Page 36 of Judge’s Obsession

KAYLIE

One Week Later

The cabin is quiet. Peaceful. But I know nothing is how it seems. If I step one foot outside, I’ll find someone from the Iron Thorns keeping an eye on me.

I don’t fault Judge for it. Honestly, it makes me feel safe. The immediate threat might be in the rearview now that Demon is dead, but there’s nothing stopping Preacher from making an example out of Judge and me.

My hands go still, the garment resting in my lap. I should be scared for my life. But as I trace the letters of the patches I’ve just finished stitching into the leather, I can’t help but feel a sense of pride.

The needle and thread dangle from the final stitch as I lift my cut and admire my work.

I made it from scratch.

On my second day living under Judge’s roof, he surprised me with a sewing machine and all the supplies I could want. There’s a room upstairs filled to the brim with fabric and notions. A reminder of just how much he cares about me and what I want in this life.

It’s almost laughable how much I fought this outcome. Now, as I sit in my favorite chair near the window, where I can see the land stretching for miles, I’m truly happy. Happier than I ever thought possible.

My smile spreads as I drape the cut across my lap and snip the thread. In a few minutes, Judge will be here to pick me up. There’s a celebration tonight. Or at least that’s what he insists.

I know better.

Frankly, it’s cute that Judge believes I’m still as innocent and naïve as I was when I showed up on his doorstep. I’ve never been very good at keeping my head down and being the quiet Little Mouse men believe me to be.

I overheard Ghost telling Judge they tracked down one of the men they believe is involved in holding the women captive.

I get it. Judge doesn’t want me anywhere near what they’re up to. He wants me safe and secure. And it’s about more than making sure I feel safe.

I’m his weakness.

That’s why I won’t say a word. I’m stronger than he thinks, and when this is all over, I’ll remind him of the woman he chose to claim as his own.

I slip into my cut and pull it snug around me, hugging the leather still warm from my lap.

The door swings open, and I turn to find Judge paused at the threshold.

His hungry gaze sweeps over me, smoldering with an all-too-familiar desire that mirrors my own.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs huskily.

Shivers race through me as he prowls across the room. It’s so reminiscent of the night I showed up on his doorstep that I take a small step backward. Then I grin when I see the flicker of heat and warning in his eyes, promising the most delicious punishment if I make one wrong move.

Slowly, I turn my back to him, allowing him to see the finished design.

Stitched across the back in bold letters are the words Property of Judge.

I glance at him over my shoulder, then squeal as he rushes me. In seconds, he scoops me into his arms and throws me over his shoulder.

“Judge!” I laugh as he charges up the stairs toward our room. “We have to leave. The party⁠—”

“We can be late,” he announces with a swat to my ass. “I’m taking what belongs to me.”

An hour later, we arrive at the clubhouse.

Judge has my cut, insisting he’s going to announce that I’m his in front of the whole club, even though it’s no secret. I’m not sure when he plans to do it, but that’s barely occupying my thoughts.

There’s a tension in the air unlike the easy camaraderie I’ve grown accustomed to. I exchange a glance with Cherry, who seems to sense it, too.

That’s when I realize Judge isn’t the only one who’s disappeared into the back rooms. The men in his inner circle are missing as well.