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

by Jeanne St. James

  “I only wanted to see my daughter one more time. I needed to apologize to my wife, my daughter. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen to them.”

  “An apology will never be enough to fix your fuck up. You lied to her. You not only lost everything she had, your actions destroyed her life. Now she’s left pickin’ up the pieces. She lost everything, Lange. Her marriage, her home, her job, her security, all because you gambled away all your shit, then turned around and, bein’ such a selfish motherfucker, you stole from kids with cancer. That ain’t a man, you asshole. That’s a selfish pig. Instead of the money goin’ to help families with dyin’ kids, you lost a hand of poker. Or a round of blackjack. Or by bettin’ on the wrong fuckin’ horse. Whatever your poison was, it affected a lot more people than you. So, fuck your apology.”

  “I know, I—”

  “You didn’t even have the balls to tell her. Could’ve admitted your weakness and asked for help. You fuckin’ didn’t. Instead, you brought Cassie and Daisy down with you. Was thinkin’ more about yourself than your family. ‘Cause of that, can’t leave you alone. Law’s after you and so am I.”

  Lange covered his face with his hands. “I can’t go to prison,” he whispered.

  This conversation was getting old. And Judge was losing what little patience he had. “It’s over. Get outta the car.”

  “I can’t let you take me.”

  “You didn’t wanna get caught, you never shoulda broke into that house. Never shoulda upset your girl.”

  Judge reached for the door handle and Lange screamed, “All right. I’ll get out.” He shoved open the door and climbed out, leaving the door open as he faced Judge.

  The man wasn’t much taller than Cassie. Maybe a couple of inches. His hair was longer than the picture Judge had of him, his coat dirty, his pants wrinkled. And from what Judge could see inside the open door of the Dodge, it was full of fast food wrappers and trash.

  The man had hit rock-bottom.

  But that wasn’t Judge’s problem. Cassie and Daisy were his problem. He didn’t give a fuck about Lange, he gave a fuck about them. “You’re gonna sign those goddamn papers and do somethin’ to help Cassie for once instead of fuckin’ her over. Then I’m takin’ you to Rochester.”

  “I can’t go.”

  “Got no fuckin’ choice.”

  “We always have a choice.” The man’s voice sounded eerily vacant.

  “And you made some fuckin’ bad ones. Now do somethin’ for the woman who once loved you ‘til you fucked her over.”

  In a sudden move, Lange pulled a gun from his coat pocket and pointed it directly at Judge. Right at his goddamn chest. Fucking motherfucker.

  “Don’t come any closer.”

  Judge wasn’t planning on dying tonight. He needed to distract the man so he could get the gun away from him. “Gonna kill me, motherfucker? That what you’re gonna do? Think of your fuckin’ daughter. She’s gonna have to live with her daddy being a fuckin’ murderer.”

  “I am thinking about her. I’m setting her and Cassie free.”

  “No, you’re thinkin’ about yourself again. Just like when you stole that money from a goddamn kids’ cancer charity. Was all about Dennis Lange. Fuck everybody else.”

  “That’s not true!” he screamed into the still night.

  “Then prove it. Give Cassie what she wants, the fuckin’ divorce and you out of her life.”

  Lange nodded. “Fine. I’ll sign. I’ll sign and then you’ll let me go.”

  The gun in his hand shook and his finger was way too close to the trigger. The man probably didn’t know the first thing about guns. That could be a good thing or a very bad thing, depending if things went sideways.

  But Judge wasn’t going to wait for that.

  Lange jabbed the gun in his direction. “Step back. I need to go to the other side of the car.”

  Judge took a step back, giving Lange space to move around the Dodge. He followed the man, staying a few feet away but close enough to make a grab for the gun if he got the opportunity.

  And he needed to get it. Because there was no way Lange was going on the run again. Judge was delivering his ass to the bail bondsman in New York, getting his cut and giving that scratch to Cassie. It would hardly make a dent in what she lost but it would be a start.

  She’d get some money, get her divorce and finally be free of the man who was reaching for the passenger-side door handle.

  And as he did, Judge saw his opening. He interlaced his fingers and lunged at Lange, bringing both connected fists down on his wrist. As he struck it, Lange cried out and dropped the gun. Judge put his boot on it so Lange couldn’t recover it, then snagged the surprised man by the throat, shoving him against the car.

  Judge squeezed hard enough to make the man’s mouth open and close as he struggled for air. He leaned in until his face was in Lange’s. Then he gave Cassie’s ex a little lesson. “I am the Judge. I am the jury. And I am the fuckin’ enforcer. I alone decide what happens to you.” He flexed his fingers around the man’s throat. “Right now, I have your life in my hand, and decide whether you live or die. Not you.”

  He pulled the Dodge keys from Lange’s coat pocket and shoved them into his. There was no way he was letting this man escape.

  Cassie’s life would turn around with what happened tonight in this very goddamn empty lot. A lot that held history for the Fury. A lot that held more recent history between Judge and Cassie.

  The night he found her crying because of the fucker he was currently strangling. He reluctantly loosened his fingers and let the man breathe.

  “Gonna let you loose. You do somethin’ stupid, you’re gonna regret it. You get me?”

  “I’ll sign the papers if you let me go.”

  “You’ll sign those fuckin’ papers ‘cause I said you’re signin’ those fuckin’ papers. I’m tired of this shit. You’re wastin’ time. Now get in there and do it.” Judge yanked Lange away from the car, opened the passenger side door and shoved him toward the open doorway. Lange stumbled but caught himself on the door frame and while he was climbing into the passenger seat, Judge kicked the man’s gun away, spinning it into the dark and out of reach. He’d deal with it later. Right now, he needed to watch Lange do what Cassie needed him to do.

  Lange, now sitting in the passenger seat with the stack of papers on his lap, said, “I… I have a pen in the glovebox. I’m going to reach for it.”

  “Do it slow and don’t do anything stupid,” Judge warned him.

  Lange opened the glove box and dug around with Judge watching his every fucking move.

  And once he pulled out that pen, he began to sign those damn papers Judge never wanted to hear about again after tonight. Thank fuck it would finally be over.

  Lange flipped through the pages, signing on every line one of those little plastic arrows pointed at. When he was done, he put the pen back in the center console instead of the glove box and when he pulled his hand back out, he had another gun in it. This time what looked like a fucking snub-nosed .38 revolver was pointed at Judge.

  For fuck’s sake. He should’ve strangled the motherfucker.

  “Back off,” Lange shouted at him. This time the man’s finger was securely on the trigger and the hammer was cocked, too.

  Lange was desperate and desperate people were dangerous, so Judge reluctantly took a step back. But gun or not, Judge wasn’t allowing Lange to escape.

  “You were wrong. You don’t decide whether I live or die.” He put the barrel of the handgun to his own temple. “I do.”

  As Judge fell forward to grab the man’s wrist, the crack of the gun going off made every inch of his body flinch and he stumbled, landing hard against the Dodge. He caught himself, his ears ringing and his mind spinning, trying to make sense of what just happened.

  And then everything went still and deafeningly quiet.

  With his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, Judge straightened and stared over the roof of the car into the dark. To where onl
y the memory of the Original’s clubhouse remained.

  His past.

  He sucked in a deep breath of frigid winter air, and, with his gut twisting, dropped his gaze to the car’s interior.

  To his and Cassie’s future. Now marred by what he saw.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Lange’s head had fallen forward. Blood and brain matter covered the inside of the car and windshield. The hand holding the gun sat lifeless on Lange’s lap and under it was Cassie’s signed divorce papers. Splattered with dark, shiny spots. Soon to be soaked to the point they were unreadable. When ink and blood eventually blended into one.

  But it didn’t matter. None of that mattered.

  What mattered most to Judge was Cassie was now free.

  But not entirely. Because this was not how Cassie wanted it to go. Neither did he. And this might haunt her for a while. If not forever.

  Judge turned and slid his back down the side of the vehicle until he sat with his knees cocked on the cold, rough pavement. He drew his fingers over his face, finding and smearing warm blood on his skin that was not his. He dropped his head into his hands and just breathed.

  Fuck.

  He’d have to tell her. And then she would have to explain it somehow to her little girl.

  Daisy was too young to understand the wrongs Lange did. No matter what choices the man had made, he was still her daddy. A father she would never see or hold again. And that was going to hurt.

  After a few more minutes, when he had pulled his shit together, he scrolled through his cell phone and found a saved number.

  Not looking forward to making this call, he closed his eyes and put the phone to his ear. “Chief…”

  Judge stood back but kept his gaze forward, keeping an eye on the activity in the distance.

  Rochester had a few inches of snow last night and the wind was biting. He worried his girls would be cold since they’d been out there for over a half hour now. He was getting impatient for this to be over.

  She said he didn’t have to come, but there was no way he was letting her come back up here alone.

  Holding Daisy’s pink-mittened hand, Cassie guided her to the casket and helped her daughter put a flower on the top, then placed her own on there, also.

  His woman, wearing a black dress and long black winter coat, turned and spotted him. Even from where he stood, he could see her eyes and nose were red since she’d been crying during the whole service.

  She was still so damn beautiful even with her face ravaged with grief. Knowing that she could forgive the man that fucked her over and could come here today and pay her respects to him and his family killed him. But he understood it and supported her in doing so.

  She didn’t think it would be good for him to stand by her and Daisy’s side at the service or the gravesite, so he didn’t. He stayed close but just far enough away to not intrude.

  Even so, he had a difficult time not going to her and curling her into his side when she had been surrounded by Lange’s family and they pretty much ignored her. They mostly spoke to Daisy. He got it. She had left her husband a while ago and they probably didn’t consider her part of the family anymore. Or they blamed her for not sticking by his side during his troubled times.

  Normally, he might agree with that, if she hadn’t asked Lange to get marriage counseling and help for his gambling. She gave him that shot, that way back in, but he’d turned it down. Cassie leaving his ass was all on him.

  As was his choice of death over prison. He chose to take what he thought was an easier route, not caring his decision wouldn’t be easy for everyone else around him. The living left behind had to grieve and make sense of it all.

  After Lange’s parents said a few more words to Daisy, Cassie squeezed her daughter’s shoulder and turned her in Judge’s direction. Without pointing him out, Daisy spotted him anyway, and her little tear-stained face lit up. She broke free of her mother’s grasp and ran across the rows of snow-covered graves, darting around headstones to get to him.

  Daisy came toe to toe with him, dropping her head back and staring straight up at him. Seeing her red-rimmed eyes, he was reminded that Lange had done this to her. The man had made his daughter cry.

  “You said you were stayin’ in the motel.”

  He was being scolded by a five-year-old. “Yeah, I did. Missed you two, though.”

  He didn’t want to be too far from Cassie in case any of Lange’s family gave her shit. If he had to, he would’ve stepped in. With him being the club’s Sergeant at Arms, and now that Cassie and Daisy were what he considered club property, it was his job to protect them.

  He took that job very seriously.

  Before the little tyrant could demand it, Judge scooped her up into his arms and she took a hold of his beard like she always did.

  Using a knuckle, he wiped a stray tear off her chin. “You okay?”

  Daisy nodded. “I’m sad. I miss my daddy.”

  “I’m sure you do, kid. You will for a long time. Sometimes I still miss my daddy, too.”

  Shiny blue eyes blinked at him. “Did he die?”

  “Yeah. A long time ago.”

  “How’d he die?”

  Judge wasn’t sure how to answer that. “He went to prison, Daze, because he did a bad thing. He died when he was in prison.”

  “Oh. Someone said my daddy did a bad thing, too, an’ was goin’ to prison. But he died ‘fore he got there, right?”

  Christ. “Yeah, kid.”

  “Momma said he got reeeeeeally tired an’ just went to sleep. An’ when he was asleep, he flew aaalllll the way up to heaven. Just like an angel.”

  Judge knew that wasn’t exactly the explanation Cassie told her, but today was not the day to correct her. “Yeah, that’s what happened.”

  “Is your daddy in heaven, too?”

  Judge doubted it. “Yep. He’ll be waitin’ for your daddy there.”

  “They can be friends.”

  He gave her a squeeze. “Yeah, baby, they can be friends.”

  Judge lifted his gaze to where Cassie broke herself free from saying her goodbyes and headed in their direction. He was relieved to see she was no longer crying as she stared at the two of them waiting for her.

  When she reached where they stood, she pressed her forehead to his shoulder and he curled his free hand around the back of her head, holding her close.

  “I shouldn’t cry for him,” came muffled from his thick leather jacket.

  “Yeah, baby, you should. You loved him enough to marry him and have his baby. Things just got twisted is all.”

  “I don’t even know if I’m a widow or a divorcee.”

  “Free. That’s all you need to know for now. The rest we can figure out later,” he reminded her, adjusting Daisy’s legs around his waist more securely. The little girl’s cheek pressed to his other shoulder.

  Cassie tipped her face up to his, her blue eyes red-rimmed and her mascara a little smudged. Still beautiful as fuck, though. “Free to be yours.”

  Yeah, he wanted to shout that, but he didn’t. “To start new.”

  “Free to put down fresh roots. Settle in and get our life in order.”

  He knew she meant her and Daisy’s life, but he was pretty damn sure “our life” also included him.

  “Sorry it happened this way,” he whispered into her hair which had been pulled back into a tight bun and not loose like he normally preferred it.

  “Me, too.” Pulling her head back, she looked up at him again. “Let’s go home,” she whispered, running her fingers over Daisy’s fist which was still gripping his beard tightly.

  If the kid needed that, he’d let her have it. He wanted to give both of them whatever they needed, whenever they needed it.

  “Yeah, baby, let’s go home.”

  Epilogue

  The Beginning

  Almost six months later

  It didn’t go unnoticed that the nails on Judge’s han
ds and toes were painted several different colors. Someone had gotten into Cassie’s nail polish again and Judge, as patient as he was with her daughter, had suffered through Daisy practicing on him.

  “I guess I need to stock up on more nail polish remover. I hope I have enough for you to remove that before your uber-manly poker run today. Otherwise, the guys won’t miss all those shades of pink and red. I have to say, though, those colors do look good on you.”

  “If you can talk, woman, ain’t doin’ my job,” came the low rumble from his chest into her back.

  “What job is that?”

  “Of making you come.”

  “Work harder, then.”

  She bit her bottom lip when those brightly colored nails disappeared from her breasts and a thick arm wrapped around her hips as those fingers dipped between her thighs.

  She braced one hand against the shower wall and the other gripped the strong arm across her belly, which held her like a vice. His nose was pressed into her wet hair, and the hot water beaded on their eyelashes and ran in wide rivulets down their connected bodies. They had installed a large hot water heater for this very reason. It was worth every penny because they took a lot of showers. Especially since the bathroom was a good place to muffle the sounds of them having sex.

  Which was often.

  Two of those long, thick fingers slowly slid in and out of her, the pace quickening slightly with each thrust. But it wasn’t nearly fast enough since she was close, but not quite there. And they didn’t have a lot of time to spare.

  His steel rod of an erection pressed into her back and she knew as soon as he got the result he was working toward, he’d be taking her from behind, so he could come deep inside her. That thought took her one step closer to the edge.

  He liked the idea she would spend all day carrying a little bit of him inside her. If she was being honest, she liked it, too.

  It was simply another way to mark her as his ol’ lady. Just like the “Property of Judge” cut he had made for her after officially claiming her at the table and in front of his brothers.