My anxiety spikes. Why so much preparation for one hearing?
Z
“Frazier! You’re up.”
“About fucking time.”
I’ve been pacing my cell all morning, waiting to get transported to the county court for my bail hearing.
My lawyer meets me in another cramped room. This one’s decorated with orange chairs. Can’t say it’s an improvement.
“This is going to be my strategy today, Mr. Frazier.”
I sit up, intrigued that the sedate attorney I met the other day seems so riled up this morning. “I’m going to pick some holes in their evidence. Give the prosecutor a taste of the defense I’m going to present. I want to give the judge an idea of how weak this case is without tipping our hand too much.”
“Okay.”
“I won’t need you to say anything. If the judge asks you any questions, answer as truthfully and respectfully as possible.”
“I’ll do my best.”
He hesitates then seems to think better of commenting. “Like I told you before, arson is hard to prove. Even harder when the prosecutor doesn’t even seem to think he has a strong case. I’m not sure why they’re pressing you for this, but I think we have a good chance of getting it dismissed before we get near a trial.”
“Thank fuck.” The last thing I want to do is have this bullshit hanging over my head for the next couple years.
“Don’t get too excited. I’m not promising you anything, Mr. Frazier. The judge might decide to set the bail high or not set bail at all. Obviously, I’ll keep fighting for it, but I want you to be prepared that you might not get out today.”
I remember how many tries it took before Rock was finally released from jail. It had taken a toll on the whole club. In a way, we’re more unified than ever by having the upstate and downstate charters as closely connected as they’ve been since Sway got shot. Instead of trying to help us back then, Sway had just caused more trouble.
“Mr. Frazier?”
“I understand.”
“Okay.” He pats my arm.
“You can call me Z. Everyone else does.”
He grins. “Let’s get you out first. Then I’ll have earned it.”
This lawyer’s starting to grow on me.
The judge looks like a mean old take-no-bullshit sort of guy. The prosecutor’s so young his voice cracks and he trembles every time the judge addresses him directly.
This is the asshole prosecuting me? I’m mildly insulted.
“Your honor.” My lawyer stands and buttons his jacket, pausing for dramatic effect. “I’ve had a chance to review the scant amount of evidence the prosecution supposedly has against my client and it’s weak at best.”
The judge waves his hand at the prosecutor to bring him some papers. The court room’s completely silent as he flips through the pages then thrusts them at the lawyer who practically runs back to his table.
“That’s it?” the judge asks.
“We still need time to develop our case, your honor, but we have a strong—”
The judge zeroes in on me. “You a flight risk?”
I stand and meet his penetrating stare. “No, sir.”
He gestures wildly with his hands. “Give me more, Mr. Frazier. You’re one of these motorcycle guys, right? Like to be on the road? What’s stopping you from taking off if I let you out today?”
The prosecutor stands up. “Your honor—”
“Was I speaking to you?”
“No, sir.”
“Sit down.”
I smother the chuckle rising in my throat and lift my chin. “Your honor, my motorcycle club is really more of a family. They’re all here in New York. I’m not going anywhere. “
“Mr. Frazier is also responsible for running several local businesses, your honor,” my attorney adds.
“Your ‘club’ has bases of operation in other states outside of New York, Mr. Frazier?” the judge asks, ignoring my lawyer.
“Yes, sir.” I rattle off a few of the states where we have charters. “But I’ve never been a member of any club outside of New York. Born and raised here, sir.”
He grunts and nods, flipping through the folder on his desk.
“Your honor, my client has had no arrests within the last ten years. Not even a traffic ticket,” Mr. Sanders argues.
“I see that.”
My vision tunnels down to just the judge. My heart slows yet thumps impossibly loud as I wait for him to say something else.
Finally, he lifts his head and searches the crowd behind me. “You.” He points to someone in the audience. “You here for your brother?”
I turn slightly and realize he’s speaking to Rock.
Rock stands and doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Yes, sir.”
“You can look me in the eye and swear he’s not going anywhere?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve known Angus personally for over twenty years, sir. He’s a man of his word.”
“Give me more and state your name for the record.”
Rock glances at Sanford who motions him forward. “Rochlan North. Angus helps me run one of our businesses in Empire. Never missed a day of work, sir.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s also godfather to my baby daughter. Visits with her every chance he gets.”
I flash a smile at Rock, knowing it’s probably killing him to continue with the polite, sentimental routine.
“So, he’s welcomed in your home?” the judge asks.
“Always. He’s close friends with my wife as well.”
My lawyer frowns and taps his fingers against the table. Obviously, he doesn’t like the direction this line of question is going.
The prosecutor raises his hand like he’s in school. “Your honor, while this is all well and good, arson is a crime of violence—”
“Sit down, Mr. McCann.” The judge wags his finger at the people behind me again. “You three. Are you here to vouch for Mr. Frazier too?”
Teller stands first. “Yes, sir. He’s been a mentor and brother to me since I was a teenager. Kept me out of trouble many times.”
The judge grunts.
Rooster and Jigsaw also extol my many virtues, then sit down.
“How come my courtroom isn’t full of brothers from your club, Mr. North?” the judge asks.
Rock glances behind him. “We came to support Angus. And maybe give him a ride should bail be set. We’re not here to make a statement, sir.”
A carefully crafted answer from my cunning friend. MCs are notorious for filling up a courtroom when a brother’s been accused of a crime. Usually to intimidate. My club not posturing that way seems to support my innocence.
“You can go back to your seat, Mr. North,” the judge says.
Mr. Sanford breathes a sigh of relief.
“You got anything better than this steaming pile of garbage, Attorney McCann?” the judge asks the prosecutor.
“Your honor, we have a solid case, with a witness—”
“A witness who thinks she saw a black motorcycle on a dark road on the night in question. It’s not even clear why she made the statement to this…officer.” The judge leans forward. “You’re joking, right?”
So, the witness is a female.
“Fleeing the scene of the fire, sir,” the prosecutor insists.
The judge snorts.
“We haven’t been able to determine an address for Mr. Frazier,” the prosecutor tries again.
“Where do you live, Mr. Frazier?” the judge asks.
I rattle off the address of the house I’m sharing with Lilly, hoping like fuck I didn’t just hand the police an invitation to come search it. “I recently moved down here, your honor. But I have a six-month lease with the option for longer.”
“See, it’s not a permanent address.” The prosecutor sounds like a tattling third-grader.
“Where’d you live before that?” the judge asks.
I give him the address upstate that I use for my driver’s license. “T
hat’s still technically my permanent residence, sir.”
The judge swings his piercing gaze the prosecutor’s way again. “So, in twenty years, he’s moved all of what? Eighty-two miles. Big flight risk.”
“Your honor—”
“And you have at best, a weak case. I see no other indication he’s a threat to the community. Bail is set at fifty-thousand. You are not to leave the state, Mr. Frazier, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“All right. Fifty-thousand. Cash or bond.”
Sanford jumps up. “Thank you, your honor, we’re prepared to pay immediately.”
“Your honor, we strongly object—”
“I’m sure you do, Mr. McCann. Next time bring me something more compelling. Fifty-thousand, cash or bond, and the defendant is free to go home today.” He slams his gavel down. “Next case.”
The bailiff pushes us away from the defense table and leads me in the back to get my things. Mr. Sanford follows.
Rock came prepared and puts down the money to get me released. After another hour of paperwork and bullshit, I’m handed my stuff and able to get out of the hideous green jumpsuit.
Outside, I shake Mr. Sanford’s hand. “Thank you.”
“I don’t feel like I did a whole lot, Z.” He grins at me. “I enjoyed the hell out of that little snot getting his ass handed to him, though.”
Rock chuckles and shakes Sanford’s hand. “Thank you.”
“Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting him to question you. For a second, I was worried he was going to order Z to stay with you.”
Rock squeezes my shoulder. “Whatever it took to get him out would’ve been fine.”
Sanford turns to me. “We need to sit down next week. Go over your case. I need to do some more research but after today, I feel more confident about getting this dismissed before trial.” He glances at the courthouse. “Judge Hardy is usually very pro-prosecutor, so his attitude was a bit of a surprise.”
“They got nothing,” I grumble. “Is that supposed ‘witness’ what they’ve based this whole thing on?”
“They’re not required to turn over material to me yet, Z. But I should find out soon.” He glances at Rock. “I’ll need to have one other associate at my firm help go through the document requests.”
“That’s fine.”
He turns back to me. “This was the first hurdle. You just need to go home and stay out of trouble. And for God’s sake, do not leave the state. Not even a road trip to New Jersey to do a little shopping. Nothing. They’ll revoke your bail so fast your head will spin and it won’t be as easy to get you out again.”
“Not planning to go anywhere, Mr. Sanford. Promise.”
He smiles and holds out his hand. “You can call me Abe.”
After Abe leaves, Rock reaches out and pulls me in for a hug, slapping me hard on the back. “Missed you, fuckface,” he mutters against my ear.
“Overkill, much?” I answer slapping him back. “Teller, Rooster, and Jiggy?”
“Can’t be too careful with you.” He holds me at arm’s length. “You all right?”
“Better now.”
Teller, Jigsaw, and Rooster amble over for handshakes and backslaps too.
“Thank you for speaking up.”
Teller shrugs. “I had to think fast.”
I wink at him. “Mentor, huh?”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
I glance at the four of them again. “Who’s with the girls?”
“Murphy and Wrath,” Rock says.
“Shit, figured Murphy would be on the road soon as he got out.”
“Nah.” Rock shakes his head. “He didn’t feel right leaving while you were still inside.”
I swallow hard.
“Besides,” Teller continues in a lower voice, “Alexa and Chance have been tight. Seemed mean to break them up, while you were still…”
“Shit,” I breathe out, running my hands through my hair.
Rock claps me on the back. “Let’s get you home.”
“We’ll sit down at the table later this afternoon,” Rooster says. “Right now, you need to get home.” He gives me a meaningful look. “See your fam.”
“We’ll follow you back to your house, then head to the clubhouse to gather the brothers,” Jigsaw promises. “Let everyone know you’re out.”
“Appreciate it, brother.”
They take off on their bikes while Rock, Teller, and I head toward Rock’s SUV.
“Feel better?” Rock asks.
“Fuck yeah. What a bunch of stupid bullshit.”
“I know how much you want to see Lilly and Chance. But the five of us should sit down and discuss everything before you go in for church later,” Rock says.
Teller pipes up from the back seat. “We should probably go to church with Z. This kind of has an effect on both clubs. Or at least has the potential to.”
“Yeah,” Rock agrees. He glances over at me. “You okay with that?”
“Of course I am. But I want someone at the house with the girls.”
“Carter’s coming down after the shop closes,” Teller says.
I roll my eyes. Carter’s a great kid, but Trinity would be far more effective if someone broke into the house.
“Dex was going to come down if you got out today too,” Rock adds.
“Cool. Thanks.”
I lean back and close my eyes. Can’t fucking wait to see Lilly and Chance.
The closer we get, the faster my heart pounds. Not used to this strange twist in my chest. I’m always happy to come home after I’ve been away for a while, but this is completely different. And it’s not the jail thing.
It’s because I have a family—a fiancé and a son that I’m coming home to.
Rock barely throws the truck in park before I open the door. Lilly races outside and flies right into my arms.
“Z,” she whispers. Hands on my chest, she rises up on tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine. The warmth of her skin, the taste of her mouth, finally reaches all the way down inside the coldness that lodged in my chest the night of the arrest.
Chapter Fifteen
Lilly
At some point, I need to let go of Z so we can go inside the house. He holds onto my hand as he jokes with Jigsaw about walking the dogs and ribs Rooster about mowing the lawn.
Outside the front door, he turns and gives me the full force of his attention. The second my gaze lands on him again, tears burn my eyes and tremors shake my body, weakening my knees.
We don’t break eye contact. So many emotions seep through me I don’t know how to sort them out. Joy, relief, desire.
“I need to hold you a little longer,” he rasps.
The guys go inside, leaving us alone out front. I’m so eager to be near Z, I practically climb his body. He touches his knuckles to my chin, tilting my head back. “I’m so happy you’re home,” I whisper, too raw to say more.
It’s only been a matter of days, but the possibility we could be separated for years had begun to weigh on me.
I was so scared to count on him coming home today.
His dark blue eyes roam my face and lower. More of a concerned examination than a sexual one.
I take the opportunity to do the same. Is he thinner? Did he eat enough? Are those circles under his eyes? Z’s never anything but the picture of masculine virility with a dash of prankster. While he continues to shine his smile on me, he still seems withdrawn or worn down. Stubble shadows his jaw and I run the back of my hand over the whiskers.
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s go inside.”
“Daddy!” Chance gasps. His little wet feet slap over the tile floor. Heidi follows, trying to wrap a towel around him and finally gives up.
Z releases me and squats down to scoop Chance up when he’s within range.
Tears burn my eyes and my throat tightens to the point of pain as Z squeezes our son tight. “Missed you, buddy.”
“Are you otay?” Chanc
e asks.
“I’m fine. Were you a good boy for Mommy?”
He nods vigorously and reaches for me. “I play with Alextha. Uncle Aleth visit too.”
Z raises his eyebrows.
“It’s a long story, but he was better than I expected.” I tilt my head toward the living room. “Rock didn’t have to punch him once.”
Z shifts Chance to one arm and wraps his free one around me, snuggling both of us close. Standing completely still for a moment. Breathing us in. Chance is surprisingly patient with all the affection.
After a few quiet moments, Chance wriggles to get down and drags Z into the living room to show him the race track.
“Hey, Z. Welcome home,” Hope says.
He turns and gives her a half-hug. “Rock will have a good story about the hearing for you.”
“Oh, I bet.”
The dogs run over and immediately rat me out by jumping on the couch.
Z gives me a half-smile. “When did this happen?”
“They were glued to Lilly’s side,” Teller says. “Doing their job. They deserve a little couch surfing”
Z nudges them off the furniture where they promptly plop down on his feet and demand attention. After loving on the dogs for a few minutes, he tugs me down with him. With one arm around my waist, he draws me closer. “Missed you, pretty girl,” he says against my ear.
I pull back and the heat from his stare scorches my skin. “Missed you too. More than you know.” Shoot. I’m trying to be upbeat and happy, but I’m on the verge of tears every time I think about Z in jail.
“It’s okay, Lilly.” He kisses my temple. “Everything will be okay. I promise.”
I hope he’s right.
Z
After telling me everything he’s been up to, Chance exhausts himself into a sleepy bundle at my feet. Alexa conked out a few minutes before that. For such a tiny thing, she takes up a lot of couch.
“He was quiet and didn’t show it, but he missed you,” Lilly says, nodding at Chance.
I swallow over the painful lump in my throat. “Missed him too.”
She’s tucked up tight against my side. Hasn’t moved and it feels damn good. I lean closer. “I need you.”
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