Justus (In Safe Hands Book 3)

by S. M. Shade

  Justus

  In Safe Hands: Book Three

  by

  S.M. Shade

  Copyright © 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cover art by Ally Hastings at Starcrossed Covers.

  Prologue

  Justus

  Nine years I’ve been waiting for this day. Every kid counts down to their eighteenth birthday, but I’d bet my left ass cheek none of them want it as bad as me.

  I’m free.

  Free from group homes and temporary foster parents who only take kids in for the government money. No more sleeping four or five to a room with my backpack shoved under me so the other kids—or adults—can’t steal my hard earned money.

  And I earned it. Every penny. Long nights shaking my ass and being felt up by women and men alike. I was sixteen when I was hired by Peckers—an exotic dance club catering to women and gay men. The manager barely glanced at my fake ID before grunting, “I’ll pay you in cash, kid. And you can keep half your tips.”

  Because I’m no fool, I also insisted on eighty percent of my lap dance money. That’s where I make a killing. For two years I’ve been working five nights a week while still going to high school, and I’ve managed to put away enough money to live on my own and still graduate. Today’s the day I’ve been planning for, the day when all the hard work pays off.

  My high school guidance counselor tried to convince me to go to college, since the state would have to pay, but that would mean remaining under their control. I’m done taking orders from strangers who don’t give two shits about me.

  I’m out of here.

  I’m going to find my sister.

  The group home I’ve been living in the past two years is empty as I pack my new-to-me sedan with all my belongings—namely, a trash bag full of clothes. There’s no one rushing out to tell me good-bye or wish me luck. I’m on my own, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary. I’ve been alone since my sister, Hannah, and I were jerked from our beds nine years ago.

  Okay, not beds, we never really had beds, but we were taken from the only place we knew and the only family we had. I have no idea who my father is, could be the mailman for all I know, and my mother was way more interested in keeping a needle in her arm than caring for two kids.

  At first the caseworker tried to keep Hannah and me together, but after a few years, we got lost in the system. The last time I saw her was four years ago, when she was thirteen. She’s seventeen now, and I have no intention of leaving her in the system another year. I have a car, job, and an apartment. They’ll have to give me custody.

  I park outside the Department of Families and Children. Ironic name since they tear apart more families than they help. My caseworker waves me into her office like she’s been expecting me. “Mr. Alexander, happy birthday.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I assume you’re here for help transitioning? I can recommend a center for struggling youth…” She shuffles papers around on her desk.

  “I’m good, thanks. I have a job and an apartment. I want to know where my sister is,” I demand, getting straight to the point.

  “Ah, yes, Hannah Alexander.” She busies herself at her computer. “That girl is a runner.”

  That’s news to me. “A runner?”

  “She’s run from four families, the last one just two months ago.”

  “Where is she now?”

  She spins and faces me, slipping on that fake sympathy mask they all don. “I’m afraid I don’t know. She’s been reported as a missing person, but the authorities haven’t located her.”

  “She’s been missing for two months? Why the fuck wasn’t I told?”

  Her lips purse. “Watch your language, young man. You were underage. We had no duty to inform you.”

  Leaping to my feet, I slam my hands down on her desk. “Fuck your duty! She’s seventeen years old!”

  A security officer steps through the door, and I take a deep breath, struggling to get my anger under control. I don’t want to spend my first night as an adult in a jail cell.

  “I’m going,” I snap, when he tries to grab my arm.

  Walking to my car, I feel truly alone for the first time in my life.

  Chapter One

  Sadie

  “Great job!” I high five the seven year old boy who is still learning to walk with his prosthesis.

  “It doesn’t hurt as much as it used to.” He grins up at me. Why can’t all my patients be as hard working and resilient as the children?

  “You were brave and worked through the pain.” I give him a quick hug. “I told you that you could do it.”

  His mother smiles as he walks back to her with a pronounced limp. “Now can I have a candy bar?”

  Laughing, she turns to me as he heads down the hall to the vending machine. “Thank you.”

  “He’ll meet with the amputee therapist next time. He’s doing great. I’d love to make some of my adult patients watch him. They could learn a thing or two.”

  His mother laughs. “I’ll bet the men are the worst.”

  “Oh yes, you’d think I was killing them.”

  My phone buzzes in my pocket, so I excuse myself to answer. “Sade! About damn time. I’ve been trying to get in touch with you.”

  “I have a job.” Of course my brother doesn’t understand. He’s never worked a day in his life.

  “Right, anyway, are you still coming for Mom’s birthday?”

  “Yeah, I’ll be there. How is she?”

  He sighs. “It’s not looking too good. The doctors say her heart is just too weak. They’re giving her a year, Sade. Right now, though, she’s up and around, excited about next week. And you’d better bring your boyfriend with you. It’s all she can talk about. What’s his name again?”

  “I’ll be there, Doug. I’m at work. Got to go.” I end the call and slump into my desk chair.

  I never should’ve told Mom I was seeing someone. She was diagnosed five years ago with congestive heart failure and has only continued to decline. The doctors have done all they can.

  Her biggest concern when it comes to me is that I’m not married. In the past, I’ve shrugged it off since I’m just not the marrying type. But once she got sick, I didn’t want her to worry about me, so I told her I was seeing someone.

  Now, I’m screwed.

  After my last patient of the day, I decide a drink is in order. Ayda, my best friend, answers her phone with a laugh. “Hey girl, what’s up?”

  “Just leaving work and I need a drink.”

  “Get your ass over here. I have wine.”

  “On my way.”

  Ayda and I have been friends for over five years, ever since she was assigned to me as a patient. After suffering severe chemical burns, she was left with scars on her face and one side of her body. I helped her get some range of motion back, and we hit it off. She’s more introverted than I am, but she’s also one of the strongest, most compassionate people I’ve ever met.

  We haven’t spent as much time together lately since she moved in with her boyfriend, Dare, so I’m glad to hang out with her tonight. I’ve painted myself into a corner
with the whole fake boyfriend situation, so I’m hoping she’ll have some advice.

  I even went so far as to call a few male escort companies, but they want way more money than I can afford. Yeah, I was that desperate.

  There are multiple cars parked outside Ayda and Dare’s place, so I’m not surprised to see all the guys hanging out on the porch. “Sadist!” a familiar voice calls as I approach, and I swallow a groan.

  Justus Alexander. Tall, with a mop of blond curls and a boyish smile that reveals a dimple most women would love to kiss. Not me, of course. The man is undeniably sexy, but he drives me insane. Ever since he found out Ayda was going to try to set us up, he’s been relentless, flirting and teasing me. A group of women from work dragged me to his strip club a few months ago for a bachelorette party, and I might have flipped him in the junk when he thrust it near my face. Since that day, he’s called me Sadist.

  He hops down the front steps to meet me like a sugared up rabbit. “I wasn’t expecting you, but I can clear my schedule.”

  “I’m not here to see you, dumbass.” He follows me up the steps and into the house, the guys’ laughter trailing behind us.

  His hand falls to his chest, feigning offense. “You wound me.” His smile widens. “But don’t worry, I’m still willing to go halfsies on an orgasm.”

  Before I can respond, Ayda emerges from the kitchen and plants a palm on his chest. “Nope, out, out, out. Living room is for girl talk only at the moment.”

  “Come on, Tiny Dancer. Don’t be like that.” He drops his voice to a loud whisper. “Besides, if you keep touching me, Sadist is going to get jealous.”

  Ayda chuckles. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

  “I’m jealous of people who don’t know you,” I reply, trying not to smile.

  A grin breaks across his face and he turns to Ayda like I can’t hear him. “She doesn’t want to like me, but I’m winning her over.”

  “Uh-huh, well, do it from outside.” She escorts him to the door, but he flashes one last smile at me before going back to his friends.

  Zoe, Ayda’s friend, waits for us in the living room, an open bottle of wine in front of her on the coffee table. “That man is crazy about you,” she giggles.

  “You got the crazy part right. How is Landon?”

  Zoe’s husband, Landon, has a genetic disease that prevents him from going outdoors in the sunlight. “He’s good. He’ll be here in a little while. The guys always seem to invade our girl’s night.”

  Justus, Landon, Dare, Jeremy, and Tucker are the guys she’s referring to. They’re all close friends and they work together to track child molesters and online predators, reporting them anonymously to the police. They call themselves In Safe Hands, or ISH. Ayda was a little hesitant to tell me about their organization at first, since what they do is technically illegal, but who the hell would argue against saving children from sexual predators?

  “So you banished them to the porch?”

  “Yep,” Ayda replies with a grin. “Pour yourself a glass of wine.”

  We spend the next hour chatting and laughing together before Ayda asks, “Are you still going to visit your mom next week?”

  My head falls back to rest against the back of the couch, and my frustrated groan fills the room. “Yes, but I don’t know what to do. You’ll never believe how much the escort service wanted.”

  Zoe’s eyebrows jump up as I continue.

  “Five grand! They want five grand for a week!” I run my hands through my hair.

  “Good. No offense, girl, but you don’t know what kind of psycho you might get. I don’t want you to end up chained to a water heater in some creep’s basement.”

  “So, you’re looking for a cheap hooker?” Justus drops beside me on the couch. Great. I’ll never live this down.

  “Quit fucking eavesdropping!”

  “It’s not eavesdropping if I can hear you from across the room. Where did you learn to whisper? In a helicopter?”

  Ayda covers a laugh and I grumble, “Don’t encourage him.” Sighing, I lean back. “I just want someone to pretend to be a long term boyfriend. My mom lives halfway across the country and I don’t see her often. Her main concern is that I have a man to take care of me.” A huff escapes my chest. “Like I need shit from any man.”

  “So, you lied to your mom and now you’re busted if you don’t show up with a devoted man in tow?”

  “Yes, you’ve successfully summed up what I just explained.”

  “I’ll do it. I could use a week away,” Justus volunteers.

  Yeah, that will happen.

  Ayda laughs at the expression on my face, but Zoe shrugs and says, “Justus could pull it off. He’s good with people.”

  “It could work,” adds Ayda. “At least you’d be safe.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. Take Justus, the man who hits on anything with a pulse, to meet my mother? I shake my head. “I’ll figure out something.”

  “Okay,” Justus sighs, resting his foot on his knee. “I’m just thinking of your poor mother when she finds out her daughter is a lonely spinster with too many cats.”

  “I don’t have a cat!”

  “It’s only a matter of time.”

  His eyes dance with amusement. The bastard is enjoying this. “Why would you want to spend a week with strangers?”

  “You’re not a stranger.” He gives me a smile I’m sure earns him a few extra bucks at the club. Good thing I’m immune. Kind of.

  I can’t deny he’s attractive. Sexy. Fine, he’s fucking gorgeous, but he’s a dog. Still, if I paid him to keep his mouth shut and play along, I think he could do it. It’s when we’re out of my family’s presence that he’ll drive me insane trying to get in my pants, for no other reason than being able to say he did. I’m strong willed though, so I could handle him.

  “There wouldn’t be any sex involved. You realize that, right?”

  “It’s really cute you think so, Sweets. There’s no way you can spend an entire week with this.” He runs his hand down his chest. “And not rip my clothes off in a frenzy of frantic lust.”

  I turn to Ayda and Zoe, who wear identical smiles. “You really think this is the guy I should take home to meet my family?”

  “Do you have a better idea?” Ayda asks.

  “Tell your mom the truth?” Zoe suggests. “Or say you broke up?”

  My shoulders droop. “I want her to know I’m okay.”

  Justus’s searching gaze is unnerving. I would have bet this guy had the depth of an Arizona puddle, but right now it feels like he can see straight through me to all my secrets.

  His smile falls away and he looks me in the eye. “Look, all bullshit aside, I’ll go with you. I’ll pretend to be the perfect gentleman for a week. I get away from the club for a vacation and you don’t have to disappoint your mom.”

  After considering it for a few minutes, I reply, “I’ll give you a thousand bucks, plus pay for everything while we’re there. It can be a…business arrangement.”

  “Whatever blows your skirt up, Sweets.”

  He grins at my glare. “Don’t call me sweets. And you have to take this seriously. No chasing after strange vagina while you’re with me.”

  “Relax, I won’t chase any vagina but yours.”

  Ayda and Zoe burst into laughter and I groan, lying back and covering my eyes with my arm. “I’m going to regret this.”

  “Just one thing,” he adds. “I don’t fly, so we have to drive.”

  “She lives over fifteen hours away!”

  He shrugs, that insufferable smirk stamped on his face again. “No worries. I have hours of music on my phone and an awesome singing voice.”

  * * * *

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m going to spend a week with Justus, the man who drives me crazy on a good day and makes me want to kick him in the nuts the rest of the time. I’ve been accused of being a bit…wild in the past, but this has to be the stupidest thing I’ve ever attempted. I just want Mom to kn
ow I’m okay. It’s bad enough she has to worry about Doug, my twenty-eight year old brother who lives in her basement and won’t take care of himself.

  I don’t understand it. We’re complete opposites. I worked my ass off in school, graduated a year early, went to college and had my degree as a Physical Therapy Assistant just after my nineteenth birthday. He seems satisfied playing video games all day.

  The doctors have given Mom six months to a year to live. I wanted to take a leave of abscence from work and stay with her, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She threatened to go into a hospice center if I tried. So, I took some time off to visit her. I’m hoping I can talk her into letting me stay and take care of her.

  Justus insists we take his car, so he’s picking me up. My suitcase is packed and waiting by the front door when he arrives, a wide smile on his face. “Ready, Sweets?”

  Rolling my eyes, I resist the urge to argue with the nickname for the hundredth time. He’s too stubborn to listen. He grabs my suitcase when I reach for it and bows, gesturing toward the door.

  It’s going to be a long week.

  “So,” Justus says, merging with traffic on the highway. “Since we’re now deeply in love, we should probably get our story straight. In case your mom asks questions. Plus, it’s a damn shame you don’t know anything about me.”

  He’s probably right. “Fine,” I sigh. “Mom thinks we’ve been dating for about nine months.”

  “How did we meet?”

  “She never asked.”

  “Porno shoot?”

  A snort of laughter escapes me. “Try again.”

  “My strip club?”

  “You are absolutely not a stripper.”

  “Agreed.” He turns and grins at me. “I’m an exotic dancer.”

  “Not when my mother asks.”

  “Okay.” His fingers drum on the wheel as he thinks. “I’m a computer programmer and we met at a grocery store. You took one look at my handsome face and was blinded by love.”

  Laughing, I scoot my seat back and recline, letting my feet stick out the window a little. I’m surprised that I’m actually having fun. Maybe this won’t be as bad as I thought. “A grocery store will work, I suppose.”