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)
And why was she going into Pete’s anyway? Was she meeting Lange there?
“Fuck,” he muttered and spun stones as he sped out of the alley and looked for a place to park on the street, which wasn’t easy since it was a busy Friday evening.
Good for the bar and the Fury’s coffers, not so great for Judge.
Once he found a spot, he strode with Jury by his side down the sidewalk toward Crazy Pete’s. Stella never cared when he brought in one or both dogs. And the dogs loved it since they ended up being fed popcorn and other shit by the patrons. Plus, there were plenty of pats and ear scratches to go around.
No one had ever complained and if someone did? Fuck them. They could take it up with Judge.
He paused outside the door, wondering if maybe he should just sit and keep watch instead of blowing through the door like 5-0 on a no-knock warrant. He released the handle and stared down at Jury who stared back at him, giving him a slow tail wag.
Yeah, his girl knew when he was being dumb. She liked to remind him.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered. He jerked his head toward the Ford. “C’mon, girl. Almost rushed in there like a fuckin’ bull on crack.”
Then Cassie would really wonder if he was stalking her. And maybe even warn Lange. Judge knew better than to keep blowing his tail.
With another curse, he strode back down the sidewalk and opened the passenger door for Jury to jump in. Then he climbed into the driver’s side and pulled out his phone.
He texted Dodge, which was a way better plan. A blonde just walk in?
It took about five minutes before he responded, since Judge guessed he was busting his ass slinging drinks big time with how many cars were parked on the street.
Yeah, was the prospect’s answer.
Tall n curvy?
Hard 2 miss those fckn curves.
Judge’s jaw got tight. She in there meetn any1?
Not yet. Soon.
What the fuck did that mean? Keep an eye on her.
Not gonna B a prob.
Judge always texted slowly because of his big fingers. And sometimes he didn’t have the patience for it and would call instead. But he also didn’t want Dodge answering him out loud inside the bar where Cassie might hear him. Lemme know if she meets up w/ a man.
It took a few more minutes for Dodge to respond. Prolly gonna meet a lotta fckn men here.
Wanna explain that? Judge asked, cursing when he had fixed all his misspellings to at least where they were readable. But his fingers gripped the phone way too tightly.
Stel hired her, came the delayed answer.
Judge blinked at the phone in his hand. He read that last answer again. Stella hired her?
He smoothed a hand down his long beard. Then again.
That could be good. No, not good, fucking great.
It would be so much easier to keep an eye on her in a place she was around MC members and ol’ ladies. Hell, those were extra set of eyes on her which wouldn’t make her suspicious. And, while she was working, he wouldn’t need to sit and rot in his fucking Expedition half the night.
That also could mean she might not be skipping town as soon as hubby showed up, which was his original guess.
Maybe she was starting fresh instead. The only question was, was it with or without Dennis Lange?
No wedding ring. New town. New job.
Maybe Lange wasn’t showing up at all?
And if not, where the fuck was he?
Chapter Six
Judge downed a double shot of Jack Daniels, slammed the glass on the bar and chased it with the rest of his beer. A whine and a scrambling sound at his feet made him turn his head.
Jury rushed over to Justice and licked his mouth in greeting before wrestling Deke’s dog down to the wood floor as his owner entered The Barn through the bunkhouse door.
“Think they hadn’t seen each other in a fuckin’ week or somethin’.” Deke shook his head as he strode up to the bar, nabbed the bottle of Jack and headed over to one of the bus benches that had been moved in front of the stone fireplace in the center of church.
With a sigh, Judge followed him, dropping onto the bench next to his cousin. After Deke was done drinking from the bottle, he passed it to Judge, who tipped it to his lips next.
“You dirty a glass, it stays dirty ‘til one of the sweet butts gets her fuckin’ ass in here to clean it. You drink from the bottle, nobody gives a shit.”
True.
Deke kicked his boots up onto the stone ledge surrounding the circular see-through hearth and dug into his cut, pulling out a small tin. Out of that tin, appeared a hand-rolled, not of the tobacco variety.
Fuck yeah. Judge propped his boots on the stone, too, and settled in. Time to fucking relax until two am or so when he tailed Cassie back to her sister’s home.