The Last Good Knight

by Tiffany Reisz

  and wants to keep him but is faced with a dilemma—if she uses her connections to help Lance, she’ll have to give him up forever....

  Contents

  The Last Good Night

  Acknowledgments

  Nora marched right up to the judge’s front door and rang the bell.

  “Nora, I don’t want you getting into trouble for me.” Lance took her hand. “Let’s go. I can figure my own problems out.”

  “You can go if you want, but I’m staying. I’m not happy unless I’m getting in trouble. Don’t you want me to be happy?” She gave him her most ingratiating, innocent, and utterly fake smile.

  “You’re evil.”

  “Well...obviously.” She patted him on the cheek as patronizingly as she could. Mrs. B. opened the door and gave Nora a look of surprise.

  “Hello there, dear. I didn’t think you had an appointment tonight.” Mrs. B. ushered Nora and Lance inside.

  “No appointment. Is the judge home? I need to talk to him about a legal issue.”

  “Did you get arrested again?” Mrs. B looked like a worried mother hen.

  “No, I promise. Not this week. Not yet, anyway.”

  “That’s good to hear,” Mrs. B said. “The judge is in his office. Go on in.”

  Nora thanked the woman, and she and Lance headed back down the hall. Nora found Judge B at his desk, his nose buried in a massive legal tome. He gave her a beatific smile as she walked in.

  “Miss Nora, what brings you here?” He came around his desk, and kissed Nora on the cheek.

  “I need a favor, Judge. Or maybe just legal advice.”

  “Did you get arrested again?” he asked, giving her a stern look.

  “Why does everyone always ask me that? Don’t answer that,” she said. “Judge B., this is Lance. He’s my bodyguard, and he’s got a problem. Tell him your problem, Sailor.”

  “I’m all ears,” Judge B said, motioning Nora and Lance to sit. They moved books off the chairs and sat down while the judge sat on the edge of the desk and gave them his full attention.

  Lance told the judge the same story he’d told Nora—the quick marriage, the deployment, the daughter, the wound in his back and the surgeries, the wife who’d withheld sex, the pornography and the custody fight, the only fight Lance had ever lost.

  The judge nodded as he listened, asked a few questions here and there. At the end they all sat in silence waiting for the judge’s verdict.

  “Son...” the judge finally said, “you got screwed.”

  Lance laughed and shook his head. “I did and it was the worst sex I ever had.”

  “All this over some porn?” Judge B. sounded disgusted. “Who doesn’t watch porn?”

  “Blind people?” Nora offered her best and only guess. “And Lance wasn’t even watching the really good porn.”

  “Subspace.com?” the judge asked, sound disappointed. Personal experience, no doubt.

  “That. Can’t stand that tame shit,” Nora said. “The good stuff’s on Kinkster.com.”

  “It’s pay-per-view, though,” Judge B. said.

  “But it’s worth every penny. They’ve got the best group sex vid on there. Lots of feet action.”

  “Can you send me the link?”

  “Excuse me,” Lance interjected. “Are we talking about my legal situation or where to find the best kinky porn?”

  “Why can’t we talk about both?” Nora asked Lance who replied with only a glare. “Fine, back on subject. So Lance got screwed. What can he do about it?”

  The judge adjusted his glasses as he spoke.

  “I can help. Definitely. If everything you’ve told me is true—”

  “It is,” Lance said.

  “Then there is some hope. I know the judge you had—Hawkins? Hate that self-righteous bastard. He sides with the mothers in 95 percent of his cases no matter what the circumstances. I can suggest a good attorney, and we’ll get your case moved to another judge. We’ll have to petition the court for a new hearing based on new circumstances—”

  “What new circumstances?” Lance asked. “Nothing’s really changed.”

  “Considering your fitness as a parent was called into question, you’ll probably need a psychiatric evaluation, a thorough one. Once the psych eval clears you of being an unfit parent, then you’ll have plenty of ammunition in your fight.”

  “I can do that, definitely. You think it’ll work?”

  The judge nodded. “Yes. Once we get you in a new courtroom, which I can handle, and your attorney presents your psych eval and any other new evidence...should at least get you joint custody.”

  “That’s all I want. I don’t want to take Maya from her mom.”

  “That attitude is the right one to have. This battle is for your daughter, not against your ex-wife. A bad attitude can doom a case. But speaking of dooming a case...”

  Judge B. turned his gaze from Lance and onto Nora.

  “What?” Nora asked. “What did I do this time?”

  “You exist,” Judge B. said.

  “That’s not my fault,” Nora said. “I didn’t ask to be born. Which is good because my mother probably would have said no.”

  The judge gave a tired, nervous laugh.

  “My dear...I could not be more grateful that you exist,” he said. “But am I correct in assuming this young man is slightly more than just a bodyguard?”

  “We did have sex today. A lot of it,” she admitted without shame.

  “That’s going to be an issue.” The judge looked from Nora to Lance. Nora felt her stomach starting to tighten with fear.

  “How much of an issue?” Lance reached out and took Nora’s hand. The touch comforted her, but her stomach remained taut with worry.

  “A big one. This beautiful young lady lives and works on the outskirts of legality. She assaults people for money and is paid in cash, probably under the table.”

  “I take the Fifth.” Nora’s stomach knot twisted tighter.

  “Does he know the rest?” the judge asked her and Nora winced.

  “No. Not yet.”

  “There’s a rest?” Lance looked at her with a gaze that said “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “You mean more than you being a professional Dominatrix?”

  “Sort of,” she said.

  “More than sort of.” The judge walked over to his bookcase and ran his hands along the spines. He pulled out a rather battered-looked paperback novel. Nora held her breath. “Here you go, son. Ever read the books by this lovely lady?”

  Lance stared at the cover. “The Runaway by...Nora Sutherlin. Nora, you write books?”

  “I am exercising my right to remain silent.”

  “Guilty on all charges. And I might throw the book at you.” Judge B. tossed her book at her. “Even if no one in the courtroom knew about Miss Nora’s moonlighting as a Dominatrix, it’s public record that she’s an erotica writer.”

  “I had no idea you were famous,” Lance said, looking both impressed and concerned.

  “I’m a writer. I’m the opposite of famous.”

  “Infamous,” the judge supplied. “Shall I tell him what the book’s about or will you?”

  “I write my own copy all the time. I’ll do it. It’s loosely based on the story of Daphne and Apollo, except in this case Daphne is a sixteen-year-old girl who lives in a group home and is being pursued by the handsome older off-duty cop who accidentally killed her violent twin brother while restraining him during a fight. It’s actually a sweet love story. You know, apart from all the statutory rape.”

  Lance buried his face in his hands.

  “In a child custody case, everything is evidence including the works of fiction written by the father’s new girlfriend.”

  “You’re not helping my case here, Judge B.” Nora pointed her finger at him. He raised his hands in surrender.

  “You wanted the truth and my help. I’m simply telling it like it is.” The judge sighed heavily. “Of course, it does get worse.”

  “
Worse?” Lance’s eyes widened in horror. “What’s worse?”

  “The lovely Miss Nora works for Kingsley Edge who I assume you also work for, yes?”

  “Yes,” Lance said, his lips tightening into a thin line of worry.

  “Kingsley Edge is the last person in this city you want to be involved with when fighting for custody of a child. No matter his virtues as an individual, his enterprise is slightly... What’s the word I’m looking for?”

  “Illegal,” Nora said, swallowing a hard knot in the throat.

  “More than that,” the judge continued, “it’s dangerous. With that much money involved, that many important people who have a lot to lose are involved...let’s just say it’s not going reflect well on you to be on his payroll.”

  “So I quit the job?” Lance asked. Nora could hear the disappointment in his words, the reluctance.

  “You’ll have to if you want your daughter back. You’re no longer in the Navy?”

  “No. Medical discharge. Honorable discharge,” he said.

  “Were you awarded any medals?”

  “Maybe,” he said and left it at that.

  “That’s good. I can make sure we get you a new judge, a judge who has a military background. As a veteran, a wounded and decorated veteran, you should have a very good chance for equal custody. Have you considered rejoining the Navy?”

  “Not really an option. I was offered a job in defense contracting from a company that works with the Navy in Rhode Island.”

  “With SPECWAR?” Nora asked.

  Lance narrowed his eyes at her. “How do you know about that?”

  Nora mimed locking her lips and throwing away the key.

  “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” She had a rather important client there she would hate to piss off. Damn good tipper.

  “How’s the pay?” the judge asked Lance.

  “Stellar. But it’s a desk job. I like to be active. That’s why I wanted to work for Kingsley running security at his clubs, helping people in a hands-on way. Sitting in front of a computer isn’t my idea of serving people.”

  “It might be worth swallowing your pride over. Getting your paycheck from a legitimate employer will reflect much better on you than a paycheck from Kingsley Edge. There’s no bones about it, young man. I can get you in front of a sympathetic judge, I can help you find a good lawyer, I can tell you which psychologist to call for your psych eval, but the rest is up to you. If you want your daughter back, you’re going to have to say goodbye to this world, goodbye to your job with Kingsley and goodbye to Mistress Nora.”

  Lance fell silent. Nora looked up at Judge B. who could only smile apologetically at her. She leaned forward and squeezed his hand, grateful for his honesty even if his honesty hurt.

  “So let me get this straight...” Lance stood up and started to pace the small cluttered office. “I have dreamed for two years about getting my daughter back. I have dreamed for sixteen years about finding the perfect woman for me. I find the perfect woman for me and find out how to get my daughter back, but...to get my daughter back, I have to give up the perfect woman.”

  “If it makes you feel any better,” Nora said, turning to face him, “I’m not the perfect woman.” If Lance thought she was perfect, maybe they should go their separate ways.

  “Perfect or not,” Judge B. said, “you are correct. Being involved with her would give your ex-wife’s attorney all the ammunition they need to keep you away from your daughter. Is it fair? No, not at all. I have nine grandchildren and would let Miss Nora babysit for them in a heartbeat. But what is fair is rarely a question the courts bothering answering. What is right is often thrown under the bus in favor of what looks right.”

  “But you’re a client of hers.” Lance faced the judge and pointed at Nora. “How is it okay for you to be involved with her and not me?”

  “That’s a good question but with an ugly answer. I’m a judge, you aren’t. Also, I have money and influence, and I’m only a year or two away from retirement. I could retire tomorrow, but I love my work and feel like I still have something to offer. My children are grown and they all have an inkling about my interests so they’d hardly be shocked by a scandal. They certainly would never try to keep my grandchildren from me. If it came to light that I saw this lovely lady once a week, I’d retire early, taking some ribbing from friends and colleagues, and move down to Boca with my wife.”

  Lance sat back down again with a heavy sigh.

  “There’s no other way?” he asked, looking up at the judge with imploring eyes.

  “Son, I wish I could tell you something different. I wish I could tell you that there weren’t two sets of rules out there for rich, important people like me and normal people like you. I wish I could tell you there wasn’t a separate set of rules for men and women. I could tell you that but it would be a lie and you know it. And lying to you won’t help you get your daughter back.”

  “What do I do now?” Lance asked after a long and heavy silence.

  “You get out of this world and you don’t look back,” Judge B. said. “Cut off contact with her, with Kingsley, with this whole world. You get your psych evaluation to prove you’re a fit parent. Take the job with a civilian defense contractor if it pays well and looks good for the courts.”

  “But Lance is kinky,” Nora protested, ready to scream at the unfairness. “That’s like telling a gay man to be straight so he can have custody of his kid.”

  “Yes, and if that gay man wanted custody of his child badly enough he’d do it or at least put on a damn good show for the court. Look, I’m not saying you have to give up this lifestyle. If in a year or two after you win custody back you find a nice girl who has a job at a bank or is a schoolteacher...and she just happens to enjoy role-play in the bedroom, then that’s fine. It’s between you two. You won’t do it while your daughter’s in the house. You won’t leave any evidence of it lying around. But you running around town with a professional Dominatrix who writes hard-core erotica and gets arrested every other week is going to get you and your case laughed right out of court.”

  “I have to do it now?” Lance asked, and Nora’s heart broke at the question. Broke for him and broke for her. She already knew the answer before the judge gave it to them.

  “I would suggest it. The sooner the better. The more time you spend with her the more likely it is someone will find out, the more likely your ex-wife will find out. There’s no privacy in this world anymore. The Internet has killed that fantasy. All it takes is one person knowing or one picture or one rumor spreading...your ex-wife can hire a private detective and get all the evidence she needs in an hour to keep you away from your daughter. Most judges don’t know their asses from a hole in the ground, so trying to explain the difference between a Dominatrix and a prostitute... Well, you’d have a better chance teaching me how to tap-dance on the moon. Or teaching the Miss Nora here...”

  “Math,” she suggested. “I’m really bad at math.”

  “Here’s some math even you can do then,” the judge said, giving her a kind but hopeless smile. “You plus Lance equals no custody for his daughter.”

  Nora swallowed a hard lump in her throat.

  “I fucking hate math.”

  Nora and Lance thanked the judge for his honesty and his time, and they left the house with nothing but heavy hearts and another bag of Mrs. B.’s chocolate chip cookies.

  “What do you want to do?” Nora asked once inside the car. “I can take you home.”

  “I don’t want to go home.” Lance leaned his head against the window. “I want to go to your house, spend the night with you and never leave your bed again.”

  “I want that, too.” Nora put her hand on his knee and squeezed. “But you heard what Judge B. said.”

  “I heard.”

  “Lance...Listen to me. This is your Mistress talking.”

  “Fine, I’m listening.”

  “I’m crazy about you. But we just met a few days ago. The sex is amazing and you’re a
mazing, but this is something bigger than both of us.”