Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107595 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
That was too true. People saw what they wanted to see. Someone could be staring directly at the truth and still not see it.
Maybe that was how it was for Cassie, too. She didn’t see the signs that her husband was addicted to gambling. Though, it was a high that could be hidden a little more easily than drugs or booze because it wasn’t directly in her face. Especially if he was doing it online at work and not going to the track or a casino to scratch his itch.
Eventually, when the gambler hit rock bottom, the truth would come out. But unless there were other outward signs, something like that could be hidden for a while. Overdue bills, bounced checks, car repos, foreclosures were the big red flags. Getting arrested and charged for embezzlement? That shit was a flashing neon arrow.
By that time, it had been too late.
By that time, the asshole not only fucked himself but his family.
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.