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

by Jeanne St. James

  She turned her face up to him. “Do you want me in there with you?”

  He didn’t know. He was having a tough time making any kind of decision right now.

  She shook his hand which was tightly clasped in hers. “I’ll come in with you. Then if I need to slip out, I will.”

  Judge only stared at her and nodded.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Fuck no.”

  She smiled. “You haven’t seen your son in seventeen years. It can’t get worse than that.”

  “Shit could always get worse.”

  “It won’t in this case.” She put her hand on the doorknob and glanced over her shoulder at him. “You ready?”

  “Been ready for seventeen years, just didn’t realize how hard it would be.”

  She turned the knob. “Just be you,” she repeated in a whisper.

  As they stepped inside, Deacon immediately approached, stopping shoulder to shoulder with him, but with him facing the door. “Christ, this was totally unexpected,” he said under his breath just loud enough for Judge to hear him.

  No shit.

  “Not sure why he’s here, but he is. That’s the first step.”

  “Yeah,” Judge breathed.

  Deke whacked him on the back and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  “You Judd Scott?”

  Judge stared at the kid… boy… no, the young man who asked the question. When he didn’t answer, Cassie whispered a sharp, “Judge,” that shook him loose.

  “Yeah.”

  Trip was right. Ry was tall. Over six foot already. And his hair was dark blonde like his. But Trip was also right about his son not being gangly. Not at all.

  He tried to blink away the sting in his eyes, but it didn’t work.

  “Judge,” Cassie said again, squeezing his hand until it almost hurt. Then she released it and moved a step further into the living area, closer to where Ry stood by the kitchen counter.

  “You’re not Judd?” Ry asked, suddenly appearing confused.

  He swallowed, trying to loosen his throat so he could talk. “Judge is my nickname.”

  “You know who I am?”

  “Yeah. Know who you are,” he answered the boy who was no doubt his son.

  Ry began to fidget, suddenly looking very unsure of himself. “Didn’t mean to just show up like this. I… I… wasn’t sure if you’d want to meet me. Figured you might be pissed that I never responded to any of your calls or texts.”

  Judge couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t. Was this really happening? “Cassie,” he whispered.

  “Yes?” came from behind him and he hadn’t even realized he had taken steps closer to his son and Cassie had backed away.

  “Am I awake?”

  Cassie made a soft noise, then said, “Yes, baby, you’re awake. That’s really Ry standing there.”

  Ry turned his head toward Cassie. “Ry? How do you know my nickname?”

  “’Cause I gave it to you,” Judge answered, taking another step closer. He now was only a few feet away from his son. His fucking son.

  Finally.

  “You did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I hate the name Henry.”

  No surprise. “Me, too. Refused to call you that.”

  His boy smiled. “Mom would only call me Henry. It pissed me off.” That smile dropped. “She died a month ago.”

  Judge wasn’t sure whether to be sad or fucking happy about that. “Sorry.”

  “I... uh… was going through her things with my aunt and I found something in my mother’s closet.” He dug into his front pocket and pulled out an old flip phone.

  It was the one Judge had mailed to him ten years ago, hoping to make a connection with his son.

  “I wondered why she kept an outdated phone, so I found a charger and charged it. I figured the account had been closed since it was so old, but it wasn’t.”

  No, he’d kept it open and paid for it every month. Just in case.

  Just in case a day like today ever came.

  “I listened to the voicemails and read all the texts.”

  That had to take a while since there were hundreds of them. “You never saw any of them.” He didn’t make it a question because he already knew the answer.

  His son shook his head. “I had no idea you were even alive.” Ry scrunched his brow. “She told me you died in a car accident when I was a baby. That’s why she left Pennsylvania and went to California. She said she was devastated and couldn’t live with the memories.”

  Lying fucking bitch.

  He knew it was fucking wrong, but he couldn’t help hoping Jen died a slow, painful fucking death. Because no matter how she fucking suffered, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Judge having his son stolen from him. He’d suffered for seventeen fucking years.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jesus fuck. His kid was sorry, and it wasn’t even his fault.

  “So am I,” Judge said. “Just glad you know the truth now. So glad you found that phone. Glad you’re here.” He ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard, trying to keep his shit together.

  “I didn’t want you to think I ignored all those messages. I didn’t. I would’ve responded. I asked about you. Mom always said it was too upsetting for her to talk about you.”

  Christ.

  “I wanted to meet you in person, not talk to you over the phone. So, I began driving here right after graduation. I’m going off to college at the end of August, but I figured, if… if you want to, we can use my summer break to get to know each other?”

  Judge closed his eyes and once again wobbled a bit.

  “Would that be okay?”

  The uncertainty in Ry’s voice was like a knife to his heart. He opened his eyes. “Nothin’ I’d want more.”

  “I can find a place to stay nearby, maybe get a summer job while I’m here—”

  “Yeah, got you covered on all that. You can help me in my business, got a bunkroom downstairs with only a couple prospects in it. Got plenty of room.”

  He didn’t think an eighteen-year-old boy staying under the same roof with an unrelated eighteen-year-old girl was smart. Letting him stay in the bunkhouse was smarter. Ry could still be close, but independent.

  Judge took another step closer and their eyes locked. Ry had green eyes just like his old man. Fuck, it was almost like looking in the mirror when he was that age.

  But his kid seemed smarter and better looking.

  Thank fuck.

  He needed to touch his kid. To make sure he was real. Even if it was just a fucking handshake.

  Or a fist bump.

  Something.

  Anything.

  Jesus fuck, his son was standing just out of his reach. His fucking son.

  Fuck the handshake.

  Judge took two long strides to Ry and the last thing he saw was the kid’s eyes go wide as he grabbed him and pulled him into his chest, enveloping him in his arms.

  And fuck the burn in his eyes. Fuck the tears that came.

  Fuck them. He didn’t give a shit.

  If there was a time to cry, this was it. And fuck anyone who thought differently.

  He swore he stood there for at least ten minutes, refusing to let his son go.

  Afraid if he did, he’d just disappear.

  But when he finally let Ry loose, his son still stood in front of him. His kid’s eyes and nose appeared a little redder as he swiped at his cheeks.

  Yeah, this was worth crying about. For both of them.

  Hell, he heard Cassie sobbing softly behind him, too. Shit.

  “You good?” he asked Ry.

  His son nodded and sniffled.

  “Yeah, me, too.” Judge stepped back and held out his hand to Cassie. She moved closer and when she reached him, she placed hers in his. “This is my wo— ol’—your future stepmother, Cassie.”

  Cassie bumped her shoulder into him and laughed through her tears. “Hi, Ry, it’s great to meet you. I’m so glad you came. Sorr
y for crying like a baby.”

  “Me, too,” Ry said with a laugh, rubbing his forearm over his eyes.

  “Have you eaten?” Cassie asked him.

  He shook his head.

  “Why don’t we get you boys some food and you can start catching up while you eat? You two have plenty to talk about.”

  “Sounds good, baby,” Judge told her. He turned to Ry. “Why don’t you go on out? Need a sec with Cassie.”

  His son’s eyes slid from her to him, then he nodded and headed toward the door.

  “We’ll just be a second, Ry,” Cassie assured him.

  As soon as the door closed behind his son, Judge said, “Waited seventeen years. Never thought this day would come, so another second shouldn’t kill me, but it is.”

  Cassie smiled up at him. “I know. But he’s here. He came to you, Judge. That’s huge.”

  “Yeah.” Ry seeking him out gave Judge a lot of hope for the future. That maybe they had a chance to build a relationship between them.

  “What did you need to say to me?”

  “Just wanted to thank you for bein’ here. For bein’ a good woman. For lovin’ me. Today had already been a great day and it just got better.”

  Cassie nodded, her lips trembling. She was struggling with her own emotions. “The future might not always be easy, but we’ll get through it. We can work on fixing the past and building a stronger future. All of us. Together.” She reached up and stroked the length of his beard, giving him a shaky smile. “Now you can cut it all off.”

  He jerked his head back. “Bite your fuckin’ tongue.”

  “I’ll borrow some clippers.”

  “Woman…”

  “Hey, let’s go show him how great you are.” As she moved away, he grabbed her arm to stop her. She tipped her face up to him again. “You know, I was walking through a parking lot one day and I came across a whole bunch of bikers. And one in particular was huge and scary looking…”

  “Your girl wasn’t scared.”

  “No, she wasn’t. She knew better than her momma.”

  “Yeah, took you a bit to catch on.”

  Cassie laughed. “Did it?”

  “Yep. But now you love me.”

  “That I do,” she whispered.

  “And are stuck with me.”

  Her face twisted. “I guess I am.”

  “Don’t act like you don’t like takin’ my dick.”

  “Meh.” She shrugged. “It’s alright.”

  “You beg for it.”

  “Let’s not get carried away.”

  He dropped his head. “Love you, baby,” he said against her lips, then brushed his lightly over hers. They didn’t have time for him to claim her mouth like he wanted to.

  “And I love you.” She patted his chest. “Now let’s go get your son to love you, too.”

  He grunted. “Shouldn’t be hard since I’m so fuckin’ lovable. Like a giant fuckin’ teddy bear.”

  “Speaking of teddy bears, last night Jury ate the eyes off Daisy’s.”

  He guided his woman out of the apartment and began the long journey of getting to know his son.

  Their story was only just beginning.

  And he looked forward to discovering how it all played out.

  “Failure is only the opportunity to begin again, only this time more wisely.” ~ Thomas Edison

  Want more Judge, Cassie and Daisy? They attend the Manning Grove Christmas parade in

  Brothers in Blue: A Bryson Family Christmas

  Turn the page for a sneak peek at book four of the Blood Fury MC series:

  Blood & Bones: Deacon

  Sneak peek of Blood & Bones: Deacon

  Turn the page for a sneak peek of

  Blood & Bones: Deacon

  Blood Fury MC, book 4

  Blood & Bones: Deacon (Unedited)

  Prologue

  Nothing Stays the Same

  Deacon stood on the porch, watching the plain tan four-door sedan pull into the driveway. Without a word, his father and mother left him there as they went out to meet the dressed-up woman climbing out of the driver’s side.

  They exchanged words that Deke couldn’t hear. Though he wanted to. He wanted to know what was being said between the three of them and how it was going to affect him.

  His mom had said his Aunt Trixie and Uncle Ox had gotten into trouble and were in jail so his cousins now had nothing and no one.

  Deke didn’t know much about his aunt and uncle because his mother didn’t want anything to do with her brother and his wife. He had heard his parents talking about them in the past, and the word “trouble” always came up. Along with some other words Deke wasn’t allowed to say unless he wanted to be grounded.

  So, he didn’t really know his cousins, the ones who no longer had parents to take care of them, even though they hadn’t lived far away at all.

  He was only told this morning, while he was eating his Corn Pops, that his cousins, Judd and Jemma, were coming to stay with them.

  People, who were practically strangers, were coming to stay in their house.

  When his mother told him that, he dropped his spoon in his cereal bowl and splashed milk onto the kitchen table. He quickly used his napkin to clean it up before his father saw it. But Deacon said nothing until he was told he’d have to share his bedroom with Judd.

  “What? Why?” How was that fair?

  His mother had narrowed her brown eyes on him. “Because they have nowhere else to go except into the system. And we only have three bedrooms in this house. One of them needs to be for Jemma so you’ll have to share yours with Judd.”

  “Why can’t they go into the system?” He didn’t want to share his room with anyone else. He didn’t want to share his parents with other kids.

  He was happy the way things were.

  And, anyway, Judd wasn’t even his age. He was like a million years older. Why would the teenager want to share a bedroom with a ten-year-old?

  “Because despite the way my brother lived his life, they are family,” his mother said. “They didn’t choose this, they are victims of circumstance.” Whatever that meant.

  Deacon jutted out his jaw and pounded his fist on the table, making the bowl jump. “But I don’t want to share my room!”

  Deacon’s heart began to race as his father took three long strides over to him and cuffed him alongside the head. “Boy, you have everything. They have nothing. You will share your room, your toys and everything else you have with your cousins. And I don’t want to hear a word about it. They’ve already been through enough and they don’t need to hear you whining like a damn crybaby.”

  “But Dad—”

  “Not another damn word about it, boy. They’re coming here because we’re all they got. What if it was you, huh? What if something happened to me and your mother and no one gave a shit enough about you to take you in? You’d end up in some foster home and probably spend the rest of your life in and out of the system. They’ve had no guidance in their life. They need that and a roof over their heads. And we’re going to provide it.”

  Deacon’s bottom lip had trembled as he stared at the sweetened yellow puffed corn which was now floating in lukewarm milk.

  But now, not even an hour after choking down the last of that cereal, he stood on the porch and watched as his cousins got out of the back of the car and, when the woman popped the trunk open, his father grabbed two small garbage bags from it.

  They didn’t have suitcases? That was all they had?

  As his mother reached to pick up a five-year-old Jemma, Judd pushed past her, grabbed his sister and lifted her up instead. Jemma clung to her sixteen-year-old brother with her tear-stained face buried in his neck.

  Why was she crying? She getting her own damn room. Unlike Deacon. And his room wasn’t even big enough for two beds.

  His father, carrying the black plastic bags, headed toward the house.

  Judd stood in the driveway, his sister in his arms, staring at Deacon’s father’
s back, then his gaze landed on Deacon. He couldn’t tell if Judd was mad or sad, or what, because the kid’s expression didn’t change.

  It remained blank.

  Deacon’s mother wrapped an arm around Judd’s shoulders and steered him toward the house. She said something to him but Judd didn’t respond. He just walked, holding on tightly to Jemma. Like he was afraid someone would steal her from him.

  Just like he was about to steal Deacon’s room. Deacon’s life.

  As his father walked up the porch steps and passed him, he muttered, “You better drop the attitude, boy. I see it in your face and so can they. You might not have asked for this but neither did they. I’m sure they would’ve been happier staying where they were, not getting uprooted like this. So, you better think twice before you say something stupid to either of your cousins, you hear me?”

  Deacon couldn’t unglue his gaze from those two cousins, who were approaching his house. Neither of them would even be fun to hang out with. Judd was too old. Jemma too young.

  “You hear me, boy?”

  “Yes,” he forced out.

  His dad gave a sharp nod and went inside, the springs on the wooden screen door squeaking as it slammed and bounced against the frame behind him.

  Deacon spread his feet wide and crossed his arms over his chest, refusing to move out of their way as they stepped onto the porch.

  His mother released a disappointed sigh as she went around him but Judd stopped right in front of him. He waited until Deacon’s mother went inside, then his cousin, much taller than Deacon, said, “Think I want to share a room with a spoiled, snot-nosed shit like you? You think I got a choice to be here? I’m only doin’ it for my sister, that’s all.” Judd leaned down and sneered right in Deacon’s face. “So get the fuck over it, twerp. What’s mine is mine and now what’s yours is mine, too. Get used to it. Now, get the fuck outta my way.”

  Deacon stared at him for a few seconds longer. Then he moved, but not fast enough. Judd clipped Deacon’s shoulder as he pushed forward, knocking Deacon to the side.