With what Deke was saying, it seemed Cassie didn’t come to the Grove to hook up with her hubby and hide. It looked like she might have come to escape the bullshit Lange created.
She was trying to scrape off the shit her husband splattered all over her and her little girl. Which made him determined now more than ever to help catch that fucker.
Lange not only fucked over kids dying of cancer, but his own daughter, as well.
A minimum-security prison wasn’t good enough, which was where a white-collar criminal like him would go.
Suddenly, the twenty percent didn’t matter. Just like it became personal for Deke, it had become personal for Judge.
Fuck the money.
Dennis Lange had done wrong.
And Judge was going to make it right.
Chapter Eight
Cassie parked her Honda at the curb in front of the house, shut off the engine and sat in the dark, her eyes glued to the rearview mirror.
Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. But she had made a decent amount of tips tonight.
Some of that money would have to go toward Daisy’s Christmas presents. The holiday was coming up soon and she wasn’t prepared.
She hated to use any of the money for anything other than a new place for them to live, but Heather and Tyler insisted they were in no rush for her to move out.
As kind as that was, she still felt bad being a financial burden on them and destroying their privacy, especially when they were trying to make a baby.
But that wasn’t her immediate concern.
She glanced at the clock on the dash and yawned. 2:35.
Every night she worked at Crazy Pete’s, she’d come home, quietly take a shower, then climb into bed with Daisy, curling around her daughter and falling asleep almost immediately because she was so exhausted.
Tonight was the first night she’d closed the bar on her own and, being a Saturday, it had been busy.
But she did it.
She did last call at ten minutes before two and everyone left without too much hassle with only one straggler. She quickly counted the cash, put it in the safe, wiped things down and shut off the lights.
Stella and Dodge had a thing tonight at what they called “The Barn,” which they said was their MC’s clubhouse.
Actually, it was a celebration because Dodge was getting “patched in” as a full member of the club and would no longer be a prospect. Which was a big deal she was told.
Soon the back of his vest would look like Trip’s and Judge’s and have both rockers and the huge center patch.
In the week or so she’d been working at Crazy Pete’s, she was getting to learn some of the lingo of an MC. She also asked Dodge and Stella, even Trip, a lot of questions when things were slow.
Cassie found it all fascinating.
But she wasn’t sure if an MC was like a family or brotherhood, or just a club of friends. But whatever it was, they took it seriously, that was for sure.
She’d met Ozzy, who was a little older, and Dutch, a grizzly man who was a lot older. And also Cage, Dutch’s son, had stopped in once for a couple of beers. But Cassie pretty much figured word was getting around in their MC that she was the newest employee at Pete’s, and everyone wanted to check her out.
Tonight, she’d been on her own, but she’d handled everything smoothly and now had a nice wad of cash in her purse. A nice, thick wad.
She smiled, but it quickly dropped when headlights bounced off the rearview.
She was surprised to see him tonight. She figured he’d be at the “patch party” for Dodge since the newest Blood Fury member hadn’t returned before Cassie locked up the bar. She figured that meant the party was still going strong.
But she should’ve known he’d be there. Parking down the street. Watching her.
Every night she left Pete’s, he followed her home. Every single night she worked.
It took a couple of days to figure out it was him. While he kept at a distance, he didn’t totally hide. It wasn’t hard to miss his tail since traffic through town at the time she left Pete’s was pretty much non-existent. It was a small family-oriented town where there wasn’t much going on past dinner time.
She had left Rochester so she could live in peace. And now, here in Manning Grove, she had a stalker.
She grabbed her purse and dug for her cell phone. Hitting the power button, her finger hovered over the nine button.
She should call the police and report him.
She should.
But tonight, like every other night recently, he didn’t stay long. The headlights cut through her CRV as he did a U-turn and headed back in the other direction.
She tossed her cell phone onto the passenger seat and started her SUV again, put it in Drive and did a U-turn of her own.
She followed him this time. Through town and to a road that led out into the country. She glanced at the street sign as she turned. County Line Road.
She kept a good distance, barely keeping his taillights in her view until they disappeared when he turned down a lane.
To a farm.
She stopped on the road at the end of the lane and watched his Expedition make its way past a large, old farmhouse and then disappear.
Did he live at this farm?
She chewed her bottom lip, debating whether to follow him down the lane or just go back to her sister’s house and climb into bed.
The latter would be the smart thing to do. She was tired and where he lived was none of her business.
But why he was following her was. That was what she wanted to know. Why the hell this man, who knew her name, who knew she’d been married, was following her home every night.
He’d only come into the bar that one time.
Just that once to talk to her.
When she refused.
But maybe it was time to get things straight with him.
She slowly made her way down the rough dirt and stone lane and as she passed the dark farmhouse, she noticed a bunch of other dark buildings. What looked like different sized sheds. Some huge, some small. But what caught her eye was the big barn.
Maybe that was “The Barn” they talked about. The MC’s clubhouse.
As she drove closer, she noticed the building didn’t have any windows on the lower level and the large ones on the second floor were dark.
Maybe the party was over.
But vehicles were still parked haphazardly around the outside. However, Judge’s Ford was not one of them.
Where did he go?
She turned off her headlights, using the December moon to light her way around the building. She headed along the right side, away from what looked like a courtyard with 55 gallon drums scattered around the area and a pavilion.
The building was surprisingly long and another newer looking building was attached to the back. Again, no windows except for a couple on the second floor.
She kept the Honda at a crawl as she got to the back corner and hooked a left. Then she slammed on the brakes as she almost hit a dark figure.
A big one.
With hands on his hips and long, endless legs spread apart.
Shit.
Before she could put the vehicle in reverse, he moved. She tried to move faster, her hand shaking as she shoved the shifter forward, but as her foot left the brake, the passenger side door opened, and he jumped in.
She slammed her foot back on the brake pedal. “Get out!”
“Why you followin’ me?” His deep voice and his larger than life presence made her SUV feel tiny.