Page 94 of Judge's Mercy

I don’t expect anyone to be awake as I leave, but I walk through the clubhouse anyway. I guess I was hoping maybe someone would be waiting. All’s quiet, though. Goodbyes aren’t really a thing for bikers, and everyone already gave me the customary “keep the rubber side down” last night. It’s fine.

Walking back outside through the main door, I’m balancing my bags on one arm while trying to dig my key out of my pocket when I get a feeling there are eyes on me. I look up and suck in a sharp breath when I see Myla leaning against my bike.

She looks so fucking good. Her black hair is a little darker than the last time I saw her; it might even have a blue hue to it, though it’s hard to see under the fluorescent motion lights in the lot. My mouth goes dry as I take in her black jeans, leather boots, long sleeve black shirt, and black leather vest with a prospect patch. Shit, I didn’t know what a turn-on it would be seeing her in a cut, but my pants are real snug right now.

I can’t tell from her expression if this is a sad visit or a happy one. Her lips, the ones I’ve been dreaming of kissing just one more time, are in a flat line, but her eyes are lifted the way they get when she’s excited. It’s anyone’s guess how this’ll go, so I keep my own emotions to myself.

“Hey, Judge. Heard you were skipping town,” she says, and fuck, I’ve missed her voice. Mostly hearing it calling my name or telling me how good I’m making her feel, but this is good too.

“I am.” Standing three feet from her, I set my bags down. “You here to say goodbye or to tell me to get lost?”

“Neither, actually,” she says, confusing me.

“Then why are you here?”

“Well, first, because I missed you.” The words feel like she’s tossing me a live grenade. I need to tread lightly so I don’t get my hopes up and be forced to watch as my whole world explodes again.

“And second?”

“Because I have a confession.” She grins like this is a game, making me relax a fraction.

“Oh yeah? Have you sinned?”

Her smile broadens. “I’ve been stubborn and petty, holding a grudge against someone I love.”

She has to be talking about me, right? I inch closer, hoping my assumption is right. “That’s not very Christlike of you.”

“I know, and it’s come to my attention that, even though I was being awful and shutting that person out, they were still looking out for me and trying to keep me safe.”

“Sounds like someone who loves you.” I step another couple of inches closer, feeling less like it’s a live grenade she’s giving me and more like it’s an olive branch.

Her face scrunches. “Yeah, that really made me feel like a piece of shit.”

“Did you apologize?”

“Not yet, but I’m getting to it.” She reaches for my hand and tugs me the rest of the way to her. “My next confession is that I’ve been keeping something from someone. Is that the same as a lie?”

“Depends. It could be a lie of omission, which is technically still a lie.”

“Can I tell you the situation, and then you can let me know if I need to confess or not?”

“Sure.”

“I knew not just any apology would do because I know I hurt this person deeply, and they didn’t deserve any of it.” She grips each side of my cut in her small hands, keeping me close. “And I had to do it quick because they were planning on skipping town, and I couldn’t let them leave without knowing how sorry I was.”

I tuck her hair behind her ears, getting lost in her pale blue eyes that are such a striking contrast to the color of her hair. “I think you’re doing all you can for penance.”

“I thought hard about how amazing this person is and what incredible gifts they have to offer. Not just to me, but to the community. That had me thinking big, so I called in some reinforcements and, in less than forty-eight hours, we did it. Or, at least, as much as we could under that time crunch.”

My brows knit together. “What did you do?”

“Instead of telling you, can I show you?”

“Sure.” I look around for a car I don’t recognize. “Have you gotten a new car yet?”

“Yeah, but I was hoping you’d take me for a ride.”

“Can you? With your arm, I mean?”

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