Page 1 of Judge
Chapter 1
Judge
It’s going to be fine. All I have to do is walk into the diner, march up to Kaia, let her know she’s in danger and that she needs to come with me. Easy. Simple. There will be no push back, no questions. Kaia will just follow along like a little lamb and smile politely while she does it.
Yeah, right. Kaia will take one look at me and kick me out on my ass. If she doesn’t do that, she’ll stab me in the eye with a fork. Either way there will be violence. I just know it. I shouldn’t be surprised really. I’ve known Kaia for most of my life. Well, I had known Kaia for most of my life. Before I fucked that up by getting my dick wet with Chelsea Masters, the high school bicycle. Up until that point Kaia and I had fooled around a few times. We had both been awkward as hell, so we wanted to lose our virginities to someone we trusted. The first time sucked. Badly. The second and third time? Well, let’s just say that after a decade and a half of fucking easy women, those two times were something that I’ve never felt since.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. I throw my leg over my Harley Davidson Roadster, the navy blue tank glistening in the sunlight. Dismounting I stand and take another deep breath.This is going to go badly, and I’ll have witnesses. I try to ignore them, but the Girl Gang is all lined up on the pavement like a damned receiving line. I give them a nod as I walk past, because let’s face it, if I ignore them they’ll give me even more shit to add on to what’s going to be a pretty shitty day by anyone’s standards. I mean this and then the fact that our club is under attack and we’ll be locking down? Yeah, I think I’d prefer to be back out in the sandbox I met Rhodie in, getting shot at.
I take one last deep fortifying breath before stepping up to the door of the diner.
“Yo Boomer! Outta the way!” a kid yells, skidding up next to me on his skateboard, kicking and catching it in one slick movement.
“Who the hell are you calling Boomer?” I grumble but he pays no attention, instead flinging the door open wide enough for him to slip through, but my big ass gets hit on my way in after him.
Fucking youth. There’s probably a reason why at the ripe old age of thirty-three I haven’t had any children. I’m scary looking. I’m quiet. I’m fucking grumpy. Don’t get me wrong, the MC kids and babies are all good, I can smile at them and say hi, but let’s just say that I don’t see myself with small versions of me any time soon.
“Hi! Can I help you? We have seats around the counter or you can take a table at the back?” A young girl asks from beside my elbow before glancing at the punk, then back at me.
I stare down at her, blinking to try and get my thoughts back together after that fucking teenager set me off kilter. I can see the little bastard now, standing behind the counter smirking at a teen on the other side. As if I needed another reason to avoid this place.
The little brunette stares up at me in anticipation of my answer. “Shit, sorry, um, counter.”
“Perfect!” She bounces off with way too much energy, joining that little douche canoe behind the counter. He shoulder bumps her and I get the urge to scare the shit outta him. That’s not how you treat women.
Shaking off my already worsening mood, I nod once again at the Girl Gang, this time all of them perched along the counter, with Pops and Mad Dog in tow. Fuck my life. Deciding to just bite the bullet I make my way to the counter, staring down the little skateboard punk.
“Yo, can I help you?” the punk smirks.
“Yeah, you always try to run over customers?”
“I gave you a heads up. Not my fault your reflexes suck.” He gives me a sickly sweet smile. “What can I get for you?”
I have no idea how old this kid is, probably because I don’t know enough to compare, but I’d say he’s a little younger than Sage and Niko. Maybe around early teens but big for his age. He’s tall and solidly built, but not old enough to have grown out of the slight gangliness that kids his age have.
Choosing to ignore the little shit I decide to just ask, “Yeah, I’m looking for Kaia.”
His brows pull down, eyes flicking to my cut, then back up to my face. “Why?”
My eyes move to the little brunette, standing at his elbow. She’s a heck of a lot smaller than he is, but flicking between the two I can see the resemblance in the set of their chins. There’s something oddly familiar about these kids, but I’d remember them. Well, the asshole one at least.
“Yo, creep, stop staring at my sister.” The kid steps in front of the brunette, shielding her.
“Why are you looking for our mom?” his sister asks.
“Annie-Bella, go serve those people down there, I’ll take care of this,” the boy murmurs, giving his sister a look. She nods onceand then heads toward the Girl Gang who have eyes glued in my direction.
“Leo, what the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you that you’re barred from my establishment?” Kaia’s husky voice barks in my direction.
She’s standing in the middle of her diner, hands on her hips, hair wild, looking like fucking Medusa. If her gaze could turn me to stone she would. She’d probably then grind that stone to dust and dance on it. Or take a shit on it.
“Kaia, I need to talk to you. It’s urgent,” I plead, palms out, as if to implore some soft, sweet part deep inside her.
Instead, she throws her head back and laughs in my face. “No. Nope. Not at all. Doubt it. You need to get gone Leo Jackson. And don’t come back.” She scowls my way, but I don’t miss the way her eyes dart, the way they constantly look past me to the kids working the counter.
There’s a flutter in my gut that things aren’t quite what I think they are. There was never any explanation about where Kaia went. One day she was there staring at me like I’d ripped her heart out, the next, gone. I tried reaching out and nothing. No word, no letters. Shit, I even created a fucking social media profile to see if I could find her. Then she pops up in my town, an hour away from where we grew up, and bars me from entering her diner. The best fucking diner in town. No, something is up, and I’m going to fucking get to the bottom of it.
IknowKaia. I know all her quirks and tells. I also know her weaknesses. So I don’t argue. I just watch her. Watch her every move. Watch the way her dark eyes dart to her kids and back. The way she bristles every time I look in their direction. The way she wrings her hands and gives them tight smiles when they begin shooting her concerned glances.
