Judge of Hell (Hell Night 3)

Ellie’s lips form a straight line when she answers. “I will later. For now, I’d like you to meet Maisy.” She removes her arm from around Maisy’s shoulders, grabs her hand, and takes several steps forward. They sto

p only a couple of feet away. “Maisy, this is my old friend, Judge, who I was telling you about.”

Old friend, my ass. We were lovers. Of course, she can’t tell Maisy that.

I drop the animosity I feel toward Ellie and look down at the little girl in front of me. Something cracks inside my chest. She looks even more sick up close. But underneath her worn down and tired appearance is a beautiful girl. Through the paleness of her skin, I notice a small scattering of freckles running across her small, pert nose and cheeks. Her eyes, which droop with fatigue, slant slightly. I can tell she once had a natural tan. Her hair, which surprisingly shines, is wavy and goes halfway down her back.

She’s staring up at me with curiosity, and the look melts my heart. I drop to a knee in front of her. Even at this level, I’m still taller than her.

I hold out my hand for her to take. “Hi, Maisy. It’s nice to meet you.” I clear my throat when the words come out husky. I’m so far out of my element here.

Her cool hand settles in mine and it surprises me how small it is compared to mine. She’s so delicate, her illness making it more pronounced.

“Hello.”

Her voice is soft and graceful and damned if it doesn’t bring a smile to my face. It’s hard to keep it in place when her hand begins to shake in mine. Worry snakes its way inside, reminding me how sick she is.

Fuck.

I reluctantly release her hand—I want to hold on to it and somehow send healing vibes through our connection, which is fucking stupid and impossible—and stand. Tearing my eyes away from my daughter, I look back up at her mother. Her jaw is still stubbornly set, like she’s worried I’m going to rail at her at any moment. I want to, and I damn sure will. But it’ll be done in private, away from Maisy.

“We were going to stay here in a motel for a couple of days, but it seems Malus doesn’t have any,” she remarks.

“No,” I say tightly. “Malus has no need for motels. You can stay with me.”

She opens her mouth to protest, but wisely shuts it again at the look in my eyes. She doesn’t want to test me right now. I’m already barely holding on to my temper as it is.

Just then, an older gentleman steps into my office. He moves directly beside Ellie, who looks at him and offers a small smile. The way her eyes soften sends my control closer to the edge.

Who in the fuck is this guy?

As if sensing my thoughts, Ellie turns back to me. “Judge, this is my uncle, Declan. Declan, meet Judge.”

I eye the man, taking in his protective stance beside the two females. He has to be in his early-to-mid fifties. Tall, brown hair with gray streaks on the sides, and dark-brown eyes. His face is covered with a trimmed beard. From the looks of him, he seems to keep in shape.

He holds his hand out, and I look at it for a moment before shaking it. I give his hand a firm squeeze and receive one in return. There’s something about the man that makes me reluctantly like him. Maybe it’s the way he seems to guard Ellie and Maisy, like he’d step in front of a moving car if it meant protecting them.

“Ellie’s told me a lot about you,” he says, his voice deep.

I hold in my surprise at his statement. I can’t imagine anything she said was good.

“We’ve been staying with Declan the last few months.” I look back at Ellie. “He’s been helping me with Maisy.”

I bite back the harsh words wanting to slip out. Later, she’ll fucking explain to me why she waited so long to come to me. Along with why she kept my daughter a secret.

“I’ve got extra rooms at the house. You three can stay with me,” I announce, daring Ellie to refuse.

Thankfully, she doesn’t. “Okay.”

“Mom,” Maisy calls, and we all look down at her. “I’m hungry and tired.”

Ellie’s face softens as she tucks a piece of hair behind Maisy’s ear, love shining in her eyes. “I’ve got something in the car you can have. While you sleep, I’ll run to the store for some groceries.”

“Give me a minute to shut down my office, and we’ll head to my house. I can make us something to eat.”

“She has a strict diet. I’m not sure—”

I cut her off. “My kitchen is stocked, and if I don’t have what she needs, I’ll run to the store.”