Don't Judge (Nothing Special 4)

“Ugh. Shut up, Leo,” God groaned.

Day laughed and reached out, shaking Judge’s hand. “As usual, it’s not a pleasure to see you, Judge.”

“Likewise, Day.” Judge laughed along with everyone else. “You’re still with the big guy, huh?” Judge pointed at God.

Day sighed. “Yeah, well I’m trying to get into heaven. They say God is the way.”

God rolled his eyes while Judge sat down in one of the chairs in front of his desk, Bookem dropping down and sitting next to him. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

God and his team started with just a small briefing, giving him the quick facts of the case. After an hour, a pretty woman named Vikki took everyone’s lunch order while they piled into the large meeting room to really get down to business. Judge carefully scanned each document that was relevant to his tracking. He could care less about what laws the man had broken; it wasn’t his job to determine if he needed arresting or if he was guilty. His job was to bring him in. “I take it you want this guy alive.” That comment got him a lot of stares.

“If you don’t mind,” Day said, between clinched teeth.

Judge looked around. “You do understand this guy is a murderer. You think he’s gonna roll out a welcome mat for me?”

He watched God rear back in his seat and run his hands through his long hair. “I know that, Judge. Just try. I’m not telling you to get yourself killed. But if you don’t have to take a kill shot, I’d appreciate it.”

“I make no promises.”

“Of course not,” Day said, wryly. “You just make sure to bring my sniper back alive and you won’t have any beef out of me.”

Judge snapped back up, pulling his cane out of his mouth. “Excuse me?”

God grimaced and glared at Day. “I hadn’t exactly told him yet,” he whispered, but Judge heard him loud and clear.

“Told me what, God?” Judge stood. “And it better not be what I think it is.”

“Judge. I need this guy in custody and I need it done quietly. So I want one of my guys to go with—”

“Hell no.” Judge backed up. “I don’t need any help. You know that.”

“He’s not gonna be there to help you; he’s there to keep things quiet.”

“You think I need a goddamn do-gooder-baby-sitter, telling me how to do my fuckin’ job?”

“You know damn well I’m not saying that. I need reassurance that this will be be kept quiet and I also know you won’t be bothered to give me updates.”

Judge scoffed. “Quiet. You think I haven’t heard of these two.” He pointed to the two men that were introduced as Ruxs and Green. Now that he had a face to go with the names he knew who to point to. “These guys are the epitome of loud noise and ruckus.”

“Because that’s their job.”

“Fuck no,” Judge growled.

“You owe me, goddamnit!” God stood and came around the table to square off with him. Bookem stood and growled, but didn’t attack. He’d never do that without the command. God ignored the warning and stood directly in front of him. “Now, I’m asking for my favor. Are you going to refuse me, Judge?”

Son of a—. Judge gritted his teeth. God knew he’d never go back on his word. God gave him a few minutes to stew in his anger. All eyes were on him, waiting. Reluctantly he asked, “Who is he?”

“Detective Austin Michaels,” God replied. His voice and demeanor looked as if he was proud to present this guy.

Judge rolled his eyes when he saw Detective Michaels stand up. Of course it had to be him. The sexiest one of them all. Shit. Judge had definitely noticed him, but the man had been quiet the entire time. When Michaels came over to glare at him, Judge had to be sure not to show his surprise or amusement. The bold little fucker. Actually he wasn’t so little. He was tall and built. Compact muscles under smooth, ivory skin. No doubt he was as macho and straight as an arrow, those kinds usually were. Judge was eager to see how the man handled himself.

Chapter Twelve

Michaels didn’t dare offer the guy his hand to shake. The man was glaring like he wanted to kill him, not meet him, and damn sure not team up with him. Michaels had been quiet during most of the meeting. Watching Judge carefully, paying close attention to every page of data he lingered on and then reading it himself trying to decipher what the man was piecing together. Fact of the matter was he had great instincts and he was positive he knew the way Judge was going. So maybe he had what Syn was talking about. He’d be damned if he’d let this big leather bear intimidate him; he’d worked too hard for his title to have it diminished by a glorified chaser.