Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Shit could always get worse.”
“It won’t in this case.” She put her hand on the doorknob and glanced over her shoulder at him. “You ready?”
“Been ready for seventeen years, just didn’t realize how hard it would be.”
She turned the knob. “Just be you,” she repeated in a whisper.
As they stepped inside, Deacon immediately approached, stopping shoulder to shoulder with him, but with him facing the door. “Christ, this was totally unexpected,” he said under his breath just loud enough for Judge to hear him.
No shit.
“Not sure why he’s here, but he is. That’s the first step.”
“Yeah,” Judge breathed.
Deke whacked him on the back and walked out, closing the door behind him.
“You Judd Scott?”
Judge stared at the kid… boy… no, the young man who asked the question. When he didn’t answer, Cassie whispered a sharp, “Judge,” that shook him loose.
“Yeah.”
Trip was right. Ry was tall. Over six foot already. And his hair was dark blonde like his. But Trip was also right about his son not being gangly. Not at all.
He tried to blink away the sting in his eyes, but it didn’t work.
“Judge,” Cassie said again, squeezing his hand until it almost hurt. Then she released it and moved a step further into the living area, closer to where Ry stood by the kitchen counter.
“You’re not Judd?” Ry asked, suddenly appearing confused.
He swallowed, trying to loosen his throat so he could talk. “Judge is my nickname.”
“You know who I am?”
“Yeah. Know who you are,” he answered the boy who was no doubt his son.
Ry began to fidget, suddenly looking very unsure of himself. “Didn’t mean to just show up like this. I… I… wasn’t sure if you’d want to meet me. Figured you might be pissed that I never responded to any of your calls or texts.”
Judge couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t. Was this really happening? “Cassie,” he whispered.
“Yes?” came from behind him and he hadn’t even realized he had taken steps closer to his son and Cassie had backed away.
“Am I awake?”
Cassie made a soft noise, then said, “Yes, baby, you’re awake. That’s really Ry standing there.”
Ry turned his head toward Cassie. “Ry? How do you know my nickname?”
“’Cause I gave it to you,” Judge answered, taking another step closer. He now was only a few feet away from his son. His fucking son.
Finally.
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“I hate the name Henry.”
No surprise. “Me, too. Refused to call you that.”
His boy smiled. “Mom would only call me Henry. It pissed me off.” That smile dropped. “She died a month ago.”
Judge wasn’t sure whether to be sad or fucking happy about that. “Sorry.”
“I... uh… was going through her things with my aunt and I found something in my mother’s closet.” He dug into his front pocket and pulled out an old flip phone.
It was the one Judge had mailed to him ten years ago, hoping to make a connection with his son.
“I wondered why she kept an outdated phone, so I found a charger and charged it. I figured the account had been closed since it was so old, but it wasn’t.”
No, he’d kept it open and paid for it every month. Just in case.
Just in case a day like today ever came.
“I listened to the voicemails and read all the texts.”
That had to take a while since there were hundreds of them. “You never saw any of them.” He didn’t make it a question because he already knew the answer.
His son shook his head. “I had no idea you were even alive.” Ry scrunched his brow. “She told me you died in a car accident when I was a baby. That’s why she left Pennsylvania and went to California. She said she was devastated and couldn’t live with the memories.”
Lying fucking bitch.
He knew it was fucking wrong, but he couldn’t help hoping Jen died a slow, painful fucking death. Because no matter how she fucking suffered, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Judge having his son stolen from him. He’d suffered for seventeen fucking years.
“I’m sorry.”
Jesus fuck. His kid was sorry, and it wasn’t even his fault.
“So am I,” Judge said. “Just glad you know the truth now. So glad you found that phone. Glad you’re here.” He ran a hand over his mouth and down his beard, trying to keep his shit together.
“I didn’t want you to think I ignored all those messages. I didn’t. I would’ve responded. I asked about you. Mom always said it was too upsetting for her to talk about you.”
Christ.
“I wanted to meet you in person, not talk to you over the phone. So, I began driving here right after graduation. I’m going off to college at the end of August, but I figured, if… if you want to, we can use my summer break to get to know each other?”
Judge closed his eyes and once again wobbled a bit.