26
JAGGER
You’ve gotta be kidding me.
“Seriously?” Ford groans from the back seat as I pull into the driveway.
“If he scratched Hawke’s bike, he’s gonna kill him,” I mutter. Parked dangerously close to Hawke’s bike is a familiar black Harley belonging to our one and only uncle.
Ford laughs. “If he scratched Hawke’s bike, he’s already dead.”
My baby brother has a point. If Hawke’s bike is here, it means Hawke’s already inside. Alone. With our dear ol’ uncle. I almost feel sorry for the bastard, and I definitely feel sorry for my brother.
Turning off my truck’s engine, I rest my wrist on the steering wheel and sigh. “Think he knows?”
“Timing says he might,” Roman grumbles. “Want me to hang out here while you guys deal with him?”
“Nah.” I shake my head and reach for the door handle. “If he wants to ambush us, he can’t expect privacy.”
Together, we head inside, finding my uncle in a wingback chair next to a crackling fire with Hawke on the sofa opposite of him.
“See you’ve made yourself at home,” I note.
Judge glances toward us and smiles. “Figured I might as well. It’s getting cold on the bike. Thought I’d warm up a bit.” His attention catches on Roman. “Hey, Rome.”
“Roman,” my best friend corrects him. “Hello, Judge. Good to see you.”
Sensing Roman’s sarcasm, Judge smirks back at him. “You, too.”
“How was the concert?” Roman adds.
Judge’s mouth lifts even more, but he doesn’t answer him.
Yeah, Uncle. We’re watching you, too.
“Hey, Unc.” Ford squeezes Judge’s shoulder, then collapses onto the sofa beside Hawke. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Daddy Dearest riding your ass again?”
“Like always,” Judge returns. “How have you boys been?” He cocks his head. “Have a nice weekend? Do anything…interesting?”
Subtle, Judge. Really subtle.
“Nothing much,” I deflect.
“You sure? I mean, it’s Halloween. You guys are too young to stay at home and pass out candy, aren’t you?”
“Nah, Jagger’s right. It was…” Ford covers his yawn with his hand. “Really boring, actually.”
Judge’s mouth curves up. “You haven’t heard anything about a guy’s house being broken into, have you? Over in The Drift?”
Well, shit. I figured he knew about the carnival games, but Violet’s dad? Apparently, we don’t give Judge enough credit.
Exchanging a quick glance with me, Ford, and Roman, Hawke says, “No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, it was crazy,” Judge continues. “He was seen at the old carnival grounds. Lost a bet. Lost his shit. Was escorted from the premises by a guy who, coincidentally, looked just like you, Rome.”
The muscle beneath Roman’s right eye jumps, but he stays quiet, smart enough not to take the bait.
“Crazy,” I offer dryly, tossing his own words back at him.
