1
Judge
Eight Years Ago
Saying goodbye to Meadow Falls again isn’t easy. Hell, I had to turn my back on it once before when Ashe moved us to Willowbrook Ridge to sink his fingers in there.
This is what’s needed, though. Cutting the last of Ashe’s poisoned ties is the final move. The surgical strike to cut out the rot so something clean can finally grow from it.
“That bastard took the conversation surprisingly well,” Ripper grunts beside me, his scowl a permanent fixture. If I have to guess, he’s disappointed. He wanted a bloodbath, not a business meeting. If he had his way, he’d stuff the severed fingers of every Crimson Road dealer down their own throats.
The image is dark enough to bring up a chuckle, a sound I quickly stifle. I can’t afford to encourage the monster in him, not when I need a strategist, not just a blade.
“We should keep our eyes peeled,” I say, the words feeling automatic. “Blaze won’t take this lying down. He’ll most likely continue to push his product. We can only hope a warning will be enough.” I know him. He’s a chess player, like me, and I just took his queen. He’ll have a countermove. He’ll want to fight. I just have to wait until he makes his move.
Throw in the fact that I can bet he’s still pissed about the coup surrounding Ashe’s downfall.
Ashe was too gone to be helped. Power-hungry and just as destructive as those I’m cutting ties with today, I couldn’t let him turn such a quaint little town into another battlefield.
Our hometown is already fucked because of such men. So, while some people will miss the tyrant who held Steelwood together by strings barely keeping it together, I don’t regret for one second being the one who had to take him out.
“If they cross the border, then they’re asking for their own death.” His nose scrunches, his words hot. Even just the curl of his hands is enough of a warning.
“I think we need to work on your image.” Cracking a grin, we turn the corner on a long stretch of sidewalk with the hopes of enjoying a taste of nostalgia. Grab lunch, see those cute diner women who always flush when they get a good eyeful. The best way to say goodbye. “At this rate, you’re going to start scaring prospects off. Teach yourself how to smile.”
He looks disgusted by the idea of being liked. I can’t blame him. He’s never been the friendly type, keeping his distance. Ever since poor Sarah got caught up in something she shouldn’t have been near, he’s made sure not to get attached.
The only side he’s glued himself to is mine, and right now, that’s how it needs to be. Until all the dust settles, he can stay right there. After that, if he can allow it for himself, I’ll try to help him become the man he was before I found him. Someone a little more human.
Apoprings through the air, but I don’t have enough time to figure out where it’s come from. There are more that follow, but it’s the first one that’s still ringing in my ears. What feels like an eternity, and no time at all, I’m suddenly hit.
The pain is instant, and I can’t even gasp in surprise. Thrown off balance, everything moves in a blur as I realize I’ve been shot.
A noise I’ve never made in my life, a roar, leaves my lips. Fueled by both anger and surprise.
I’ve been grazed before, sure. But never like this. Not without warning.
What the fuck.
Trying to see who pulled the trigger, all I hear is the peel of wheels. The familiar roar of bikes tells me all I need to know.
Being back home has lowered my guard, and this is the cost of such a slip.
In the blink of an eye, Ripper’s suddenly there. Hovering over me, I realize I’m flattened against asphalt. When did I fall? I guess with the pain radiating from my chest, any other pain is considered less.
Instead of his usual snarled look, I’m seeing panic behind his eyes.
Taking far too long to register what has happened, I don’t recognize the noise I make as his hand covers the throbbing area. Instead of taking away the pain, he adds to it.
The pressure of his hand fucking hurts, and even as I weakly swat at his wrist, it’s not enough to make him move. He’s insistent, barking more words at me.
Unsure of what he’s saying, I’m focusing on breathing. Something that’s always been so simple, so natural, now feels difficult. The noises leaving my lips are too distracting. The groans, the rasps, all of it. I can’t even tell what happened to those bastards anymore.
If they ran, Ripper should be chasing them down, putting them down. Instead, he’s right here.
God, I don’t want a bullet to be what takes me out. I’m only a third of the way through my life. Maybe half, with my habits. I wanted to grow old, damn it. I don’t know, meet a woman, have a few kids. I’m a greedy man, but those demands aren’t terribly selfish.
“Judge.” Ripper’s growl echoes in my ear, a frantic effort to cut through the haze clouding my thoughts. “Don’t you fucking die. You need to see this through.”
