My stomach clenches with a dizzying mix of fear and his specific, focused concern. My heart hammers against my ribs, a traitorous drumbeat screamingyes, yes, yes.
Despite feeling fuzzy, I can’t ignore that my sister has a broken bottle in her grip now, already pointed at the prospect. Is she telling him to keep his distance? Or could she be threatening his life?
“Who do you want to watch over you?” he asks, drawing me back to him, his voice a low rumble meant only for me. “If they don’t already have their hands full, they’ll keep an eye on you.” He turns his head, scanning the room. His jaw flexes. “Warden’s careful. He won’t put you in any danger, but I’m on the fence with him. He helped Ripper with this mess…” He grumbles, moving on. “Stacks… Well, no, not Stacks. He can’t use a weapon to save his life.” His brows furrow. “Stay away from the prospects. They’re not strong enough.”
Raven growls, but I can barely hear her. I’m watching him, a slow, understanding smile tugging at my lips. With every name he dismisses, the list of suitable protectors dwindles. He’s systematically eliminating every other man in this room for me.
“It’s a shame you’re busy planning all of this.” The words leave me in a breathy rush, bold and unthinking. “I can’t ask you, can I?”
He doesn’t meet my eye this time, instead scratching his bearded cheek as he considers my question. The hesitation doesn’t feel like a rejection, but it must exist for a reason.
There’s still time to take it back. I could laugh it off, tell him I’m kidding, that I don’t expect the club president to babysit a bartender.
But a wild, desperate hope twists in my gut, urging me to push. To shove myself at him. “We already spend a lot of time together, you know?”
He nods, as if he’s already thought about it, and has already run this scenario in his head. “It would be more than just at the bar, though, Pen. I’m talking twenty-four-hour days until we make our move.”
If he’s trying to discourage me, he’s failing spectacularly. What he’s describing sounds less like a security detail and more like a secret, fervent fantasy I’ve never dared voice. My cheeks grow warm as the images flood my mind. Every meal together, every quiet moment, every night… knowing he’s right at my side.
“Yes…” I whisper the word, my nod firm. “If you’re okay with it, then so am I. Plus… Raven trusts you. She won’t throw a fit if it’s you.” It’s a flimsy excuse, and we both know it. This isn’t about placating my sister.
He grunts softly, a low, resonant sound that vibrates right through me. “Alright then. I’ll keep you safe.”
I know he will. The certainty is bone-deep. Out of all the men here, he’s the only one whose promise feels like an unbreakable law. He promised to keep me safe the day I arrived, scared and eighteen, and he has never once broken his word.
Raven’s earlier words settle over me once more, about getting information out of Judge if I tried. That alone sends a thrill through me, wondering what other truths I could uncover, what other walls might crumble if I’m brave enough.
Seven years is a lifetime to nurse a one-sided crush. I’m not that girl anymore. Maybe, under the guise of protection, I can finally get a taste of what it’s like to be seen as a woman by him—to be treated not as a responsibility, but as a desire.
Blushing hot at the thought, I look warily at Raven, worried about the broken bottle in her hand.
“He’ll be alright.” Judge notices my stare. Despite knowing her history, he sounds confident. “I told him that he can do what he has to if she tries anything.”
She’s calmed down over the years, but she’s still Raven. She’s got trust issues, and I’ve lost count of the early mornings her grumblings have woken me about that particular prospect.
This will be fine. It has to be. Trusting Judge with my life is easy. Trusting him with the fragile, hopeful thing beating in my chest is the real risk. And as I stand beside him, I decide it’s a risk I’m finally ready to take.
5
Judge
For a man living his fantasy, I should be happy. Hell, I should be celebrating this turn of events. Penelope is mine for the time being.
Nothing has really changed from our usual routine. Penelope manages the bar with her typical smile. Although now isn’t the best moment to stay close to her, given all the members inside, I find myself holding onto the stool beneath me.
Across the room, I can hear Ghost cursing as his fingers dig into his laptop. He’s upset, probably struggling to get into their camera feeds. Jumping straight back into his habits, I’m glad he’s just as excited to squash this bug.
They’ve moved their clubhouse over the last few years, and thanks to Haven, we know exactly where to pinpoint it. However, her knowledge doesn’t extend beyond the entrance of the building.
Scowling at the thought of not knowing everything I need to now, Penelope notices and drifts in my direction.
Keeping up with our usual habits, she presents a bottle of beer like it holds all the answers to all of my problems. Before she can set it down, I’m turning it down.
“No?” Penelope cradles the bottle, her smile growing soft. “Don’t tell me you’re cutting back.”
I scoff at the very thought. “It’s going to take something big to replace that. But, no. I need to focus.”
Funny that I’ve paired up with the biggest distraction in the room.
