Page 36 of Judge's Justice

Movement in the corner catches my eye.

Nora and Grace.

They're on the small couch pushed against the wall, both of them asleep. Grace is curled into her mother's side. Nora's head is tilted back against the wall, one arm around Grace, the other hand resting on her daughter's shoulder.

They look beautiful.

Nora's face is softer in sleep, the worry lines smoothed away. Grace's mouth is slightly open, completely peaceful.

Fuck. I want this.

I want to wake up and see them every morning. Want to be the one they turn to when they're scared. Want to be the wall between them and everything terrible in the world.

I want to be part of their family.

Family. Grace said it so easily, like it was obvious. Like the three of us together made sense. And maybe to a five-year-old it does. She doesn't understand the complications, the age gap, the fact that I'm a biker in the middle of a war and Nora's a single mom running from her own demons.

But fuck if I don't want it anyway.

I was willing to die for them. Took that beating knowing it might kill me, knowing those ribs could puncture something vital, knowing I might never wake up. And I'd do it again. I'd do it a hundred times if it meant they stayed safe.

If I'd died, I would've regretted nothing except not telling Nora, not showing her, how much they both mean to me.

"You're awake."

Saint's voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn my head slowly, because everything still hurts like a bitch, and find him standing in the doorway, arms crossed, that professionally neutral expression he wears when he's assessing patients.

"How long?" My voice is rough, barely above a whisper.

"Two days." Saint walks into the room, keeping his voice low so he doesn't wake Nora and Grace. "You've been out for two full days. The drugs I gave you were strong, but you needed it. Your body needed time to start healing without you trying to get up and do something stupid."

"Two days?" I try to sit up. Pain shoots through my ribs and I bite back a curse.

"Easy." Saint's hand is on my good shoulder, pressing me back down. "You've got two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder that I had to reduce, severe bruising across your torso and face, and a mild concussion. You're lucky they didn't rupture anything internal. So yes, two days of medically induced sleep was necessary."

"Grace and Nora—"

"Have been here the entire time. Well, not the entire time. They ate with the club, explored the compound. Canvas made them his famous chili. Brick taught Grace poker with candy. But Grace insisted on being here when you woke up." Saint glances at the couch. "Kid's stubborn. Wouldn't take no for an answer."

“She okay?"

"She's fine. Brave as hell, actually. Asked me about a hundred questions about medical procedures. Her mother translated" Saint's expression softens slightly. "She's a good kid."

"Yeah. She is."

"Now. Try sitting up. Slowly. Let's see how your body's handling movement."

I push myself up, gritting my teeth against the pain. My ribs scream, my shoulder protests, but I manage to get vertical without passing out. Progress.

Grace stirs on the couch. Her eyes open slowly, bleary and confused. Then she sees me sitting up, and her whole face lights up.

She's off the couch and running toward me before Nora even wakes up.

"Judge!" She doesn't sign it.

Her hands are reaching for me, wrapping around my middle in a hug that makes my ribs howl but I don't care. I wrap my good arm around her, holding her close.

When she pulls back, she raises her voice. "You're awake! You're okay! I knew you would be! I told Mama you'd be okay because you promised and you keep your promises!"