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I’d laugh, except she seems genuinely distressed. I slide my hand down over her ass and squeeze. I kiss her stubborn jaw and nip her earlobe. “All I was thinking about was coming home to see you.”
Finally, the tension seems to drain out of her, and she melts into me. “I know you have a job to do here. And I trust you. I—”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Fuck, even though I know they have no sexual history together, I still want to strangle Ted every time I think of that asshole showing up on Lilly’s doorstep claiming to be her fiancé. So yeah, I’d probably be insulted if she wasn’t annoyed.
We make a damn fine pair.
“Why are you laughing at me?”
I lean in and kiss her forehead. “Let’s go home.”
“You sure you don’t need to stay?” She shoots a glare across the room. “Do you need to talk to Steer?”
Fucking love her for putting club business first. “It can wait.” I kiss her nose. “I want to go home and fuck the frustration out of you.”
“I’m not frustrated.”
“You’re wound up.”
“And your cock is the cure?”
“Yup.” I stand and pull her along behind me.
Outside, she hugs me from behind. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles against my cut.
“Why?” I reach around, bringing her to my side, and give her ass a slap. “Told you I was happy to see you.”
She’s parked across from me and gives the car an unhappy glance before meeting my eyes. “Can I leave my car here?” She wraps her arms around my waist, leaning into me. “I want to ride home with you.”
Electric pleasure warms me from the inside out. As much as I love fire-breathing, threatening-to-cut-off-my-dick Lilly, this softer side of her does me in every single time. “Nothing I’d like more.”
She peeks up at me, one corner of her mouth twitching. “I brought my helmet and a jacket, just in case you said yes.”
“I’ll always say yes to having you on the back of my bike.”
While she grabs her stuff, I send Steer a text letting him know I’m leaving and that I’ll need someone to drop off Lilly’s car in the morning.
Steer: No problem
Me: How’d it go?
Steer: Bitch is a little psycho. Pawned her off on Suds. He likes crazy.
Fucking great. Laughing, I let him know I’ll be in touch in the morning.
I stuff my phone in my pocket and hold out my hand to Lilly. “Let’s ride, pretty girl.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Z
A couple days later, I’m still waiting to find out whether Myra talking to the DA will help my case.
I finally get a call from my lawyer with the information I need.
“We have our hearing tomorrow,” I say to Lilly as soon as I get off the phone with Sanford. The dude tried to reassure me, but the thought of Myra’s statement not helping and this thing dragging on sears my stomach like acid.
“I can’t go, can I?” Lilly says.
“You know the answer to that.” I love how much Lilly wants to be there and hate boxing her out, but it’s for her own protection.
“There’s no chance they’ll take you into custody again, right?”
Funny, that’d been the first thing I asked the lawyer too. “Sanford said there’s almost zero chance that would happen. I haven’t violated the terms of bail or committed any other crimes.” Well, except bribing that cop, but that’s really neither here nor there and not something Lilly needs to worry about. “But he also couldn’t one hundred percent guarantee I’d be walking out today.”
“Fucking lawyers,” she grumbles.
I chuckle at her irritation, but honestly, I like Sanford’s honesty. He never promises more than he can deliver and talks to me like an equal. Not that it’s his ass that could be going to prison, but at least he takes my case seriously.
The next morning, Lilly fusses and shoves me into something “presentable” for court. I’m dying to rip off the collared shirt, but she’s probably right. I should at least make an effort to look like a responsible citizen who doesn’t deserve to rot in prison, right?
Rock, Rooster, and Murphy go with me but we split up at the courthouse as soon as I spot my attorney.
Rock slaps my shoulder. “You got this.”
“Thanks, brother.”
Sanford’s all fired up when he sees me. Dude grabs my arm and it’s only the fact that I like him that stops me from ripping off his hand and smacking him with it. He pushes me into one of the attorney-client meeting rooms and shuts the door.
“I have excellent news.”
“About time. Spill.”
“First,” he levels me with a piercing stare, “do you know a Myra Simon?”
Shit. “I know of her. I’ve never actually met her. She’s the wife of a brother who recently left our charter.” Like, permanently.
He nods. “Well, turns out he confessed to her before he left that he burned down Malone’s. Did you know that?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I shout, pretending this is brand new information.
“This is as serious as it gets, Z.”
“No fucking kidding, it’s serious. I’m gonna kill that motherfucker when I find him—”
He tsks at me. “Please don’t share any future crimes you plan to commit. I don’t need to be disbarred this close to retirement.”
“It’s a figure of speech.”
“Right.” I swear he gives me the polite, lawyer version of an eyeroll. “Anyway. She claims he took off because he’d get into trouble with the club if they found out he participated in the arson.”
“Damn fucking right he would’ve. I woulda stripped his damn patch for bringing that kind of heat on us.” It’s true too. No matter how much money Malone had been offering, I never would’ve authorized participating in an arson scheme with that shady douchebag.
I stare at Sanford for a minute. “What does this mean for my case, then?”
“It means it’s getting dismissed today. I don’t even need to call Myra to the stand. The DA wants to bury this case before it makes him look foolish.”
“Thank fuck.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, this should be a procedural formality today. You shouldn’t have to say more than ‘yes’ or ‘no, your honor.’”
I grin at him. “I think I can do that.”
As we head into the courtroom, I flash Rock a discrete thumbs up. His expression doesn’t change, but he nods at me.
The judge takes his sweet ass time entering the courtroom. For a dude that insisted everyone be there at nine sharp, he’s awfully lax. He finally graces us with his presence around nine forty-five. The wait through all the formal “all rise” bullshit is torture. I want this over with so I can get my life back.
So I can get Lilly’s shit home from California.
So I can finally marry her ass.
My case is thankfully called first.
The judge flips through the papers in front of him. “Mr. Frazier, good to see you again.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
“I see you’ve been a model defendant.” He stops and glares at the district attorney. “Obviously granting bail was the right call here.”
“I’m eager to prove my innocence, sir,” I assure him.
Sanford elbows me in the ribs. Guess he doesn’t want me going off-script.
“Your Honor, we have new information about Mr. Frazier’s case.”
He motions with both hands. “Give it to me.”
“A new witness has come forward with information about the arson.”
“A more credible witness than the one who claims she saw a black motorcycle at night near the fire?” The judge’s mocking tone makes me grin.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good, so I take it you’re dismissing the charges against Mr. Frazier.”
“Well —”
?
?Your Honor,” my lawyer says, “this is a waste of taxpayer money to continue this farce of a case against my client.”
“I agree. What are your concerns, Attorney McCann?” The judge waves his hands in the air. “Spit it out. As you can see, I have a full calendar today.”
“Well, the witness claims her husband, who, to our knowledge, is an active member of Mr. Frazier’s motorcycle club, committed the arson. We’d like to know what Mr. Frazier knows about this.”
The judge turns to me. “Well?”
I glance at Sanford who nods.
“This is the first time I’ve heard this, Your Honor. We’ve discussed what happened at length since my arrest. No one in my club, to my knowledge, was involved.”
“What’s the person’s name?” the judge asks.
“James Simon, but we’ve been unable to locate him.”
The judge turns my way again. “Can you help them out?”
“Sir, if he was involved, I’d absolutely turn him over, but as far as I know, he left our charter to ride cross country on his own. Something we call ‘going nomad’. Most nomads will stop at our other charters, but don’t answer to any one particular charter.”
“So, he’s not a member of your particular club anymore?”
“No, sir.”
“You don’t know where he is?”
“No, sir. When someone goes nomad, they don’t usually check in with anyone.”
“Have you heard from him?”
“No, sir. But I didn’t expect to either.”
The judge turns to the prosecution. “Satisfied?” His tone leaves room for only one answer —yes.
“Well, I think—”
“Good! Look how easy that was.” The judge bangs his gavel again. “The charges against Mr. Frazier are dismissed. You’ll file the necessary paperwork immediately, correct?” Without waiting for an answer, he glances at me. “You’re free to go.”
“Thank you.”
