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“He watched you fuck King, and that moron still wanted you.”
“That’s right, Jane. Because Eugene was my friend. My best friend. He still is and will forever be, but you are nothing more than a hateful woman who can’t accept rejection. I’m sorry you felt rejected, but that didn’t give you the right to make my life a living hell. For years, I thought maybe I said something, offended you in some way, but I did nothing wrong. Not a damn thing.”
“My brother should have killed you.”
“Maybe he should have, but he didn’t, and when I walk out of this hall, I’m going to do so with my head high, knowing that I did nothing wrong.”
“You’re still a whore.”
“Maybe I am, but that’s not for you to judge. You, however, are going to jail for aiding and abetting a fugitive, for setting my house on fire, and for trying to frame my friends for drug possession.”
Before the woman could say another word, Mike approached her. “Jane Stanley, you are under arrest. Please put your hands behind your back.”
“I demand to know the charges.”
“Were you not listening, Jane? I think Sugar covered everything well.” King grinned, walking over to Judge Tomlinson and handing him a file. “I think you’ll find all the information in there is correct. Gator said if you need more, to let him know. He had to get back to Louisiana and wanted me to invite you to visit sometime. The crazy Cajun said he’d love to take you gator fishing.”
“I think this will do.” Judge Tomlinson smiled, looking at the documents in the folder before closing it and handing it off to the DA. Shaking King’s hand, the Judge added, “I might take him up on that.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Sugar
Life was different after the council meeting.
For starters, my business got a jump in revenue as residents no longer felt threatened to come in and buy what they wanted. In fact, I had orders set up all the way into fall for everything from birth announcements to birthdays and weddings. So much so, that I had no choice but to hire help, since I was the only person who worked in the shop.
So, I offered Fiona the position. The young girl jumped at it, thanking me profusely, as she hated working at the bowling alley.
I completely understood.
While my tormentor was now behind bars, Fiona still had to deal with teenage angst, and I knew more than anyone that people could be cruel. Fiona didn’t have many friends, but she had a bunch of older brothers and sisters who would always have her back.
As for my boys, they were now legally Benjamin and Sean James. Ben was over the moon, and everywhere he went, he made sure to introduce Eugene as his dad. My little Sean never left Eugene’s side. Wherever Eugene went, Sean was with him. I couldn’t pry those two apart, even if I wanted to. I never realized how much my boys were longing for a father, but seeing how Eugene was with them, how much he adored them, I knew I couldn’t have asked for a better father for my boys.
The club brothers all volunteered to help Pyro and his construction crew to demolish what was left of my house, clearing out the debris and getting the lot ready for construction. However, Eugene didn’t want to rebuild. Instead, he got the permits for a playground. Now, instead of a new home, the kids in my former neighborhood now had a safe place to play.
Hearing the bell over my door, I ignored whoever it was, knowing that Fiona was out front to help customers. Concentrating on the frosting mixing in my industrial blender, I heard, “Uh, Sugar, you might want to come out here.”
“What’s wrong?” I shouted back, measuring the correct amount of vanilla to pour in the mixture next.
“Uh, nothing’s wrong.”
“Then why do I need to come out there?”
“Because I said so, Shug. Now hurry the hell up.”
Smirking, I shook my head, placing the vanilla on the counter and turning off the mixer. Reaching for my hand towel, I quickly wiped my hands before heading out front, only to come to a dead stop when I saw my shop packed full of brothers from the Sons of Hell and their wives. My parents, along with Martha Cohen and Granny, were smiling. My eyes found my sons, who were clean and dressed impeccably, while they stood proudly in front of Enigma, each holding a single white rose. But it was Eugene who had my attention.
Dressed in a clean black henley, jeans, and his leather cut. Hair slicked back and cleanly shaven, Eugene smiled as he held a full bouquet of white roses in his hands.
“You shaved,” I muttered.
“Didn’t want to look scruffy in our wedding pictures.”
“Wedding pictures?”
“Kids got my name. Only one who doesn’t, is you.”
