Page 5 of Judge's Justice

"So I can contact you if the Vipers come looking. So you can contact me if something happens." When I hesitate, he adds, "You don't have to trust me. But that Viper's going back to a club of forty-three men who are at war with mine. They're going to want revenge for what I just did. And you're the only witness who can tell them anything about you."

My hands are shaking as I pull out my phone. I read him my number and watch him save it.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"Nora. Nora James."

"Judge. Warren Cole. But everyone calls me Judge." He glances at Grace. "What's her name?"

"Grace."

He nods. Puts his phone away. "I'm going to follow you to Oak Street. Make sure you get inside safe. Then I'm going to patrol the area for the rest of the night. Make sure nobody else shows up."

"You don't have to—"

"Yeah," he says. "I do. That's my job. Patrolling. Watching for Vipers trying to scout Millhaven." His eyes are steady on mine. "I was already doing it when you got here. That Viper? He wasn'there by accident. He was gathering intel about anything he could get his hands on."

"And now he's going to report about me."

"Yeah."

"I just wanted to start over." My voice cracks. "I just wanted somewhere safe and quiet."

"I know." Something in his expression gentles. "But you picked the right town at the wrong time. I'm sorry."

He walks back to his motorcycle, and I realize my hands are shaking. Grace is still staring at him, her face full of curiosity instead of fear, and I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.

Judge swings one leg over the bike, and the engine rumbles to life. He doesn't look at us again. Just waits.

I grab both suitcases and Grace's hand. Start walking. Behind us, the motorcycle follows at a distance, its headlight cutting through the darkness like a promise.

Or a threat.

I don't know which yet.

But I know one thing: Millhaven isn't calm.

And I just walked straight into a war.

Chapter 2 - Judge

Fucking hell.

I keep the bike at a crawl, headlight tracking the woman and the little girl as they walk down Main Street. Nora. Her name is Nora. And the kid is Grace. Five years old, deaf, brave enough to smile at a man twice her mother's size who just put another man on the ground bleeding.

The unluckiest timing in the world.

They get off a bus at eleven at night in a town that just became a war zone, and the first person they meet is a Viper on reconnaissance. If I'd been five minutes later, if I'd taken the northern route instead of coming through town...

I don't let myself finish that thought.

Nora's struggling with the suitcase, the one with the broken wheel that keeps tipping. I should have offered to take it. She's now trying to hold Grace's hand at the same time, trying to look like she's not terrified, even though I can see it in every line of her body. The kid keeps looking back at me, her face curious instead of scared.

She signs, and Nora signs back, and I understand every word. Hasn't happened in years. Haven't met another person who knows ASL since—

No. Not going there either.

I focus on the street instead. Main Street is quiet this time of night. Everything closed, a few lights on in upstairs apartments, nothing moving. But I'm scanning anyway. Every alley. Every parked car. Every shadow that could hide a man with a Viper patch and a grudge.