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Rather than touching his own nose to tell me I was correct, Judge reached over and tapped mine.
Had it been anyone else, the move would’ve been as condescending as telling me to relax—and I wouldn’t have hesitated to let them know. But his smile made it playful rather than insulting. And in the midst of talking about illegal activities, the mob, and corruption, the levity was needed.
“Based on your paranoia with me… observing you in the store, I’m guessing Nash hasn’t backed away?”
“No. He’s been playing it friendly for a few months, sending,” he lifted his hands to make finger quotes, “gifts and incentives—”
“What kind…” I started before remembering what Judge said Nash ran. “Never mind.”
“We turned them away—and not nicely. Instead of moving on, we think he put one of his girls in Mayhem.”
“How?”
“She was hangin’ at a bar, and a brother tried to pick her up, but she played the long con. It worked. He pursued her hard and fell harder. Swore she was made just for him. And he was fuckin’ right. Every word, every look, every childhood story, and future goal had been crafted to hook him and get close, likely to collect info to report back to Nash.”
I wasn’t sure what info they’d have that a man like Nash would want, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. That didn’t stop me from asking, “Did she get anything?”
“His heart. Someone else’s dick in her mouth.” I gasped, and he quickly amended, “Her choice, not fuckin’ forced. Jesus.”
“I didn’t think that.”
At least I hoped it wasn’t that.
Judge shot me a disbelieving look as he drained the rest of his mug. “He was careful with what he shared ‘cause he may have been stupid for her, but she wasn’t his old lady. And thank fuckin’ Christ she got caught before it got that far.”
“Caught with someone else’s…”
“Yeah. Friend of the club saw her out and recognized her from the pictures the brother had been showing off. Watched her chat up a dude, take a wad of cash, then take a different—”
I put my hand up. “I do not need the details.”
“Chance location. Chance timing.” Something I couldn’t read crossed his face. “Just fate.”
“Badass bikers believe in fate?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.
It didn’t work and my heart kicked into overdrive when he said, “They do when they’ve experienced it.”
Breaking the intense moment, I chugged my coffee like I was dying of thirst, and it was the most important thing in the world.
Which, well, it kinda was, but that was beside the point.
Judge smiled like he thought my evasion was cute before turning serious. “Nox is gonna send over some pictures for you to look at, see if you recognize anyone.”
A lifetime of binge-watching Law and Order had me primed and excited to do a photo array. At the same time, though, it made the surreal situation more real, the gravity of it sitting heavily on my chest.
Someone actually destroyed my apartment on purpose. This isn’t a slapstick case of mistaken identity and over the top coincidences.
Whoever is behind this was after me. Not some doppelganger. Not someone in the apartment one floor below me.
Why am I on the radar of someone who runs guns, drugs, and women?
“I’ve never even touched a gun,” I said out loud, staring at my cup. “I smoked a little weed in high school, but that’s it. And I think women are beautiful treasures, but I’ve never slept with one and certainly never paid to do it.”
I jumped when Judge’s hands spanned my waist. On his knees, he turned me so I was facing him. “O—”
“If you hadn’t taken me, I would’ve gone home to that disaster scene. I live alone. What if…” My words caught in my throat, coming out in a choked whisper. “What if they came back while I was there? While I was sleeping?” I gave a small, disbelieving scoff. “Never thought I’d say this, but it’s a really good thing I was kidnapped.”
Judge squeezed my waist. “Fate.”
