by Jayne Blue
I took my leather off and dug in.
Chapter Twelve
Jules
The Judge was merciful with me. For that, I was grateful. No more fingers removed from the people that helped me.
No more worries that Daddy would come after Ryder or Violet.
And very little hope. But a little hope is better than none.
This time instead of hating the wedding planning process I pretended, I liked it.
I angled for a long engagement. I convinced anyone around me that a lot of planning was needed to throw a wedding for a prominent judge. I tapped danced. A lot.
I’d agreed to marry The Judge and then I used him as my shield, my umbrella, and my way to buy time.
Judge Wexler, Richard, was in, fact, seventy. He was rich. Powerful. And the opposite of Daddy in the way he used that power. I never saw him raise his voice or intimidate anyone by violence.
Judge Wexler intimidated with favors. By giving them, refusing them, and calling them in.
His power ran deeper than Daddy’s in many ways, and in places, I didn’t understand. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to understand. What I had to do was play along.
I was presented to Richard the day after I’d made the deal with Daddy.
I’d, of course, met him when I was supposed to marry his son, who was still sulking, but this new arrangement put me on a different footing with him. He was no longer a man who was supposed to be my father-in-law. He was a man who I’d agreed to be with. I didn’t let my mind go too far down that road. If I did, I’d run again. I wouldn’t be as lucky the second time. I knew there wasn’t a Ryder out there to help me. There couldn’t be.
We met in his judge’s chambers at the courthouse. There were books lining the walls, plaques on a credenza, and pictures of people that I was supposed to be impressed with. It worked.
“Juliet. Sweet Juliet.” He’d come from around his desk and indicated we sit by a coffee table at the window of his office. It was so fancy and old fashioned. This was not the world I’d grown up in.
“I do not blame you for running from David. Let me get that on the table right now. I have no grudge about that,” Judge Wexler said.
“Thank you, Judge.”
“How about call me Richard?” he said.
“Richard.” I sat down in the chair across from him. I’d worn a pink flowered dress.
“You look even younger than when you ran from the church. I like it. It’s good for me to remember how lucky I am to have you.” He smiled, and I swallowed hard. Was it dangerous to like him? I didn’t know what was worse, my Dad, who’s teeth, were always bared, and claws always sharpened, or a soft and smiling Richard, I couldn’t duck if I didn’t know what was coming.
I decided, to be honest. I was going to have to lie about enough. My emotions? Maybe I could give The Judge a few of those. Maybe I needed to.
“I’m scared, Richard.”
“Because we’re not in love? Or because you’re being forced into this?”
“Yes.” He slid forward in his chair, and the leather made a noise. He put his hands out and took mine in his. Maybe I had already thrown him off with exposing my true fear in front of him.
He tugged me forward, and our knees were touching. Mine were bare in my dress. He was always in a suit and his judge robe.
Richard didn’t try to grope me. His son had in the few days we were together. This was refreshing.
“You can talk to me. I want you to enjoy yourself. I want to make you happy. Having a pretty young wife is the ultimate prize for a man like me. And I want you to know I think of you as just that. A prize.”
I didn’t know about being considered a prize. But the idea that he wanted to make me happy could work. I was going to be as open as possible.
“I promise I’ll come around if you’re patient,” I said.
“What do you want? I’ll get you whatever you want.” He looked in my eyes. I had a chance here.
“How about you let me design us engagement rings? And I want to plan my kind of wedding. Not my Daddy’s. With David, it was too fast. All Daddy’s idea and I had no say in it. I want it to be beautiful. And mine.”
“We can do that.” He leaned over and place a kiss on both of my hands.
I decided I needed Judge Richard Wexler as my ally, not Daddy’s. I decided to play him and stall him for all he was worth.
I had weapons too. Both hidden and on full display in my pink floral dress. I was going to use them. I didn’t know how but I did know I needed time to figure them out. Playing Judge Wexler just right could give me that time.
I hoped.
Chapter Thirteen
Ryder
Polk, Nero, and Bret, to my relief, were terrific mechanics. We finished most of the jobs they had right away, and I got to work training them on the computer system. It was just a matter of tracking things.
“I’m getting the hang of it,” Polk said with pride. He still typed one finger at a time, but he wasn’t swearing at the keyboard by the second day of our work.
Ridge and Cruz showed up and also had a good couple of days.
“We think we’ve got three new businesses convinced,” Ridge explained.
“Devil’s Hawks were taking their money and doing nothing but hiding shit at their locations,” Cruz said.
“Hawks gonna be mad about that?” I wondered if we needed reinforcements here in Southwood soon.
“Not yet, they don’t do anything regularly, and they’re scattered all over. Organization isn’t their thing. We got that over them by a mile. They’re based about fifteen miles out of town, so the law isn’t exactly in their face,” Cruz said. I thought it sounded optimistic but didn’t want to bring them down.
“Let’s get a drink and unwind,” Cruz suggested, and I couldn’t agree more. This club was working hard to set things right and to earn that trust that Sawyer and the Great Wolves Grand City had in them. I respected the hell out of it and damn if a beer didn’t sound really good right now.
We headed to a restaurant and bar downtown, not too far, nothing was too far in Southwood, called Wheelhouse.
It was hopping for a small town place. They had live music and a decent crowd. We stood out a bit with our leather, but it was just grungy enough for us not to cause a huge fight just by walking in.
I sat next to Bret at a bar table we’d snagged. She reminded me a lot of Dusty, the chick bartender at The Wolf Den back home. Dusty was a good friend. She was tough, funny, and would also take a bullet for our club. But she wasn’t a Great Wolf. She was a daughter of a Great Wolf. Bret had a jacket with a cut. This was interesting and not strictly listed as against the rules, but I’d never met a woman who’d patched in.
She filled out her tight leather a lot better than she filled out her baggy work overalls, and it was easy to see everyone she passed noticing the same thing. I could also see Nero’s eyes as well. He didn’t let a look she got get by him. I didn’t know if this was brotherly love or more. But I took his cue and made sure not to get too close to Bret. But I did want to know what her story was.
“So how does a tiny, blue-haired chick get a Great Wolves cut?” I asked her straight out.
“Cruz doesn’t discriminate. Do you?”
“Nope. Just friendly conversation.”
“I was a runaway. Drug addict.” She pushed up a sleeve of her leather jacket to show me an arm that was filled with old scars.
“I cut, I shot up, I did everything I could to die.”
“Looks like you failed. You seem pretty damn alive to me.” A corner of her mouth tilted up a tiny bit. It was the closest to a smile I’d seen on her very cute face.
“That’s thanks to Cruz. He picked me out of the gutter, held my hair away from puke when I went cold turkey, and then gave me work. Purpose.”
“I see.”
“Sober for eight years now.” She jiggled a club soda. Despite the tracks on her arms and the tough exterior, she barely looked over twenty-one.<
br />
“Congratulations.”
“Yeah, town threw me a big parade.”
“What’s this? A joke from Bret?” She punched my arm, hard.
“Actually, Cruz made me a probie when I hit five years sober. Earned my place when I earned this.” And she used a finger to slide her jacket to the side to show me the scar on her chest.
“That seems like another story I’m going to want to hear.”
“Yeah, maybe Nero will have to tell it. I was too busy bleeding out to remember much.”
“Gotcha.” I looked over at Nero, and he lifted then shook his beer bottle. It was time for me to buy around.
“Okay, this round’s on me. I’ll go get it. Order me a plate of loaded nachos.” I left Ridge, Cruz, Nero, Poke and Bret to order food and walked through the decent crowd. I like this place. It may become my regular haunt while I was in Southwood. I wondered if they served breakfast.
Nothing more pressing was on my mind as I leaned into the brass bar rail. The bartender caught my eye, and I ordered five more bottles to take back.
I was waiting on them. First, the perfume shot me back and then the soft collision into my shoulder. A blonde had crashed into me.
I knew it was her before she even looked up. Her hand was still on my elbow.
“I’m so sorry, I totally biffed it into you. Damn heels.” When she looked up, my heart started beating again. It was odd to realize it hadn’t since I’d said goodbye to her on that bus.
“You’re much better in Chuck Taylors,” I said. She slowly lifted her head and I locked eyes with her. I wanted her again. I never stopped wanting her. Jules was right here in front of me. In Southwood.
“Oh my God. Ryder,” she said in a breathy voice. It took a second but when she realized her hand was on my arm she removed it like it burned.
“Jules. Surprised to see you here,” I said. What the fuck was she doing in Michigan? The plan was to disappear.
“Your hair. I didn’t recognize you.” She looked at me. For a second. I felt the energy between us that we felt from the moment we’d met. Then she shifted her stance. She visibly tightened her face, her body. “Please, I can’t really talk.” She looked at the bartender who’d come over to get her order.
“Regular for you and The Judge?” The bartender knew her and knew her order.
“Yes, thanks.” He walked off and got busy making the drinks. I looked down and saw she was sporting an engagement ring.
“Reconsider that marriage thing?” I was getting pissed. I had convinced myself she’d started a life out west. My Mom said she was getting shipments for her store from Julery in Washington State or some shit. And yet here she was, ordering her “regular” order?
“No. Yes. Look, it’s complicated. Please. I can’t talk to you.” She was flustered. Was it me that had her off balance? She sure had knocked me off kilter.
I wanted to shake her. I wanted to kiss her. But instead, I stood there and couldn’t stop taking her in. Every inch of her. She didn’t look the same. And yet she did.
She’d cut her hair, it wasn’t long and free. It was shaped, bobbed, and somehow not “her” to me. To me, her hair was long and totally beached out. Shows you what I knew. My mind flashed on her hair, her neck, kissing her in my pup tent.
The shoes she mentioned were sky high heels. She was teetering in them. Instead of the t-shirt and jeans from my memory of her, she was in a flowered dress that showed off her gorgeous legs. She pulled her cardigan in around her body. It felt like she was trying to hide from me.
“What’s taking him so long?” she said under her breath.
“I won’t bite.”
She looked up at me, and her eyes were filling up with tears. I swear.
“Please.” The bartender showed up with two drinks. Some red Cosmo bullshit for her and an old fashioned martini for someone else.
“Put it on The Judge’s tab,” she said and picked up the drinks.
“Can’t we at least talk a minute?” I said, and she shook her head no. She turned so fast a little of the Cosmo splashed down and landed on the floor. I watched her weave through the crowd with the drinks. I wasn’t letting her get away that easily.
I was at least a head or two taller than everybody in the joint, so I tracked her from a distance. She didn’t turn back to look at me, and I slowly moved forward to see where she was taking the damn drinks.
Jules stepped up to a table on a riser. It was somehow easier to see than the rest of the entire place. It had the effect of putting Jules, and the man I assumed was The Judge on display.
The Judge looked old enough to be her grandfather. He had thinning gray hair but was trim other than a little punch in the gut. There was an air of power about him that was unmistakable. He expected people to wait on him. And he expected them to watch as Jules put the drink in front of him. I sure as shit was watching this shit show.
The Judge put his hand on her ass, and I thought I was going to explode. He pulled her forward, and she leaned down to kiss him. To fucking kiss him!
I didn’t have a bad temper. I thought I was even-keeled. Especially in the crowd, I rode with. But I surged forward. I was going to get his hands off her. Goddamn it.
I don’t know how many steps I’d taken in that direction when I felt an iron grip on my arm.
“What the fuck?” I spit the words out. It was Cruz.
“Calm down,” he said under his breath and tightened his grip. I clenched my jaw. I was about half a second away from punching him. Punching The Judge. Punching the wall. Something.
“Let me go.”
“Ridge said you were up here meeting Juliet Maldonado.”
“You know her?”
“Everyone here knows her. She’s Sonny Maldonado’s daughter and he gave her to The Judge.”
“What the fuck hell?”
“Look. If you want to get thrown in jail or get all of us shot at by tonight you’ll go over there and act like you have some sort of claim on her.”
“I…” I didn’t have a claim. It sunk in. I didn’t. I also didn’t have a clue.
I tried to look away. The Judge sat with a hand on Jules’s knee. He rubbed it. She let him.
I started feeling more and more like she’d played me.
“I need you to tell me all you know about her.”
“First, you’re going to come back to the table and stop looking like a fucking gorilla ready to square off with a silverback.” Cruz pulled me from my spot, and I took one more look.
Jules looked up at me in that instant. I watched as she grabbed The Judge’s hand and stopped him from sliding up her thigh. Was this for my benefit? I wanted to cut his hand fucking off.
Jules closed her eyes tight and turned back to The Judge.
What the fucking hell had just happened to my life?
Chapter Fourteen
Jules
Richard had no idea that I’d just encountered Ryder. But I was completely unsettled. Scared. And heart sick all over again.
Why was he here?
I’d been so careful with Violet. A friend of mine from art school shipped my designs to her from Washington. She really had no way to track me here.
Richard stroked my knee. His fingers sliding farther and farther up my thigh.
He liked this part. The teasing part. The public part. He made a point of taking me to bars, restaurants, shops, events, whatever he had to do to get an audience, and he made sure I was next to him.
I’d gotten used to the touches on my thigh, the side of my breast, my cheek. But as I sat there, I knew Ryder was watching Richard’s hand caress me up and down. I wanted to smack it away. I wanted to run to Ryder. I couldn’t do a damn thing but give Richard the attention I’d shown him since we’d made this deal.
What was Ryder doing here? I thought through the last few moments. He was as surprised as I was when I practically fell into his arms. I had noticed the great ass of the man at the bar. But I’d noticed absently. Like you noticed a be
autiful flower. I had no idea that I was next to my Ryder. My Ryder had a Mohawk. My Ryder had board shorts.
My Ryder. He wasn’t my Ryder.
So he’s in Southwood with the Great Wolves. And he’s staring at me. I lifted my head up and looked back at him. And I put my hand over The Judges and lifted it away from my thigh and up to the table. I couldn’t look at Ryder anymore. I couldn’t be in the same room, much less with someone else touching me.
“Richard. Can we go? I’m really kind of tired tonight, and you’ve got an appointment early don’t forget?”
“Yes, darling. I wouldn’t forget that appointment for all the world.” Richard finished his drink, and I did the same. A scary man in leather, another Great Wolf, drug Ryder away by the arm. I wouldn’t soon forget the way his eyes bore into me. The way they willed me to remove The Judge’s hand.
We stood up and The Judge, as he often did, strode through the room ahead of me. He had me behind him, with my hand firmly in his. We got outside to his Cadillac, finally, and I took what felt like my first breath. The Judge opened my door.
“You alright darling? You look rather peaked.”
“I’m okay. Just tired, like I said.” The Judge leaned in and kissed my cheek and squeezed my body up close to him. Just in case everyone inside didn’t know I was there with him, the bouncer, the sidewalk, and any passersby would be sure to catch the old fox with the young doe as he likes to characterize it.
I hadn’t wanted to live in Daddy’s house so I pushed The Judge. He had put me up in an apartment. It was downtown near his courthouse office. Many times at lunch he’d have me come visit him. Or he’d come up. It was convenient for him and mercifully away from Daddy and the Devil’s Hawks.
At first, I was scared. How would I put it off, sleeping with a man who was my fiancé? Could I? Was I the kind of girl who could fake it? I had a reason to fake it, several, and they all involved keeping me, Violet, Ryder, and even Russ alive. I thought I very well might be that type of girl who could sleep with a man to save some necks. But I didn’t know for sure. Yet.
