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

by Jeanne St. James

  Now here he was, freezing his nuts off as he sat on his sled with his brothers in a formation of two lines. Being late December, it was too fucking cold for a run to celebrate Shade becoming the newest fully patched member.

  Yeah, Shade. Because Shady decided to change his road name—which had been given to him specifically as a prospect because it was an insult—to Shade. And the man owned it.

  Quietly, of fucking course.

  Cage, as Road Captain, gave the signal and they all revved their engines as Shade strode between both lines. When he got to the front door of The Barn, Trip stood there and handed him his cut with all rockers and patches. As soon as the prez and Shade clasped hands and bumped shoulders, they all cheered and shut down their sleds.

  Even though Judge was not in the mood, it was time to party.

  But first he’d warm up his fucking nuts by the fire. He’d prefer to be warming up in bed next to Cassie, but she was working the bar while Dodge, Trip and Stella were at the celebration.

  It sucked for Judge. Yeah, he’d prefer to have his woman by his side, but she had a job to do and needed the money. Plus, Stella had no one to take Cassie’s spot and until she did, Cassie was stuck working during the club parties.

  But Judge was going to make sure that changed. He might have a plan for her—where she wouldn’t have to work late nights anymore—if she was willing to stay in town. And by staying in Manning Grove, that meant staying with him.

  He hadn’t talked to her about it yet. Hell, he hadn’t even talked to Trip or the exec committee yet. But he would. Right now he needed to concentrate on finding Lange. Once Cassie’s divorce was final, she’d be free to plan her future.

  Hopefully, with him in it.

  Because, fuck him, he’d been on the edge the whole time in Rochester, being away from her. At first, he thought it was because he was anxious to find Lange. Then Deke laughed at him and told Judge why he was being a cranky motherfucker.

  It took a couple more days before he admitted Deke was right. Though, he didn’t tell Deke that. No fucking way. He was not getting ridden raw by his cousin.

  After putting his sled away in the shed, he made his way back to The Barn with Jury on his heels. He thought about leaving her with Daisy while Cassie worked but he’d missed his damn dog when he’d been away.

  As much as he missed Cassie.

  And her little hell-on-wheels was growing on him, too.

  The first stop inside the busy clubhouse was to grab a beer, then he sat by the roaring fire in the center circular fireplace, kicked up his boots and lit a fatty.

  The music was blaring, the club’s sweet butts were making their availability known by making rounds, and Shade was banging down shots at the bar with a bunch of their brothers.

  Nobody was getting through the night without getting fucked or, at least, fucked up. Including Judge.

  He was giving himself the night off, then tomorrow he’d be back in the office taking care of his business, as well as making some calls to try to put out some feelers around the country for Lange. He wasn’t sure it would do any good, but it was better than doing nothing.

  Trip dropped down beside him on the bench and held out his hand. Judge passed the joint and watched his prez take a long hit, hold it for a good ten seconds and then blow it at Angel, one of the newest sweet butts, when she approached, her eyes focused with a purpose on Judge.

  “Get lost,” Trip growled at her.

  Angel, who had to be barely twenty-one, if that, and way too thin for Judge’s taste, shot the prez a scowl and then headed toward the crowd at the bar, looking even more determined to get her claws into someone wearing a cut tonight.

  Trip twisted his head toward him. “Figured you weren’t interested in hittin’ that. I wrong?”

  Judge snagged the joint back after Trip took a second hit. He took another one himself and after he blew it out, said, “Nope. First off, too young. And she don’t have anythin’ to hang on to when she’s ridin’ my cock. She ain’t enough to smother me. If I ain’t strugglin’ for my next breath when my face is between her tits or thighs...” He grinned.

  Trip returned the grin. “Didn’t think that’s the reason you wouldn’t be interested. Was thinkin’ it was ‘cause she ain’t blonde and her name ain’t Cassie.”

  Judge passed the pot back to him and picked up his beer from the floor near his feet. He tipped the bottle to his lips. “Might be another reason.” He let the cold beer slide down his throat.

  “No luck in New York?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Now what?

  Judge lifted and dropped one shoulder. “No fuckin’ clue. Asshole left no trace. Just disappeared.”

  “Feel bad for her, tryin’ to raise her girl and in some fuckin’ limbo ‘cause her husband fucked her. And not in a good way. Screwed his family, then split. That ain’t a man, that’s a fuckin’ coward. She’s left holdin’ the flamin’ bag of dog shit while he could be on a tropical island somewhere livin’ off the scratch he skimmed, drinkin’ a Corona and suckin’ on a fuckin’ lime wedge.”

  “If he is, hope the fucker chokes on that lime.”

  “Never know, maybe he’s dead.”

  Judge thought about that possibility. “I’d be all right with that if—and that’s a big fuckin’ if—Cassie got a death certificate. That might free her of his debt.”

  “Or as the widow, make her responsible. Not sure. Don’t know how any of that fuckin’ shit works.”

  He didn’t, either, and a lawyer might have to get involved if that was the case. However, a lawyer cost a good amount of scratch. Money Cassie didn’t have.

  “If that’s true, need to find his ass alive and get him to sign those divorce papers.” In truth, he wasn’t even sure that would clear her of all the debt, but Cassie seemed to think it would.

  Trip sipped on his own beer as they both stared into the flames. “When I was down in Shadow Valley with the Dirty Angels, met a few guys, not sure if they were mercenaries or not, but definitely some kind of former special ops. They worked for the DAMC’s enforcer at In the Shadows Security. Do all kinds of jobs. Diesel, the enforcer, said they’re the best. Remember Slade who just came up here? My Marine buddy? He vouched for that crew, too. Said they could find or lose anyone. Got a problem? They could make that problem disappear.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. Rub is, they ain’t cheap. Gotta take a goddamn mortgage out to hire ‘em, but they get the job done. They could probably find his ass, in case you and Deacon can’t.”

  “You know she don’t have the scratch for that.”

  He hated to drop that kind of dough, but he would if he needed to. He’d put a little money aside in case Ry ever took Judge up on him paying for college. Even if his son wanted nothing to do with him, Judge still wanted to make sure his son’s future was set.

  Trip flipped his baseball cap off his head, then jerked it back on. One of the habits the man had when he was thinking hard. Or hardly thinking. “Yeah, know it. Feel bad for her, gettin’ fucked like that. She’s workin’ really fuckin’ hard at Pete’s. Workin’ that bar again tonight by herself. Stel trusts her completely and knows she’ll get the job done.”

  “Yeah, she’s exhausted every night. Daisy keeps her on her fuckin’ toes, too. And with not havin’ help ‘cause her sister and her man are gone...”

  Trip’s lips twitched. “Apparently she’s got you. Sig said you haven’t slept in your apartment all week.”

  Fuckin’ Sig. “Was up in Rochester.”

  “Before and after.” When Judge didn’t answer, Trip continued, “Anyway, the Shadows are an option, even if they’re an expensive option to hunt that fucker down.”

  “If I keep runnin’ into dead ends, will give it more thought.” Judge took a deep breath. “Wanna run somethin’ by you.”

  Trip paused his beer bottle at his lips. “Shoot.”

  “Know she’s a vet tech, right?”

  “Yeah, Stel said she was.�
��

  “Once she’s free of that asshole, thinkin’ she’s gonna need a better job than workin’ at Pete’s. Needs to make some real scratch for her and her girl.”

  “Yeah. And?”

  “We now got that pet crematorium...”

  “Don’t need a vet tech to flip the switch on an oven or scoop the ashes into a bag. Ain’t much better than what she’s doin’ now.”

  “Thinkin’ we could expand the business.”

  Trip set his beer bottle on his thigh and frowned at Judge. “You were thinkin’? Did it hurt when you did it?” He snorted. “What kind of expansion? You run it by Deke?”

  “Not yet. Wanted to run it by you first.”

  Trip slowly turned the sweating bottle within his fingers. “Hit me with it.”

  “Not sure if she’d be willin’ to do it, but it could make her and the club some decent scratch and it goes along with the crematorium.” He cringed as he stared at Jury crashed at his feet, soaking up the heat of the fire. The whole crematorium thing just gave him the fucking creeps.

  “You gonna spit it the fuck out?”

  “Thinkin’—”

  Trip snorted. “There you go again. Gonna fuckin’ hurt yourself doin’ that.”

  “That we could start a mobile pet euthanasia service. She’s good with people, she’s got the experience workin’ with pets. She’s certified. She could use the van, go to people’s homes, do it in their house so the dog or whatever ain’t freaked out because family’s there. She does what she needs to do, comforts the family, and then brings the pet back to the crematorium. Full-service euthanasia.”

  Trip shuddered. “Christ.”

  “Yeah, bugs me, too, but it’s a growin’ service and there’s good money in it. Pet owners are leanin’ more and more that direction instead of draggin’ their dog, cat or whatever into the vet to get it done. Jury hates goin’ to the vet, stresses the fuck out. When it comes time...” He didn’t even want to finish that sentence. It turned his fucking stomach. “It’s somethin’ I’d use. Deke, too. Figure a lot of people might and there ain’t one around here.”

  “You already did the research.”

  “Couldn’t sleep in Rochester. Sat up and surfed the net on my phone, tryin’ to figure out how to help her.”

  Trip stared at him, not hiding his surprise. “Seriously stuck on her. That was fuckin’ quick, brother.”

  Yeah, Judge agreed, it was quick. “Not any quicker than Sig with Red.”

  “Yeah, well, that whole thing with them was fucked up and not typical. Still ain’t. Might never be.”

  “They make it work. Better together than apart,” Judge murmured.

  “Think that’s you and Cassie, too? Think she’d make you a better man?”

  He wasn’t sure.

  “Damn well know my ol’ lady makes me a better fuckin’ man. No doubt ‘bout it and got no problem sayin’ it. Will get it tattooed on my fuckin’ forehead.” Trip turned his head until he found Stella standing over by Dodge and Cage, laughing at something. Probably at those two being assholes. “Fuckin’ woman got me good. Couldn’t do this shit without her.”

  “Your fuckin’ queen,” Judge murmured.

  “Yeah,” Trip whispered. “My fuckin’ queen. No fuckin’ doubt.”

  “Just don’t turn this into Buck’s kingdom.”

  Trip, with his eyes still glued to Stella across the barn, nodded. “Yeah. Workin’ too damn hard to destroy it all like he did. Hopefully, the good men sittin’ with me at that table up there,” he pointed to the ceiling, “won’t have any problem tellin’ me if I start slippin’ toward the dark side.”

  “You givin’ me permission to knock you upside the fuckin’ head if you do?”

  Trip grinned and picked at the corner of the bottle’s soggy label. “Fuck yeah. Told Stella she could have you kick my ass if I ever do anythin’ to hurt her. Same with this club. I fuck up with this club, kick my fuckin’ ass. Means I deserve it. Wanna do this right. Wanna raise my sons on this farm, in this club, in our family of brothers.”

  Judge would love to have his own son here on the farm with him. He never told Trip about him and wasn’t planning on doing it anytime soon.

  “Gotta knock her up to have sons.”

  Trip grinned again. “When she’s ready.”

  “Probably have daughters instead.”

  The prez’s grin widened. “Then gonna raise a coupla badass girls. Won’t cry about what Stella gives me, long as she gives ‘em to me.”

  “And if she don’t?” Judge knew Stella had lost a child; he just didn’t know the details. If Trip or Stella wanted him to know, they would tell him. Otherwise, wasn’t his business. Just like Ry wasn’t anyone’s business, either. Brothers or not. They all had secrets. Every fucking one of them.

  Trip’s grin flipped upside down. “Then I gotta live with her decision. She comes first, the rest is just a fuckin’ bonus.”

  Judge watched the prez’s ol’ lady, dressed in curve-fitting jeans and her normal rock-star clothes, grab a drink from behind the bar, then head in their direction. “She’ll give you babies, Trip. She loves you too much. Loved you since you were a fuckin’ asshole kid. Back then she said she was gonna marry you and she was fuckin’ right. You both just took a crazy ass path to get there.”

  “Yeah, nobody felt right ‘til her. Knew it the second I spotted her at the bar that day. When I realized who she was, it was like goddamn fate clubbed me right in the head.”

  Just like Sig knew it the second he rescued Autumn in the woods that morning.

  Just like Judge knew it the second he saw Cassie walking through the parking lot in town.

  It had probably hit Sig and Trip in the gut, just like it had hit Judge’s.

  “So, about that idea I mentioned?” Judge asked as Stella reached them and settled in Trip’s lap, giving her man a soft smile.

  “Wanna go back to the bar, baby, then walk back to me? I could watch that show all over again,” Trip told his ol’ lady.

  She lifted a dark eyebrow. “I could, but I’m comfy right where I’m at now.”

  “Soon you won’t be when my dick’s pokin’ your ass ‘cause you make me hard as fuck.” He turned his head toward Judge. “Yeah, will think on it. Do a little research of my own. The more scratch we got comin’ in from different avenues the better. To do that we need successful businesses with reliable help. Lemme talk to Deke about it, too, since he’s got a good business sense. Don’t wanna do it just to give your woman a job and then it ends up bleedin’ funds from the club.”

  Stella glanced from Trip to Judge and back. “What business are you talking about and by saying ‘your woman’ I assume you mean Cassie? And if so, does that mean I might be losing her?”

  “Was only just temporary, Stel,” Judge said. “She told you that. Woman’s got a fuckin’ degree she’s not usin’ right now. Needs more than tips.”

  “She knows how to work the crowd, Judge. She makes good money in tips.”

  “But don’t want her closin’ the bar late at night. Don’t really want her workin’ the bar at all.”

  Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

  “’Cause I don’t.”

  “Not your call,” she reminded him.

  “Not yet. But will be.” He grimaced that he let that slip.

  “Does she know that?” Stella asked with a deep frown.

  Judge flattened his lips and stared at the flames.

  “Does she know what you’re planning?” Stella prodded. “Just a word of advice, women like Cassie don’t like a man stepping in and making life decisions for her.” She turned her face toward Trip. “Right?”

  Trip put his beer bottle to his lips and kept quiet. Smart fucking man.

  “Right,” she answered her own question.

  “Just workin’ on givin’ her options,” Judge said.

  “Sounds like your putting your boot down about her working at Pete’s. That’s what it sounded like to me. She can handle her
self just fine. She knows how to handle the men getting out of line.”

  Judge’s spine snapped straight. “Assholes are gettin’ outta line with her?”

  “It’s a bar, Judge. With booze,” Stella reminded him like he was Daisy’s age.

  “Just proved my point, Stel. I see someone gettin’ handsy with her, gonna break some fuckin’ fingers.”

  Stella smiled and whispered, “Damn. You got it bad.”

  Trip finally spoke up. “Yeah, he does. Can see Cassie bein’ claimed at the table soon.”

  “No claimin’ ‘til she scrapes off that fuckin’ ex of hers.”

  “Lemme go find a fuckin’ chisel,” Trip said. “Like her. Think she’s a good woman and would make a good ol’ lady.”

  “Weeeellll, big guy,” Stella started, leaning over and patting Judge’s thigh. “First she’d have to decide to stay in Manning Grove. Then she’d need to decide if she wants to be with you. Then she’d need to decide whether she’d want to be an ol’ lady. See how I said, ‘she would need to decide,’ and not ‘you?’ You can’t force her to do anything. Being an ol’ lady takes a special type of woman.” She shot Judge a smile. “But I agree with my ol’ man. She’d make a great ol’ lady. Woman’s got a spine and the right attitude. And bonus, she’d keep you in your place.”

  “Ain’t lookin’ for a woman to keep me in my fuckin’ place,” he grumbled.

  Trip snorted. “With her, that’s what you’re gonna get.”

  Stella laughed. “It’s not as bad as you think. Right, Trip?”

  Again, Trip tipped his almost empty beer bottle to his lips to avoid answering.

  “Anyway, it would be nice to have another sister. But let it be her choice, please. Speaking of sisters, I’m going to go talk to Autumn and save her from Lizzy, who is talking her damn ear off. Give me a kiss, baby, while you’re sober since I have a feeling you’ll be passed out cold later.” After a thorough kiss, she climbed out of Trip’s lap and grabbed his empty. “Want another beer?”

  “I’ll get it.”

  Stella nodded and headed back over to the bar. They both watched her go.