Page 98 of Judge's Mercy

“What do you mean?”

“You know, like adultery, cheating, stealing, that kind of thing. You could handle that, right?”

“I guess, but I don’t understand why you’re asking.”

“Maybe it’s better if I show you.” I pull the doors open and secure them with door stoppers. “Come on.”

Judge stops short when he finds the faces of everyone he loves in the chapel. It’s dead silent as the whole club grins wide, waiting for his reaction, but I think he’s still confused. I don’t blame him. We’re in a church filled with big, scary badasses from one of Northern Nevada’s most notorious MCs, and no one has been struck dead yet.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

I wrap an arm around his middle. “Well, I mean, the chapel isn’t anything fancy, but there are pews, a pulpit, and some stained glass. What else do you need?”

“What else do I need?” His eyes are wide as he tries to wrap his head around what I’m trying to convey.

“Yeah. This is your church. Your opinion matters.”

“My church?”

Cy approaches him, holding out a hand. Judge goes to shake it, but he pulls him in for a back-slapping hug that would’ve sent him spiraling before, but now that his secret is out, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Proud of you, son. This’ll be good.” Cy stands at Judge’s side, folding his arms and taking in the chapel as the club members line up down the aisle to take their turn giving their brother a hug.

“I still don’t understand what this is.”

“Duhhh, the club bought you a church,” Lucky says, taking his turn to pull Judge in for a man-hug.

“You don’t have to use it as intended. We can just do what we’ve been doing every morning at the clubhouse if you want. It’s up to you.” Tinleigh is the next to approach, but it’s not Judge she hugs—it’s me.

“I love you, sis.”

“Love you too.”

I owe a lot to Tinleigh. She was the one who helped me pull this off, along with Bexley March, the Royal Bastards’ attorney. She doesn’t do real estate law, but at least she understood the contracts, which was more than any of us could say. Because Judge would get suspicious if we tried to stop him from leaving when he planned, there wasn’t enough time for the property to close, but we were able to get the owner to agree to rent us the church until the closing in three weeks.

“You guys bought me a church?” Judge deadpans.

“Technically, the club bought property with a building on it. Whether it becomes a church is up to you. Just don’t expect to see me showing up for Sunday service. Churches give me the creeps,” Rigger says, knocking elbows with Judge.

“I just got the best idea.” Navy tucks herself into Rigger’s side. “We could get married here! Judge could officiate.”

“Is it even legal to marry your step-sister?” Lucky asks, knowing it’s still a sore spot for Rigger.

“She’s not my step-sister anymore, asshole. My dad is dead.”

“I’d love to marry you two,” Judge says, stopping the argument.

Navy flashes Judge a beaming smile. “We’re so glad you’re staying.”

And so it continues. Everyone—except Riot, who isn’t even here, but no surprises there—takes their turn wishing Judge the best with his new church. Once the congratulations are over, we take a tour as a group, everyone throwing out ideas about what Judge could make it into and improvements he could make to the property. Judge keeps my hand clasped tight in his the whole time, as if I’m the only thing tethering him to the ground.

Once the tour is over, everyone slowly trickles out until it’s just Bones, Judge, and me. I’ve spent a good amount of time with Bones over the last few weeks—having two concussions so close together is apparently bad—but I think he was just being a good friend and keeping an eye on me for Judge. I didn’t mind. Bones is hilarious, and I have to agree with Tinleigh. He might not be the priest of the club, but he does look a whole lot like the dude in the paintings hanging on the walls in here.

“I better head out too,” he says, bringing Judge in for a hug, but it’s not one of those back-slapping, secret handshake ones; it’s a real one between best buddies. “I’m real glad you’re staying, bro. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I’m glad too.”

“And we owe it all to this tiny little forest sprite.” Bones hugs me then, and I nearly get a contact high off the weed fumes that have permeated his clothes, hair, and even his skin. Walking backward up the aisle, he smirks. “I’d tell you to christen the place, but from what we all heard earlier, you already did.”

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