Chapter 6 - Judge #3
Saint looks at Nora. "Ma'am, I'm Saint. This is Canvas. We're Judge's brothers. Iron Phoenix MC." He gestures to me. "We need to get him inside. Get him cleaned up and properly checked. Can we—"
"Yes. Of course. Please." Nora stands, pulling Grace with her. "Bring him inside. There's a couch. I'll get towels and water and, oh God, should I call an ambulance? Does he need a hospital?"
"No hospitals," I manage. "Saint used to be a paramedic. He can patch me up."
"Judge, you might have internal bleeding. You need—"
"No hospitals," I repeat. "Hospitals mean questions. Questions mean police. Police mean complications we don't need."
Nora looks like she wants to argue. But she just nods and runs inside. Canvas and Saint haul me to my feet. The world tilts dangerously. I grab onto Canvas's shoulder, fighting to stay conscious.
"Lean on me," Canvas says. "Come on, old man. Just a few steps."
Grace walks beside us, her small hand wrapped around my good hand, squeezing tight. She's stopped crying but her face is blotchy and her eyes are huge.
We make it to the porch. Up the steps. Through the door.
Nora has the couch cleared, towels laid out, a first aid kit open on the coffee table. She's moving with purpose now, focus, the fear channeled into action.
They lower me onto the couch, and I try not to scream. I fail.
Grace climbs up beside me immediately. Slowly, avoiding my bad side. She signs with shaking hands. "Does it hurt a lot?"
"Yeah. But I'm okay. Promise."
"You promised to be careful. You said you wouldn't get hurt."
"I lied."
"That's not funny."
"Wasn't trying to be funny."
Saint kneels beside the couch, already assessing. His hands move over my ribs, my face, checking pupils, checking pulse. His expression is neutral, but I can see the concern.
"Two broken ribs," he confirms. "Possible concussion. That shoulder's going to be useless for a week. Your face looks like you went through a meat grinder." He sits back. "You're lucky they didn't do worse."
"Wasn't luck. Was negotiation."
Canvas leans against the wall, arms crossed. "You negotiated to get your ass kicked?"
"They had security footage of Nora and Grace from the bus station. Said if I fought back, they'd go looking for them. Find out where they're staying. So, I took it. I had to."
I look at Saint. "You shouldn't have come. They recognized you. They're going to tell him you were here, protecting me, protecting civilians. You just painted a bigger target on your back."
Saint's jaw clenches. "I know."
"So why the fuck did you come?"
"Because I was available, and you needed backup. Because I knew if things went south, my medical skills would come in handy." Saint meets my eyes steadily. "And because I'm done hiding from Demon. I left the Vipers years ago. If he wants to make something of it, let him try."
"Saint—"
"I'm calling Phoenix," Saint says, cutting me off. He pulls out his phone. "I need to get you back to the clubhouse. I can do a better job patching you up with all the equipment and painkillers we have there. Here, I'm working with a basic first aid kit and hope."
"I'm not leaving them." The words come out harder than I intended. "I'm not going anywhere if Nora and Grace stay here unprotected."
Saint looks at me for a long moment. Then at Nora, who's standing by the couch with Grace pressed against her side. Both of them watching us with wide, frightened eyes.
"Of course not," Saint says. "They're coming with us. Phoenix will agree. We'll put them in one of the spare rooms at the clubhouse. Keep them under Iron Phoenix protection until this is resolved."
"We can't just—" Nora starts.
"Yes, you can," Saint says firmly but not unkindly.
"Ma'am, those Vipers saw you. They saw your daughter.
They know you're connected to Judge now, which means Demon's going to use you to get to him.
To get to our club. The safest place for you right now is surrounded by nine armed bikers who've already decided you're worth protecting. "
"But my rental—"
"We'll handle it," Canvas says. "Pack what you need. We'll grab it and go."
Nora looks at me. Her eyes are searching, desperate. "Judge?"
"It's the right call," I manage to sign. The adrenaline's wearing off and everything hurts worse. "Come with us. Please. I can't… I can't protect you if you're here and I'm there."
Grace tugs on her mother's sleeve, signing rapidly. "Mama, we should go. We should stay with Judge and his brothers. It's safer."
Nora's eyes fill with tears. "Baby, I don't want to put you in more danger—"
"The danger's already here," Saint says bluntly. "We didn't bring it. The Vipers did. But we can protect you from it. That's the difference."
Nora closes her eyes. Takes a shaking breath. When she opens them again, there's resolve there. Decision.
"Okay," she whispers and signs at the same time. "Okay. We'll come."
Grace pumps her fist in victory, then immediately climbs back onto the couch next to me, careful of my injuries. She signs with one hand while the other holds mine. "We're staying together. All of us. Like a family."