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

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Blood & Bones: Judge (Blood Fury MC Book 3) Page 6

by Jeanne St. James


  “The money should’ve been motivation before.”

  “Fuckin’ Dad died of the goddamn cancer, Judge.”

  Judge sucked air in through his nose and held it. “Was there, Deke.”

  “Yeah, and you know how bad it was.”

  Something he’d never forget. The cancer rotted his uncle from the inside out. It hit them all hard.

  Even in the couple of years Judge lived with Deke’s parents, his Uncle Walter ended up being a better father than Ox ever was. In fact, Walter practiced tough love and never once hesitated to knock some sense into Judge or Deacon.

  Ox would get pissed because 5-0 brought Judge home, not because of breaking curfew. In contrast, Walt thanked the pigs for bringing him home, waited until they left and then taught Judge a lesson about breaking curfew. At sixteen, Judge had fought back once.

  Once was all it took.

  Judge never fought back again.

  But it was those two years under Walt’s roof that taught Judge a bit of respect and showed him a good reason to keep his ass out of jail.

  He had Walt to thank for all of that. Because Judge had no doubt if it wasn’t for Walt and his methods, he’d have ended up in and out of the joint just like Sig, the Fury’s VP.

  Walt also wasn’t having any of Judge dragging his only son into trouble. Or teaching him bad habits.

  So, any bad habits Deke had were strictly his own, nothing learned from Judge.

  Judge wasn’t the only kid in that household who got his ass whooped hard for doing shit he wasn’t supposed to do. Though, it worked since Deke never landed behind bars, either.

  Basically, by learning how to avoid Walt catching them taught them both not to be caught by the pigs. So, yeah, while at the time, those lessons sucked, he now really appreciated Walt’s strict ways.

  And so did Deke.

  His cousin was now heading toward the door. “Headin’ back to Williamsport. Take care of Justice ‘til I get back, yeah?”

  Judge raised an eyebrow. “When have you ever had to ask?”

  “Never. But strikin’ out with blondie has had you distracted.”

  Judge couldn’t deny that. “Cassidy,” he said under his breath.

  “Yeah, Cassidy. Whatever. Doesn’t fuckin’ matter what her name is now. Now you know she’s off fuckin’ limits. Got a ball and chain who will soon be behind bars again.”

  “If we catch him,” Judge grumbled.

  “We’ll get him if he puts one fuckin’ foot in the Grove,” Deke said with too much confidence.

  “Right.”

  “Though, once he starts his sentence, the wifey might need a bit of comfortin’.” Deke wiggled his eyebrows. “You got some pretty fuckin’ big shoulders for her to cry on, cuz. All you gotta do is whisper somethin’ sweet in her ear, pat her on the fuckin’ back and maybe she’ll let you stick your baby carrot cock in her snatch.”

  “Deke.”

  “Yeah?” he asked with a grin.

  “Get the fuck outta here before I club you with my baby carrot of a cock.”

  Deke laughed and squatted down, patting his thigh. “Jussie, come say goodbye to your daddy.”

  Justice ran over to him, tail wagging. Deke planted a big kiss on his blocky head and got to his feet. “Be back soon.”

  “Sooner than later, Deke.”

  “Yeah.” He disappeared from the office with a flick of two fingers.

  Judge turned back to the computer and after reading through the documents more thoroughly, he opened Cassidy Lange’s picture again.

  Cassidy.

  He wondered how involved the woman had been with her husband’s crime. He wondered if she had more kids than just Daisy.

  He also wondered why she’d skipped town and landed in Manning Grove. She never gave him her name, so she could be using a false one. Maybe it was just as he suspected, and she was in town to set up a place for hubby to hide. Or this was just a place to meet up before heading elsewhere.

  Hell, a man like that with what he did, was facing up to twenty-five years. That was before he skipped bond.

  Men like that were afraid of doing time.

  Men like that were afraid of losing all their shit.

  Men like that usually lost their wives and children.

  So, men like Dennis Lange might have figured skipping out would be for the best.

  Only problem was with men like that, they weren’t really smart enough to do it well.

  He’d probably want to head out of the country to hide. If he didn’t have any connections, doing that wasn’t easy. But Pennsylvania wasn’t far enough away from New York to hide successfully, even if he changed his hair color and his name.

  Nope. He was way too close to home.

  So, maybe she was just in town temporarily. To try to have a normal holiday with her kid. Or kids.

  Before they all went on the run.

  Hell, maybe hubby was waiting on her somewhere else.

  Or maybe Dennis Lange would show up for Christmas with the family.

  And if he did, Justice Bail Bonds was going to get a nice fat deposit into their bank account after they caught his ass and handed him over.

  Deke was right. Once hubby went down for twenty-five years, was Cassidy going to stick by his side and be the loyal wife? Or would she be looking to move on?

  Dennis Lange might wear a suit, not have any tattoos, even drive some fancy fucking car. But if he did what he was charged with? He was scum through and through.

  Looks could be deceiving.

  Chapter Four

  Judge sat in his Expedition two houses down from 52 Fourth Avenue. It was late. It was dark. And he couldn’t get Cassidy Lange out of his mind.

  He was supposed to be there keeping an eye out for Dennis Lange, not his wife. But he’d never been so goddamn fixated on a woman in his fucking life.

  And, of fucking course, she had to be married.

  To a white-collar criminal.

  And had at least one kid with him.

  That sucked donkey dick.

  Judge took in the Christmas lights strung around the windows and porch. In one front window of the small two-story home, he also noticed a decorated tree lit up.

  The silver Honda CRV with New York plates was parked out front on the street because a couple of other vehicles were parked in front of the detached two-car garage. Probably belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, the couple who could be harboring a fugitive.

  If not now, maybe soon.

  Because how long could hubby stay away from his wife and kid? Especially during the holidays. Unless the man was just that self-centered and didn’t give a flying fuck about them. Maybe he did his crime, got caught and then left her dealing with the mess left behind.

  Because it had been a mess.

  After Deke had left for Williamsport, Judge had done a bunch of online searches on the case.

  Not only were the people of Rochester outraged, but all of New York, too. Hell, the whole fucking country seemed to be screaming for blood once it hit national news.

  Judge didn’t pay much attention to the news unless it happened to be about one of his clients. Otherwise, he was fine with living in his own damn little world. Just him, his cousin, his sister, and his aunt.

  Though, that little world had grown a lot with the Fury being resurrected. And as the club grew with prospects, members and ol’ ladies, his world continued to expand. They also needed more prospects and soon. Nothing better than having one to do any dirty work needing done.

  Like sitting on a house all fucking night, keeping an eye out for a bail jumper named Dennis Lange.

  Judge sat up slightly as a dark figure slipped out the front door. Was that fucking Lange?

  He hit the button on his seat, powering it fully upright as his eyes stayed glued to that figure.

  Yeah, it was a Lange, but not of the male variety. This one had curves he recognized even under the hip-length coat.

  Where the fuck was she going at this time of night
?

  Where was she going dressed like that when it was this cold? From what he could see, as she headed to where she was parked near a streetlight, she was only wearing PJ pants and heavy slippers under that coat.

  He watched as she climbed into her Honda. Maybe she was just grabbing something. Then the brake lights illuminated and a second later, so did the headlights.

  And like that, she drove away. What the fuck?

  Where the fuck was she going? It was after eleven and she was alone.

  It wasn’t like Manning Grove was dangerous, but still... A woman alone at night...

  Plenty of those inbred Shirleys still remained up on that fucking mountain. And until they were all gone, Judge didn’t think any woman in the Grove was completely safe.

  He hit the Start button on his Ford and put it in Drive, not turning his headlights on until she had disappeared around the corner. He followed her at a distance, just staying close enough to keep her taillights in his view.

  She circled a couple of blocks like she was lost—or maybe trying to lose a tail—and then ended up on Main Street. Close to the end of town, she pulled off into an empty lot.

  A scowl pulled at his mouth. It was the lot where the Fury’s warehouse used to be. The warehouse that used to house the Original’s church. The developer who’d bought it from Trip had completely leveled the building.

  Judge pulled over to the curb on Main Street and stared at the lone CRV parked in a place that, if he allowed it, brought back memories.

  Some good. Some bad.

  But she had no ties to it. She had no history with the Fury that he knew of, which made Judge want to know what the fuck was going on. Why she had stopped there. In a place where there were no lights or people. Where she was alone in the dark.

  The reverse lights flashed as she put the Honda into Park and a second later all the cage’s lights went out. Which meant she might be staying a while.

  Was she meeting her husband there?

  Was she meeting someone for a late-night fuck?

  Judge shut down the Expedition and waited.

  And waited.

  She didn’t get out of the Honda and no one else drove onto the lot.

  He waited almost ten fucking minutes.

  Nothing.

  He needed to know what the fuck was going on with her.

  Which bothered the shit out of him. Why was he so goddamn obsessed over her? A woman who belonged to someone else.

  He had a job to do, that was it.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, getting out of his Ford and locking it.

  He walked the half block down to the former warehouse lot. He hadn’t stepped on that property in over twenty years, so a chill slid down his spine the second he did so. It was almost like stepping into the past.

  The property was bigger than it looked from the street and all that remained of the old warehouse was a large pile of scrap metal in a back corner, the large concrete slab where that metal used to be erected, a dilapidated chain link fence surrounding the boundary, and the parking lot with pot holes so large, they would become little frozen ponds once the weather turned colder.

  The whole thing was dark and fucking depressing.

  He stepped carefully over the unlit, damaged pavement, making sure he didn’t step into one of those holes and break something. Because at six-foot-three and two-forty—give or take a few pounds—when he fell, he fell hard.

  As he approached the rear of the SUV, he glanced into the driver’s side mirror, trying to get a bead on what she was doing. The interior was dark, but it looked like her face was tipped down and hidden by her hair.

  Was she talking to someone on the phone? Was she talking to her husband?

  He crept closer, his brow furrowed as her hands came up and covered her face. And he could now see she was shaking a bit.

  His heart began to pound.

  She tipped her head back, slammed it into the headrest and screamed so loudly, ice shot down his spine.

  He rushed to the driver’s door, yanked it open and she screamed again, this time with her eyes wide open and looking straight at him.

  Her hand went to her heart and her chest rose and fell quickly as she stared at him. Her voice held a shake when she pleaded, “Please... don’t hurt me... I have a daughter...”

  “Ain’t gonna hurt you. Jesus fuck. It’s Judge.”

  Her mouth dropped open and when she snapped it shut, it turned into a deep frown. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  “Should always lock your fuckin’ doors.”

  She pursed her lips and when she reached for the open door, he blocked it. “Get out of the way and I’ll lock them.”

  “Too late. Anyone coulda snagged your ass, dragged you outta your cage and...” He let that drop. So many things could’ve happened to her. Too many things.

  “Why are you here?” she asked, her eyes narrowed and now sounding more annoyed than scared.

  “Why the fuck are you here?”

  “Are you following me?”

  Fuck.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. “Where’s your motorcycle?”

  “Too fuckin’ cold for that.”

  “Then where’s your car?”

  Shit.

  “You can’t be simply strolling through town this late at night.”

  Shit.

  “Is this normal in this town, for people to be all up in your business?”

  Shit.

  Now she was getting pissed.

  “Can’t I ever get a fucking moment alone?” she yelled, her voice breaking, and her fists now clenched around the steering wheel.

  “That why you’re here?”

  “What business is it of yours?” she snapped.

  Oh yeah, she was fucking pissed.

  “Just a weird spot where you’re parked.”

  “Are you a meter maid?” she yelled, but her voice broke a little.

  Judge frowned and yanked on his beard. “This used to be club property.”

  She shook her head. “What club?”

  “My club. My father’s club.”

  “Your motorcycle gang?”

  His jaw shifted. The Fury might have been an outlaw MC once, but no longer.

  “Then I’ll just go somewhere else if I’m trespassing.”

  “Don’t gotta go nowhere.”

  “Then leave me the hell alone. Let me have my meltdown in peace.”

  A meltdown? “Why you havin’ a meltdown?”

  Her loud inhale was broken by a soft sob. “N-no reason.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She reached for the ignition and started the car. “I have to go.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. I’m apparently trespassing. I’ll go.”

  “You ain’t trespassin’. If you need to have a meltdown, then fuckin’ have it. Ain’t gonna stop you.”

  She blinked at him. “Well, I’m not going to do it while you’re standing there inside my car door. Why are you here?”

  “Saw your cage and got worried.”

  “Cage?”

  “Your Honda.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why do you call it a cage?”

  “Because it ain’t a bike.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Not for you to get.”

  “Why are you worried about me?”

  “Because it’s late, you’re alone and upset.”

  “Right. The only one of those you should know about is the first one. You shouldn’t be aware I’m alone or upset. That’s none of your damn business.”

  “Here to meet someone?”

  “Again, none of your business.”

  He was making her his business. “Why you havin’ a meltdown?”

  “Again, none of your business.”

  Jesus fuck. She could go suck her fucking husband’s dick and choke on it for all he cared.

  “You’re fuckin’ right, woman. Ain’t none of my b
usiness. I’ll go fuck off.” He slammed the door shut and spun on his heel. He strode quickly through the dark.

  Fuck that bitch.

  That was what he got for giving a fucking shit. Kicked in the fucking nuts.

  Judge had to jump out of the way when she put it in reverse so fast, she fishtailed and almost hit him.

  “What the fuck!” he shouted at her.

  She slammed on the brakes and powered down the driver’s window. “I’m sorry.”

  “Ain’t done nothin’ to you and... Just... Fuck you.” He kept moving, a muscle popping in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

  He heard the driver’s door open. “Hey!”

  Without turning around, without stopping, he yelled, “Get the fuck in your car, lock your goddamn doors and get the fuck outta here.”

  “I’m sorry!” she screamed. “I’m... I’m...”

  Then he heard it. A loud sob.

  Another one.

  And then a third.

  His pace stuttered.

  Fuckin’ keep going, asshole. Don’t let her get to you. She ain’t nothin’ but trouble. She’s fuckin’ married to your target. She’s gettin’ his dick, she don’t want yours, you big dumb fuck.

  “Thank you for checking on me.” It wasn’t loud, but he heard it.

  Goddamn it. He stopped, dropped his head, took a deep breath and, after waiting a few seconds, he turned.

  She was standing by the back of her CRV looking lost.

  So fucking lost.

  She looked the way he felt the day 5-0 took his parents away and Jemma clung to him, expecting him to be her hero.

  He wasn’t a fucking hero. He’d been nothing but a dumb fucking kid who had no idea what to fucking do.

  He’d been lost, too.

  So, for fuck’s sake, he knew that feeling. That feeling where life just slammed you in the chest so hard that you couldn’t take a breath.

  But you do anyway. And you figure it the fuck out.

  Maybe Cassidy just needed to take a breath.

  She quickly swiped at her cheeks which meant she was crying.

  Goddamn it.

  “I didn’t want Daisy to hear or see me. We share a room right now at my sister’s. If she sees or hears me having a meltdown, she’ll ask a million questions. Like you.”

  Judge said nothing.

  “Questions I don’t have answers for. And the ones I do, I’d have to lie about. I don’t want to lie to her if I don’t have to.” Her words ended on another soft sob.

 

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