Tremble (Terraway Book 2)

by Mary E. Twomey

  Darius stood to greet me with a wide smile that looked like his heart had been aching without it, but Judge held up his ebony hand. The hostess was waved away, and the two hired hands who stood like personality-minus gargoyles on either side of the table moved forward to pat us down. Mason and Von shot me looks of warning, but managed not to get themselves shot.

  I held up my hand when the goon I knew as Big Mike moved forward to check me for hidden bazookas, or whatever he assumed me to be carrying. “Touch me, and I’ll break every one of your pretty little fingers, Michael.” I liked to call Judge’s long-time guard by his formal name because I knew it unnerved him. Watching his eyes narrow predictably, but hearing him say nothing to correct me, was one of my small joys. “Darius can do the honors. I know what your hands have been up to, and I don’t need them on me, young man.” I grinned inwardly at his intake of breath that always happened when I chastised him like a mama would, though he was at least fifteen years my senior. He never knew what to do with me when I stuck a wrench in the one fragile portion of his psyche. Ah, mind games. I missed it.

  Judge raised his eyebrow at me, sitting back in his chair and sizing up every move I made with a curious expression, as if he needed to figure me out. As if I hadn’t told him time and time again what kind of girl I was and what kind I wasn’t.

  Judge and Darius McCray shared the same midnight eyes, full lips, rounded dark cheeks and long fingers, but the similarities stopped with the physical. Darius was a sweetheart, and Judge’s soul had been running on empty for a long time. Judge motioned to his younger brother to get on with it. The three other guests at the table kept their curious glances in my direction to a minimum, which I appreciated. I knew I was interrupting something official and important, but Judge let me, as I knew he would.

  Darius squinted one eye at me and did the usual pat down with a smirk at the thought that I would ever be caught with a gun. “She’s clean. Good to see you, Bait.” His smile bloomed as he bumped my fist and brought me in for a quick one-armed dude hug before releasing me. Darius always had the prettiest eyelashes – a feature many a girl had been done in by.

  Judge came around the table and kissed both my cheeks, touching my chin to control the tilt of my head. I could feel Mason’s human hackles raising behind me, though clearly there was no intention to Judge’s kiss. I mean, dude was thirty-four. Plus, it was Judge – the big brother figure who’d been the sun and moon in my eyes, back when I was too young to know better. I probably should’ve explained some of this to Mason and Von before we got here, but couldn’t bring myself to drudge up the whole story. “Always good to see you, baby girl. Have a seat.” Judge pulled out my chair for me like a gentleman, leaving Mason and Von to stand sentry behind me. Judge conducted himself more professionally than Darius did. He stood straighter, spoke clearer and saw himself as the rest of the world did – a dangerous man with an empire and a plan for more.

  Darius was all smiles at the unexpected intermission I provided from the mayhem. I could tell he’d been working too much and dealing with the lowest common denominator of people. “How’s Ollie and Allie? Any word from our girl yet?”

  Darius had dated Allie once upon a time. She’d left us with no warning a few months after they’d broken it off. Ollie blamed Darius for Allie splitting on us, but I knew Darius had genuinely cared for Allie, so it couldn’t have been that.

  “Ollie was just in town, actually. I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear from you when he comes back for good. Allie’s still in California. Though next time I talk to her, I’ll tell her you want a rematch from your last dance contest.” It was our longstanding joke. Darius was a terrific dancer, and Allie’s best (and only) move was the Running Man.

  Darius clapped his hands twice and chuckled. Darius had a great laugh that sounded like pure goofiness, and had a hint of a hiccup somewhere in the middle. I hoped (but doubted) that he still exercised it often. “It’s good to see you, kid. You still the smartest person I know?”

  “Looks like I just might be, if this is the company you keep.” I looked around at Big Mike and Ike (I didn’t actually know the second guard’s name. We’ll go with Ike). At the table were Judge, Darius and the three other men who needed a good trip to church. They didn’t look thrilled to have a woman at the table.

  I knew that if I wanted any credibility, I needed to keep control of the conversation, which meant not speaking to Judge first. There was a weighted silence as I met Judge’s gaze and held it with a patient smile, communicating to him that I could do this silent standoff all friggin’ day. He shouldn’t have taught me so well if he didn’t want me to use his own power tactics to piss him off.

  Darius wasn’t up to that particular challenge, and was the first to crack, the sweetie. “You wanted to see us?”

  I pointed to the brothers. “You two, yes, but I don’t know these three future inmates. You can keep the guards, but I need to talk to you privately.” The man on Judge’s left gave an irritated scoff, while the two in the chairs on either side of me scowled.

  Judge leaned his elbows on the table, his mocha-colored hands together like he was praying, his lips resting on the tips. His eyes were always studying, always trying to figure me out. “I trust everyone at this table,” Judge said to me in a challenge, letting me know he wasn’t thrilled I was trying to control the seating configuration.

  “I’m happy you’ve found people you can trust. Me? Not so much. Hazards of the job, I guess.” I sat back in the chair and waited, crossing my ankle over my knee to let him know I had all the time in the world. Mason brushed the back of my neck to pull a small amount of anxiety from me. “Trust,” I snorted with a soft smile. “That’s downright precious.”

  14

  Believing in Circuses

  I knew Judge was unhappy that I’d rearranged his table. It was too much control I’d taken too soon, but again, Judge conceded the decision to me, telling the men to go wait at the bar. “You know, for someone with something to say, you don’t have a whole lot I want to hear. You’re lucky we go way back.”

  I tried to sit tall and not let myself feel like a child sitting at the grownups table. I mean, the man had taught me how to tie my shoes, for crying out loud. I cleared my throat. “That’s why I came. Family.”

  Darius clutched his fork, but tried to slice the anxious edge from his voice. “Everything alright with T? How about Fender?”

  “Everything’s fine with your men in lockup, as far as I know. I came here for a couple reasons. One’s that I know Terence is up for parole next year. If he gets out, I want you to make sure he sees a doctor for the growth on his foot. It’s benign now, but those things can turn malignant in a heartbeat. Also, he’s been around too much gunfire, thanks to you two dummies being up to things you just plain shouldn’t. He’s lost fifty percent of his hearing in his left ear, but he’s too stubborn to let me fit him for a hearing aid. Make sure to talk some sense into him once he gets out.”

  Judge’s eyebrows rose, stunned that this was the big thing I’d finally wanted to meet with him about. “That’s… Okay. We can do that. He’s alright now though?”

  “I saw him last month, so that’s as much as I know.”

  “What about Fender?” Darius inquired.

  “Fender’s a hot head. I don’t have a medical cure for that.” I cleared my throat. “If he ever gets out, I wouldn’t have him moving merchandise anymore.” That was my fancy way of telling them Fender couldn’t steal cars without being a liability. “You’ll have to get him a new nickname, like Burger Flipper or something. Utter shame. ‘Fender’ was so covert ops.”

  Darius gave me a condescending smile. “We all know you have a conscience. What a good little girl you still are. You going to tell me I should be going to church next? You know, no matter how big you get, I still always want to pat you on the head.”

  I pursed my lips to keep on topic. “I didn’t come here to talk about my choices or lecture you on yours. My conscience isn’t actuall
y all that stellar these days. I’m telling you not to have Fender moving merchandise because he was in a yard fight a couple months ago. His hand was broken in several places, and as much as we can set something right again, his left hand doesn’t have the same functionality and flexibility it used to. I’d put him in physical therapy first thing if he ever gets out, and I wouldn’t trust his dexterity to hotwire a toaster. His pride will tell you otherwise, but he’ll get caught easily, and end up right back in lockup.”

  Judge nodded sincerely at me, always taking careful mental notes whenever we met. “Thank you for coming to me with that. I’ll see to it.”

  I cleared my throat, gearing up for the big speech. “Also, I wanted you to hear it from me that I don’t work at the prison anymore. I quit, so you can stop dropping hints that you want me to send messages to the inmates from you.”

  “Those were gifts you were meant to keep, not send back, burned into ash.” Judge’s hardened eyes softened with a glimmer of guilt. “I’m sure I should be insulted, but I guess I’ve earned a lifetime of that from you.”

  Judge had recently sent me a letter offering me a weekend on his (stolen) boat. That little handwritten kindness was returned to him, burned to ash by yours truly and stuffed into a sandwich bag with a “thanks, but screw you” letter of my own. We’d fallen far from the “I’d die for you” credo our families had once held to. I was older now, and part of me blamed Judge for that most heinous of crimes. I’d been young when his sun shined on my smile. Since he’d turned his back on me, I’d learned just how cold life could be.

  “I sent thank you notes along with the gifts when I sent them back to you. You know I can’t accept money or toys from you. It’s not ethical, and I was trying to keep my job.”

  “But now you’re not. Have you decided to finally accept my gratitude for saving T’s life?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash.

  My gaze darted wildly around the room as if he’d pulled out a gun, and Von gasped. “Would you put that thing away, you jag?” I held up my hand, my cheeks hot. “I accepted your gratitude last year when you told me ‘thank you,’ and I said ‘you’re welcome.’ That’s how normal people do things. What I won’t accept are gifts for doing my job. I already get a gift for that. It’s called a paycheck.”

  “But now you’re unemployed, so the pesky ethical dilemma I applaud you for is gone now, along with your steady paycheck.”

  I glowered at Judge, who allowed the corner of his thick lips to twitch upward at my indignation. We shared an affinity for goading each other. “I didn’t come here for money, you jackweed. I wouldn’t take a dime from you, even if I was starving to death and you were my only hope.” Those words had been chosen carefully, and I could tell by his minor flinch that I’d cut him right where I’d wanted to. I straightened, composing myself as much as I could. “I came here to make sure someone looks after Terence when he gets out, and to let you know that I’m not at the prison anymore. I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye to Terence, or thank him again for the time he saved me from that fight. If you could pass that along the next time you visit him, I’d appreciate it.”

  Judge put his obscene amount of cash away and pointed in the direction of the parking lot. “You still like your car?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. I’ll have a new one sent over to you in the morning.”

  I ground my teeth, ignoring Mason’s low grumble and Von’s small intake of breath at the grand gift. Judge’s love had always been grand, but I didn’t want anything to do with it anymore. “I won’t have this fight with you again. What happened when you tried to surprise me by paying for my car the last time?”

  “You had them send the money back, and you paid for it all by your stubborn self. It’s a gift, October.” He shot me a patronizing look and gave me a slow clap that made my blood boil. “Very good. We all know and respect that you’re not five anymore. It’s called looking after the people who take care of you.”

  My teeth clacked together as I fought to keep my composure. “You send over a new car for me, and you’ll find it at the bottom of a cliff with a thank you note that says something along the lines of ‘Thanks, Judge. Screw you.’” My glare met his, an identical flicker of hurt seeping through us both.

  Judge shook his head at me, a flash of anger sharpening his eyes. “You’re just being prideful. Pride won’t drive you to your next job. Pride doesn’t put food on the table.”

  “It did for you.” I tried to choose my words to make sure I didn’t set off the wrong stick of dynamite. “Neither of us would respect me if I took money from you for being who I am. In your line of work, respect goes a lot farther than money. If I barely care about your respect, can you imagine how I feel about your money?”

  Darius couldn’t help but smile at me. “Damn, that was tight. I think you actually stumped him this time, Bait. Man, I miss you.”

  Judge folded his hands over his stomach. “Smart move, saving your favor for a rainy day. In the meantime, I’ll put you on my tab here and at La Luna. I know how much you like to eat there.”

  I hissed at his roundabout way of letting me know he had me watched on occasion. “I can feed myself. Your food is poison to me,” I all but spat, my words filled with too many years of venom. “And don’t you dare have me or my house watched again. You don’t need to vet me, because I’m not joining your team.”

  Darius held up his hands. “I told him you and Ollie like to go there. No one’s watching you.”

  “Anymore,” Judge amended, making my spine stiffen. I felt Mason and Von step forward, flanking my chair now instead of standing behind it. Judge pulled out his phone and shot out a text, causing a waiter to appear like a rabbit from a magician’s hat. The man poured me wine and recited the specials without making eye contact, like a good boy who didn’t want to get shot. “Have the porterhouse, baby girl. It’s the best thing here, and you’re a thin little thing. Always were tiny.”

  “The wine’s enough for me for tonight. Thank you.” I took a sip from the wine that I knew would be too good to pass up. The waiter disappeared out the door in the next breath. “I’ve got to go anyways. Just wanted to get you up to speed.”

  Darius waved his hand in the air to clear it of the business talk. “Too much seriousness. Tell me whatcha been up to, kid. Why’d you leave the prison?”

  “Another job came along that I couldn’t pass up.” It was the truth. I’d tried to pass on it, but reaping was my life now.

  Darius’ dark eyes looked tired with too much life, and not enough play. “You still want to run away and join the circus with Allie and me?”

  “The running away part? Only every day,” I admitted, recalling the hot summer days when he, Allie and me practiced our flips and somersaults on the front lawn at Mama McCray’s house. Darius had promised to take me to the circus one day, but I’d told him that I wanted to join the circus as a trapeze artist, not just go to watch. I could still see the flicker of play that hadn’t been snuffed out of Darius, but it wasn’t enough for him to run away from his bleak responsibilities. I met his gaze, and I could tell we were thinking on the same memory. I offered Darius a tight smile. “If only solving all the problems was as simple as running away. No, I stopped believing in circuses a long time ago, Darius.” I didn’t hold back the sadness in my voice when I fixed him with eyes that had once trusted his family without question. “Looks like you stopped believing in them, too.”

  Darius tapped his heart in that same way Ollie did when he was having a brotherly moment. “You’re killing me, kid.”

  Von brushed his fingers across the nape of my neck, pulling a small amount so I could relax and focus. His touch was a soothing balm, and exactly what I needed.

  Judge’s lips tightened with unmistakable disdain. “No,” he said simply, his long finger pointing to Von, warning him not to touch me again.

  My eyes narrowed at Judge while Von stroked the side of my neck with his knuckle in defiance.
“You don’t call the shots on my life. My guards can be nice to me. I wouldn’t begrudge you cozying up to Big Mike.”

  Mason added to the goading by reaching down and holding my hand, staring Judge down while he stroked the slope of my wrist with his thumb. Judge’s gaze sharpened, landing on my Viking with a barely controlled snarl. “You, with the death wish. What’s your name?” he demanded of Mason.

  Things were quickly devolving, so I regained control of the situation. “His name is none of your business.” I took another sip of my wine and set the glass down after a few more back and forths with Darius about the good old days, before his hands got too dirty to remember how to put on sock puppet shows just to make me laugh. “It was good to see you guys. I’ll let you get back to selling your Girl Scout cookies and making the world a better place.” I stood and let Darius give me a real honest to goodness hug that I didn’t even try to shirk out of.

  Judge actually stood, tall and leonine, towering over me as he always had. He shook my hand and brought me in for a kiss on both cheeks, his finger on my chin. I permitted him control over the tilt of my head because as big a game as I could talk, part of me swelled and died every time I saw Judge’s face. I loved him, and missed the trust that had once come so easily.

  My forehead drifted of its own accord to rest against Judge’s neck. As if he’d been waiting for my unspoken admission that life was getting to be too harrowing, his hand reached up to cup the back of my head, anchoring me to him so I had a safe place to wait out the storm. “Baby girl,” he whispered, pleading with me to talk to him, to trust him with more than just my silence. Judge’s other hand wrapped around my back and gripped my elbow, holding me in place. I let him have this small victory.