“It doesn’t end there, either,” Judge adds. “Someone saw a cherry red Raptor visiting his place and cleaning out his house a few hours later. Strange, isn’t it?”
So he did send someone to spy on us. Interesting.
Hands in my pockets, I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “Yeah. Very strange.”
“I’m sure he had it comin’, too. Probably lost a few bets. Couldn’t pay up. So whoever it was, they had no choice, you know?” Judge rattles on. “Gotta get your hands dirty every once in a while if you’re running an underground gambling ring, am I right?”
“We wouldn’t know,” Ford returns. “But it’s nice you stopped by?—”
“Did you hear about his daughter, too?” Judge continues as if his youngest nephew hadn’t spoken at all, and I swear the stupid organ in my chest stalls out completely. “I know you got your, uh,” Judge scratches his jaw, hiding his mirth as he meets my stare, “sexual appetite from the Harden side, but…” His smirk falls, swallowed up by brevity. “You’re not one to have sleepovers. Are you, Jag?”
“Must’ve passed out,” I offer.
His eyes thin as if he doesn’t believe me, even if his words hint at the opposite. “With Virgil Reeves’ daughter in your bed? Talk about bad timing. For you, not her,” he adds. “At least she wasn’t at the house when it was raided. That could’ve been messy, right?”
“And why is it bad news for me?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Shit.
I shouldn’t have said anything. But now, it’s too late.
Well aware he has me exactly where he wants me, Judge says, “Because if I can piece together how she came into a good chunk of change during last night’s event, and her father happens to be the same guy who had the shit kicked out of him this morning, I dunno? It might, uh, it might look bad for your business.”
A muscle in my jaw jumps, but I don’t take the bait. Not again. “What business?”
And just like that, the facade drops, and Judge scoffs. “You know, the sooner you start trusting me, the sooner I can get the hell out of here.”
“Or you could grow a pair and tell your brother to go to Hell,” Ford offers. “We do it all the time.”
Judge sobers. “Yeah, and look where it got you.”
“Growing a business and kicking ass?” Ford volleys. He threads his hands behind his head. “Yeah, it’s a real bitch.”
Judge scoffs. “What business?”
Damn. Two mistakes in one conversation. Guess it’s what we get for pulling an all-nighter. We definitely need some sleep before we tell him how our entire organization is run.
“He already took our trust funds,” Hawke reminds him.
“You’re right, he did. But he has the power to take away a lot more. He and Gus both do,” Judge warns.
“Two sides of the same coin, am I right?” Ford offers.
“Ain’t that the truth.” Judge laughs again, but there’s little humor in it. “You remember Rudy, right? My old bandmate?”
Hawke’s gaze narrows. “What about him, Judge?”
“Did a lot less and lost his life.”
“Did a lot less than what?” I challenge.
“Than stepping on toes, tarnishing the family name, and making deals with scum like Gus Toro.”
My gaze narrows. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t because you don’t listen,” he growls. “Neither did I. And neither did Rudy.”
It’s a tale as old as time, like in the old Disney movie,Beauty and the Beast. My father enjoyed embellishing certain parts. Like how Rudy was jumped at The Pelican right when IndieCent Vows, Judge’s band, was finally gaining some traction in the music world. Okay, jumped is a bit of a stretch. Apparently, my uncle was running his mouth to some lowlifes from The Drift who didn’t appreciate the man’s candor, so they threw the first punch, Rudy jumped in to defend Judge, things got out of hand, and the rest, as they say, is history.
