“And if he’s a pretty boy, he probably would.”
“You’re better at judgin’ that than me,” Judge murmured, closing the pictures and double-clicking on the next one marked C. Lange.
The large color photo opened, and Judge’s head jerked back, his mouth opened and he blinked.
What the fuck?
What the fuck!
Holy fuck!
Bright blue eyes stared back at him.
He shifted the photo over a little with his mouse and glanced again at the email.
Wife: Cassidy LANGE – LKL Manning Grove, PA.
Wife.
Cassidy Lange.
Last known location: Manning Grove, PA.
No fucking shit.
Wife.
He squeezed his eyes shut and his hands automatically went back to Jury’s blocky head. She groaned in encouragement as he rubbed her ears.
The woman he saw in town was fucking with his head. Shouldering in on his thoughts.
The woman who caused him to cancel his “fuck date” last night because she was what he wanted, not Billie.
Because...
She...
Fuck.
He opened his eyes again and wasn’t imagining it. Was he?
“Deke.” Deacon’s name got caught in his throat. He cleared it and tried again. “Deacon.”
“Yeah?”
“C’mere and tell me if I’m hallucinatin’.”
“You toke some spiked shit earlier?”
“Ain’t toked a fuckin’ thing all day.”
“Bad Chinese?” His cousin surged to his feet and strode over to the desk.
“Ain’t eaten shit yet.”
“Maybe your blood sugar’s low,” Deacon suggested with a snort as he stepped around the desk. “Big asshole like you— Oh fuuuuck.”
“You seein’ what I’m seein’?” Because in the last three days he’d been thinking about her a lot.
A. Lot.
Like close his eyes and nut in his Fleshlight, pretending it was the blonde’s tight, wet pussy a lot.
Like whacking off in the shower to fantasies of those tits and ass a lot.
He’d been pretty much obsessed with her since the second he saw her in the municipal parking lot on Sunday.
And seeing her again in front of Walmart hadn’t helped.
But now he had a good reason to let that obsession—and hope of getting a piece of that—go.
Damn.
Having a kid was baggage but like the carry-on size.
Having a kid and a husband was also baggage, but like a whole luggage set.
Having a kid and a bail-skipping husband was a shipping container full of shit. And of the loose diarrhea type. The kind you needed a half roll of toilet paper to wipe up.
“Well, there’s the real reason you struck out, cuz. Wasn’t your ugly mug and monster size. She ain’t interested in your baby carrot dick ‘cause she’s already gettin’ it elsewhere. Or she was before he got popped.” Deacon leaned past him, grabbed the mouse and clicked on the court documents. “What he get busted for?” The document opened, blocking Cassidy Lange’s, wife of Dennis Lange, picture.
Wife of Dennis the felon.
Judge skimmed the document.
“Oh damn,” Deke murmured.
Judge sat back in his chair.
“There’s low and then there’s goin’-to-hell low. This fucker’s gonna burn.”
Judge brushed his palm slowly back and forth over the top of his head thinking the same thing.
“Wonder what happened to all the money?” Deke took a step back, then moved around to the other side of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. “Want this job, Judge.”
“No.”
“Yeah, wanna catch this fucker. I’d even do it for free.”
“No. We ain’t doin’ shit for free.”
“Catchin’ this fucker might keep me outta hell.”
“It won’t. Too late for either of us.”
Deke blew out a breath. “Think she was in on it?”
Jesus. If she was... “Dunno. But gonna find out.”
“Let me take it,” he insisted.
“Got a job to finish first.”
“Then I’m headin’ back to Williamsport tonight and gonna hunt that fucker down so I can hop on this motherfucker.”
“Shoulda been doin’ that in the first place, you asshole,” Judge growled at his cousin.
“Wasn’t in a rush.”
“You had three fuckin’ days left, Deke.”
“Yeah, three days. Plenty of time.”
Judge shot him a look.
Deke shrugged and shot him a smile back. “Got motivation now.”
“The money should’ve been motivation before.”
“Fuckin’ Dad died of the goddamn cancer, Judge.”
Judge sucked air in through his nose and held it. “Was there, Deke.”
“Yeah, and you know how bad it was.”
Something he’d never forget. The cancer rotted his uncle from the inside out. It hit them all hard.
Even in the couple of years Judge lived with Deke’s parents, his Uncle Walter ended up being a better father than Ox ever was. In fact, Walter practiced tough love and never once hesitated to knock some sense into Judge or Deacon.
Ox would get pissed because 5-0 brought Judge home, not because of breaking curfew. In contrast, Walt thanked the pigs for bringing him home, waited until they left and then taught Judge a lesson about breaking curfew. At sixteen, Judge had fought back once.
Once was all it took.
Judge never fought back again.
But it was those two years under Walt’s roof that taught Judge a bit of respect and showed him a good reason to keep his ass out of jail.
He had Walt to thank for all of that. Because Judge had no doubt if it wasn’t for Walt and his methods, he’d have ended up in and out of the joint just like Sig, the Fury’s VP.