fucking crazy for him to fall so fucking hard for a woman he’d only known for about six weeks. Cassie said the same.
That’s why she was in no rush to move from under her sister’s roof. Plus, she was still putting money away. He hoped it was so they could get a shared place and not one on her own, but it would be up to her.
He wouldn’t rush her. Not only because of her but because of her girl.
He got it.
But it still sucked.
He had hoped she’d spend the night tonight since she was on days-off from Crazy Pete’s, but her sister and brother-in-law had some work thing to go to and couldn’t watch Daisy.
So, he’d gone over after closing up Justice Bail Bonds for the night, had dinner with her and Daisy and left once his girls had settled in to watch Frozen for the millionth time.
He could do a lot of things but watching Frozen again was not one of them. Especially when Daisy, while dressed like Elsa, sung at the top of her little lungs to the point where he wanted to jam pencils in his eardrums.
He sighed. It was time to go inside, thaw out his own balls and maybe spend a little quality time with his Fleshlight and his imagination.
As he rose from his seat, his cell phone went off, playing Cassie’s ringtone, which was not the fucking song Let It Go. He swiped the screen and put it to his ear.
Maybe she was calling to have phone sex. He could get on board with t
hat.
“What’s up, baby?” At first, she didn’t answer, making the back of his neck tingle. “Cass.”
But it was her whisper that made his heart stop. “He’s here.”
“Who’s there?” he shouted, already knowing who the fuck she was talking about. He glanced at Sig. “Take Jury in with you.”
Sig dropped his feet from the railing to the metal landing and stared at him with concern.
“Dennis,” came the shaky whisper.
“Jesus fuck. Where?”
“In Daisy’s room. He’s sitting on her bed, talking to her.”
“What? Did you let him in?”
“No!” she whisper-shouted. “I have no idea how he got into the house. But he’s in there. I went to check on her and he was just… there.”
“Where are you?”
“I closed the bedroom door before he saw me and called you right away.”
“Where are you?” he barked as he ran down the steps, Jury on his heels. “Get Jury!” he shouted up at Sig.
The man ran down the steps, grabbing the bulldog by her wide collar and holding her as Judge jumped into his Expedition, which was parked at the bottom of the steps.
“In Heather’s room.”
Judge pressed the Ford’s Start button and the engine roared to life. His cell phone’s Bluetooth automatically hooked up. “Will he hurt her? You?”
“No, I don’t think so,” came her shaky voice through the vehicle’s speakers. “He’s just talking to her, but I have no idea what he’s saying.”
He shoved the shifter into Reverse. “Fuck.”
“Yes, fuck, Judge! What do I do? Call the cops?”
“No, I’m on my way. If he tries to take Daisy with him, you hang up with me and call 9-1-1. You got me?”
He could barely hear her “Yes.”
“Keep your shit together. If you approach him, stay calm, yeah? If you can, try to keep him in the house ‘til I get there. If he leaves, do not let him leave with Daisy. If he tries leavin’ without her, make sure you get the description of his vehicle and plate, yeah?” He sped down the rough farm lane, past Trip and Stella’s house and toward County Line Road.
“Okay.”
“Only stop him from leavin’ if you can do it safely. Do not put yourself at risk. We don’t know what his fuckin’ mental state is.”
“He’s upset. I think he’s getting Daisy upset, too, because he’s crying.”
“He’s fuckin’ cryin’?”
“Y-yes. I think so.”
Jesus Christ.
“Want you to text Deke right now. Don’t hang up with me, but text him and tell him what the fuck’s goin’ on. You keep the line open with me so I can hear everythin’, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll text him now.”
“You get his vehicle description, text it to both of us.”
He got no answer, so he assumed she was doing what he told her. A few seconds later, she returned with, “Okay, I texted him.”
“He text you back?”
“Not yet.”
“He will. Don’t worry. Gonna shut up now so you can listen for him. Make sure he does not take Daisy, Cass. Do not let him leave the house with her.” He could not say that enough. Judge was worried Lange might use her in a standoff. Or for ransom. Or, worse, as a shield like his father did with Jemma that night over twenty years ago.
“I won’t. He’s not taking her. No way.”
In the dark interior of the Ford, he nodded to himself at her answer as he sped toward town.
“I’m going to get him to sign the papers,” she whispered after a few minutes.
“Fuck the papers, Cassie. Wait ‘til I get there.”
“This might be my only shot.”
“Cass, just stay put and keep an eye out for what he’s doin’.”
“I need to be free of him. So does Daisy.”
“Cass…”
He got no answer.
“Cass!” he shouted into the dark interior of the vehicle. “Jesus fuck!”
“I’m here.”
Oh, thank fuck.
“The papers are in our room.”
“Fuck the papers.”
“He’s still here. I can convince him to sign them.”
Judge ground his teeth. “I’m almost there.”
“Okay, then I’m hanging up.”
“No—” The phone disconnected. “Call Deacon!” he yelled the voice command, and a ringing filled the interior.
“What’s up?” his cousin answered.
“Where are you?”
“Headin’ out. Was face first in pussy when—”
Judge cut him off, not needing to hear about Deke’s latest fuck at a time like this. “Head toward Cassie’s.”
“Headin’ there now. But—”
“Will give you an update when I get there.”
“Got it,” came the answer before the phone went dead again.
“Call Cassie,” he shouted. The phone rang and rang and a few seconds later her voicemail picked up.
He jammed his boot harder on the accelerator, making his Ford scream as it did fish-tails in the snow that was starting to accumulate at each corner he took.
When he got to the house in record time, the driveway was empty and Cassie stood barefoot in the snow with her arms wrapped around her waist.
She was probably fucking freezing, standing there like that.
He rolled down the window as he pulled in. “What’s he drivin’?”
“Light colored, maybe tan, four-door Dodge sedan. I don’t know the model.”
“Get the plate?”
She shook her head. “When I went into her room, he pushed me down and ran out of the house. I had to chase him.” Tears were sliding down her cheeks. “He didn’t sign the papers.”
For fuck’s sake, those goddamn papers.
He put his arm out the window. “Give ‘em to me.”
She lifted her empty hands. “I don’t have them. I threw them in the car when he was escaping. He has them.”
“Gotta go catch his ass. Text Deke the details. Get in the house and lock the doors.”
She nodded again, shivering and wrapping her arms around her waist once more. He jerked the shifter into Reverse and the Expedition fish-tailed again as he smashed on the gas pedal to back out of the driveway. As soon as he regained control, he headed in the direction of the disappearing taillights he’d seen when he’d come around the corner.
Thank fuck there were also the tire tracks in the inch of snowfall. They would help unless Lange turned onto heavier traveled Main Street. And, of course, that’s where the fucker went. Luckily, between the snow and the late hour, no one else was driving through the middle of town. Up in the distance, he saw what looked like the Dodge’s taillights. He blew through the red light in the square—since, luckily, no one else was around—and down the slushy road.
As Judge raced to catch up, the Dodge slowed up ahead, the brake lights glowing bright even in the falling snow. The cage turned.
Fuck me. This was déjà vu all over again.
But this time he didn’t park at the curb and walk into the empty lot where the former Fury clubhouse used to stand. Fuck no. He pulled in behind the parked Dodge, which now had its lights out and was sitting in the dark.
He blocked it in as best as he could since Lange had parked in a back corner of the lot near the fence. Where no one would see him from Main Street.
Where shit could go very fucking wrong and no one would know right away.
He quickly sent a text to Deacon, then shut off his lights, but kept his engine running. He reached under his seat, where he kept a holstered 9 mm Glock and shoved it into the back of his waistband.
With one eye on the Dodge and its occupant, he shoved his door open and climbed out. He took cover behind the door for a few seconds, just in case Lange was armed and willing to take a shot at him.
When no shots were fired or threats yelled out, he cautiously approached the ca
r. And, of course, the window was still wound up. Lange had both hands firmly on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead. Judge noticed the divorce papers lying on the dash.
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Judge muttered under his breath. Louder he said, “Roll down the window, or I’m bustin’ it out.”
Lange slowly turned his head and stared at Judge through the closed window, his eyes vacant and tears running down his cheeks. The back of Judge’s neck tingled again. Something was definitely off with this fucker.
He did not turn into the old warehouse lot to escape. He pulled into the vacant lot to hide.
Why?
“Get the fuck outta the car,” Judge ordered. Even though the man was a fugitive and it was Judge’s right to take him into custody, he could not use his gun to do so. While he had a license to carry a concealed weapon, it was for personal reasons and not for his business. To use it for business, he would need his Act 235 certification, which he and Deke never completed. Because of that, they used non-lethal options when capturing a bail jumper instead of a firearm.
But if Judge had to shoot the fucker to keep himself from dying, he would. That would be a last resort since too many questions would arise if he killed Cassie’s husband. Especially since he was fucking the man’s wife and planning a future with her.
That might appear a bit suspicious.
The window powered down and Cassie’s estranged husband stared up at him. “Who are you? Why are you bothering me? Just leave me the hell alone.”
That wasn’t going to happen. “You skipped on bail and have a warrant. You’re comin’ with me.”
Lange’s eyes went wide and he shook his head. “No, I can’t go to jail.”
“Ain’t your choice. Just like you gave Cassie no choice by stickin’ her with all the debt after you stole from a kids’ cancer charity. What kinda fuckin’ man does that shit?”
“Just leave me alone and she’ll be free of me.”
“Not if you don’t sign those fuckin’ papers, she won’t. And the fuck if you’re livin’ free while she suffers. You’re gonna get what’s comin’ to you.”
“I can’t go to jail! I can’t! I’ll never survive.”
“Ain’t goin’ to jail. Goin’ to prison. But you’re the type of asshole who’ll go to a country club prison, nothin’ fuckin’ hardcore. You’ll be playin’ tennis durin’ the day and at night, some rich daddy will make you his bitch. Promise it’ll only hurt the first coupla times.”
Blood & Bones: Judge (Blood Fury MC Book 3) Page 28
