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“No, I’m all about motorcycles and leather.” I ran my fingertips along his arm down to his hand. “And tattoos. Big fan of those.”
He pulled me to straddle him, but I scooted away so I was sitting on his thighs near his knees. Otherwise we wouldn’t be talking, and I needed to hear the rest.
Judge didn’t look happy about the distance but kept talking. “We work out of the clubhouse ‘cause it’s all we need. Other than an email address and a private line that goes to a secure voicemail, we’re off the grid. Everything is word of mouth, everyone is vetted by Glitch, and we only take the jobs we want. We charge a shit-ton that people happily pay ‘cause they want discretion, safety, and someone who’s willing to bend the law instead of calling the cops.”
It was a shock but also… not. Things clicked together, making sense.
“We also do relocation.”
My brows lowered. “Like, a moving company? Or realtor?”
He tilted his head toward the door. “Like the kid.” Tension filled his body, his muscles tightening. “Her ma, Casey, was dating a piece of shit who controlled and manipulated her. By the time he started beating the hell outta her, he’d already cut her off from her friends, family, and money. She felt trapped but was working on a slow and careful escape. She didn’t know he’d been verbally abusing Madison, threatening her ‘til she was literally sick with fear. Not until she came home to find Madison left alone, her arm broken and her face…” He clenched his jaw so hard, it had to hurt.
Swiping at the tears streaming down my cheeks, I leaned forward, hoping he’d get the request I was too choked up to verbalize.
He did, wrapping his arms around me. “The cops searched for him, including the sheriff’s son, Nico.”
“Boom Nico?”
“He’s a good bounty hunter but even he couldn’t find the bastard. Casey reconnected with her family and moved her and Madison to Baltimore to live with them. But it soured the sheriff and Nico’s gut that he got away. Nico reached out to Nox—”
I sat up so fast, I nearly knocked my head against his jaw. “He found him, right? Did he kill him? If not, can I do the thorn thing?”
“Yeah, he found him down in Florida, already shacked up with another chick who had a daughter even younger than Madison. He brought him back to Tennessee.”
As happy as I was he got caught, I was furious he’d gotten off easy compared to what he deserved.
My feelings must’ve shown because a hint of a smirk curved Judge’s lips. “Funny thing… One second the guy’s drinking at a bar in Florida, the next he’s waking up on the steps of a police station with a broken wrist and five broken fingers.” He wiggled his own fingers. “Two different, unusable hands.”
“Doubt he’ll be able to make a fist,” I said.
“Makes it hard to defend himself in a place where people got no love for fuckers who abuse defenseless kids.”
A little vengeful peace settled in my shattered heart.
“So are you helping them move back?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Madison has to testify in a couple days. We’re transporting them, making sure they’re safe and, more importantly, that they feel it. We’ll be at court so she knows that motherfucker can’t get to her. But she’s still freaked and tried to escape out the bathroom window.”
I didn’t blame her because I wasn’t sure I could do what she was about to.
She really is a brave hero.
“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” I stated.
Still, he answered, “No.”
“How did you start?”
“Scythe.”
“His scar?” I asked, my already broken heart sinking to shatter to dust when he gave a single nod.
He didn’t elaborate, which meant it wasn’t his story to tell.
I hate people.
“On one run, we had an irate bastard come home ‘cause some nosy-ass neighbor called him to tell him we were packing up his wife and twins. Middle of the damn street, and he was screaming at her, threatening to kill her.”
