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her being there.
    “My client is a photographer, Your Honor. He takes a
plethora of different types of photos, including scenery, erotic photography,
portraits, and stills. He is currently employed by a nature magazine to capture
stills of ocean scenery.”
    Snider was quickly interrupted by Barnyerd’s scoff. “If you
call hanging off the cliff at a nudist beach, taking pictures of unsuspecting
women—”
    “I object!” Snider barked, silencing the glowering attorney.
    “Sustained.” The judge stared pointedly at Barnyerd. “That
is just hearsay; there is no proof, since the evidence was destroyed.”
    Seeing Apollo’s body language, Snider quietly motioned for
him to sit. Apollo was starting to grow nervous, and stirred uneasily in his
chair. This shit was going downhill and fast. He caught himself glancing
uneasily over his shoulder at Romeo and Mace; neither showed more than poker
faces. Gee, that was a real help.
    As he sunk further down into his chair, his heart climbed
into his throat when Barnyerd spoke next.
    “He is also a flight risk and into illegal dealings as a
gang member, Your Honor.”
    A single brow rose as the judge looking pointedly at Snider.
“Gang?”
    Snider shook his head and stood back up, setting his pen
down on the yellow tablet he had been scribbling on. “My client is in a
motorcycle club, Your Honor. They are not into any illegal activities. In fact,
they just helped the ATF capture, and testified against, gun runners.”
    A surprised look crossed the judge’s face. “You’re with the
SixGun Outlaws, son?”
    All of his nervousness seized him as he rose up and nodded.
“Yes—” Apollo halted at the shaking tone of his voice, and cleared it before he
spoke again. “Yes sir, I am.”
    “Correct me if I am wrong, but didn’t your club raise over
ten thousand dollars for the local motorcycle safety department and pit bull
rescue?”
    “We did, sir.”
    The judge nodded, interlacing his fingers before him. His
voice grew stern and he kept his eyes directly on Apollo and Snider as he
spoke. “I hereby sentence you to three months of house arrest, where you must
check in weekly to a probation officer. After this time, it will be decided if
you must register as a sexual offender, as you will also be required to attend
meetings with a psychiatrist, who will present the court with a diagnosis prior
to any further sentencing.”
    Intense astonishment touched his paling face as Apollo
stared at the judge. House fucking arrest? How the fuck was he to go to work?
See his family? Get around? Have a normal fucking life?
    As the unspoken questions pounded his brain like a
jackhammer, Romeo leaned forward and whispered into Snider’s ear.
    Catching the movement, Apollo—unable to form words—turned
and stared at the two, his voice box frozen in shock at the fact that he might
be going to jail after all. The reassuring smile and nod from his lawyer wasn’t
helping the anxiety any.
    “Your Honor, if I may?” Snider rose up, smoothing down his
tie.
     
    * * * *
     
    Thorne wasn’t too sure why she was in a courthouse, other
than to satisfy the curiosity that had been piqued by Romeo’s vague plea. She
had run late trying to hide the battle wounds as much as she could. After
little success, she jumped into her Tahoe and raced to the courthouse.
    Walking in, she stopped short after seeing Dalton standing
there so pale and nervous. She had not seen him in months. His hair was now
cropped short and he sported a scruffy goatee, his ink was covered by the long
sleeves of the suit that hugged his broad shoulders.
    It was the withdrawn, haunted gaze of his cobalt eyes that
gave her pause. He was always happy-go-lucky, never showing any worry. Dalton
was one of the few glass-is-always-half-full kinda guys that sometimes got on
your nerves, but in a good way.
    When he looked away, she scooted onto the back bench,
listening intently to what was going on. Dalton? A voyeur? Highly unlikely. The
guy