Justify

by Kristin Harte

  “Yes, sir.” With one last squeeze, Gage let me go, shutting the door before running around the front of the truck to the driver’s side. He hopped up into the truck with animalistic grace, practically sliding into place behind the wheel. “Where do I go, Deacon?”

  “It’s a burn, right?” Deacon asked, coming to stand in the open door. “Hit up the emergency room over in Crystal Falls. It’s small, but they won’t question anything too much.”

  “Got it.” Gage started the engine. “And the restaurant?”

  “I’ve got your back on cleanup.”

  “Good. Because if the sheriff pins this on me…”

  He trailed off, glancing my way with an almost violent look on his face. I understood the unsaid. If they pinned those murders on him, if they came to take him to jail, my protector would be gone.

  And I’d be as good as dead.

  I scooted closer to Gage, resting my left hand on his thigh and squeezing tight, just as he’d gripped mine earlier. Offering what support I could give him while taking the comfort I needed. Gage looked down at me, dark eyes giving nothing away. But I knew. I understood his worries, and they matched my own.

  “Hey, Deacon.” I didn’t risk breaking eye contact with my brave man, didn’t let go of him either. “Don’t fuck this up.”

  Deacon snorted a laugh. “Jesus, son. You’ve got your hands full with this one.”

  Gage’s half smile brought out one of my own, and he shook his head. “You don’t need to tell me that. I’ve already figured it out.” He moved as if to put the truck in gear, finally dragging his gaze away from me and back to Deacon. “Take Rex with you.”

  Jesus, Rex. I hadn’t even looked for him since the kitchen, but I did then, spotting him with ease. The dog sat at Alder’s feet, watching us. Somehow looking regal in all his fuzziness. No longer baring his teeth or attacking anyone. Such a smart, brave dog…when I got back into my kitchen, I was totally making him a steak.

  Deacon knocked his fist against the side of the door. “No problem. I’ll bring him back to you tomorrow.”

  Without warning, I shivered violently, the cold washing over me so fast, the waves of it hurt more than just my hand. My entire body felt that ache. Through chattering teeth, I whispered, “Gage.”

  “Gotta go,” Gage said. Deacon nodded and stepped away from the truck just before Gage slammed the door, and then we were moving. Speeding down the alley and out onto Main Street at a rate well over the legal limit. Once on the highway out of town, Gage pulled me closer into his side. Laying his heavy arm over my shoulders and giving me a place to rest my head. “I’ve got you, princess.”

  Yeah, he did. Still… “I’m cold.”

  “Just stay awake, okay?”

  “I’ll try.”

  He was silent for a long time. But then…

  “You were amazing back there.”

  “I don’t feel amazing.” I snuggled closer. “You saved me.”

  “I got you hurt.”

  “You killed people.” Another silence, but this time, I broke it. “Thank you.”

  “For killing people?”

  “For caring enough to be willing to do that.” I groaned as a wave of pain made me shake harder. “I hope Rex is okay.”

  Gage leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “Rex will be fine. Let’s worry about you right now.”

  “Okay.” I swallowed hard, every inch of me trembling and suddenly so cold. “I can’t stop shaking.”

  “It’s shock, Princess. Just hang on. I’ll take care of you.”

  Which sounded really good right then, because I was pretty far past the point of taking care of myself, it seemed.

  Chapter Seven

  Gage

  My axe wasn’t sharp enough, the wood I chopped not hard enough, and the pain in my shoulder from swinging over and over again not strong enough to get my mind off of the shitstorm I’d somehow found myself in.

  Sitting in the hospital waiting for the doctors to finish working on Katie’s hands had been the longest hours of my life. Not even when I’d been shot, dealing with field medics digging in my shoulder and knowing Bishop was in the same situation, had been as bad. I’d spent every moment by her side, earning enough glares and seething glances from the nurses to fire up my temper. I may have been an asshole—okay, I definitely had been an asshole. Didn’t matter. No way had I been willing to leave her alone for a second.

  I’d been the same when I’d finally gotten her home. Well, not my home. I’d have taken her to my cabin, but it wasn’t finished yet. She deserved better than to be cooped up in a construction zone. Her apartment didn’t have cameras or security in place, so that hadn’t been an option either. I’d taken her to Bishop’s, where I could set the alarm system and activate the motion detectors whenever I damn well felt like it. Where I could keep her safe.

  For now.

  I grabbed another heavy log and set it on the cutting stump, squeezing my hands on the handle of my axe before raising it. Looking for some sort of peace in my head, some sort of pain to push me to the point of clarity. I had a feeling that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon, no matter how much wood I cut and stacked for the fireplace.

  I’d woken up early, before the sun had crested over the treetops to the east, with my arm half numb and my mood already pretty fucking sour. Crashing on the couch probably hadn’t been the best idea, but when I’d carried a sleeping Katie in from the truck the night before, I’d been forced to make an impossible choice. Even as keyed up as I’d been, I’d realized the sleeping arrangements wouldn’t be to my liking. I couldn’t have put her in Bishop’s bed—the idea of her in another man’s bed, even my best friend’s, hadn’t sat right with me. I also couldn’t have curled up next to her in mine no matter how much I wanted to. Not without knowing she’d wanted me there. She’d had enough taken from her that night—I wouldn’t take her consent away from her.

  So I’d tucked her into my bed, and I’d slept on the couch. My shoulder wouldn’t be thanking me anytime soon for that decision. Neither would my dick. Both things I could deal with better than the thought of seeing pain in those hazel eyes of hers again.

  I was still outside chopping wood—house alarm set and a note saying where I was and how to deal with the alarm system sitting on the pillow next to Katie’s in case she woke up—when Deacon’s truck pulled into the driveway. My dog was home. A good thing, too. The house had seemed oddly quiet without him following me around.

  I rested the axe on my shoulder as Deacon stepped out of the vehicle, Rex jumping down and racing past him to get to me. He knocked into my legs, immediately sliding into a sit position and looking up at me with eyes so dark and excited, I couldn’t help but smile.

  I crouched down and scratched his ears. Rex practically danced into my arms, whining and licking and basically being a happy dog. I loved that mangy mutt.

  “How’s my good boy?”

  “I’m just fine, thanks for asking,” Deacon said, shooting me a smirk as he strolled my way. “How’s Katie doing?”

  “Second-degree burns on her hand with two spots of concern for third degree. I have to take her back in a couple of days, but she was prescribed enough creams and painkillers to last a year.”

  “Good. That’s a brave girl you’ve got there.”

  No shit. Before I could answer him though, something on Rex’s white paw caught my attention. I grabbed his leg, settling a hand on his back to hold him in place as I took a good look.

  “Something wrong?” Deacon asked.

  Yeah, there was. “Looks like blood. He’s not cut, though.”

  “Must have been from the restaurant.”

  “You get cleanup done?” I asked, rising to my feet.

  Deacon nodded. “We made it look like a pressure cooker exploded—that’ll cover what happened to Katie and the damage to the doors. The gumbo was a lost cause. The other issues we needed to take care of?” He whistled and held up his hand, wiggling his fingers in the air with
a silly expression on his face. “They vanished into thin air.”

  Which probably meant they were buried someplace no one would think to look for them. Good. “So long as it’s done, I don’t care where they went.”

  “I took care of you. No worries.” He looked off into the distance, no longer smiling. “So…Camden.”

  Yeah. “He needs time.”

  “He needs a kick in the ass and some AA meetings, but that’s just my opinion.”

  He wasn’t really wrong. “Hopefully, he can figure his shit out and come home. He belongs here.”

  “Yeah. He does.” He frowned my way, looking me up and down. “You’re a terrifying sight standing there with an axe. You got more cleanup to be done or something?”

  I waved toward the pile of firewood I’d stacked. “I thought Katie might like a fire to keep her warm.”

  “Good call,” he said, completely deadpan. “Give the burn victim a fire to look at.”

  I shot the guy a glare but set the axe down anyway. “Okay, smartass.”

  He just grinned. “Don’t blame me because I think these things through. But seriously—I’m heading to Alder’s to go over a few things about how to handle this coming week. With Camden gone and, I assume, you on Katie’s personal guard duty—”

  “Yup.” No assuming necessary.

  “That’s what I figured. Anyway, being down two men means our ranks are too tight to keep up the standard protocols. Finn’s going to have to guard solo.”

  The youngest Kennard brother—also a former addict. Not a good mix when dealing with a motorcycle club that cooked meth. One he’d apparently bought from back when he used. “Katie’s not working for a few days, so the restaurant will be closed.”

  “She okay with that?”

  Probably not. Still, I shrugged. “Doctor’s orders. She needs to rest her hands.”

  “That’ll help, then. Keeps her out of the spotlight and knocks down the number of hours we need to monitor the Main Street part of town.”

  “You moving Mercy Bell out?” The daughter of the family that owned the hardware store in town. She lived in an apartment over her store with her son—the only people who actually lived on Main Street other than Katie, who rented the second apartment over the store from the Bell family. And Katie wouldn’t be going back anytime soon.

  “That’s one of the things we’re talking about tonight,” Deacon said. “Alder might see if Mercy and her son can move out to one of his family’s properties. It’ll alleviate a lot of the need for guards in that area.”

  It would, and keeping Katie with me—away from the restaurant and her apartment, places her uncle and, therefore, the Soul Suckers knew about—worked in my favor as well. Fuck, I hadn’t even mentioned her uncle to Alder.

  I needed to amend that mistake. “That reminds me. The guys last night?”

  Deacon’s eyes snapped to mine. “Yeah?”

  “They mentioned Baker. As in, Baker sent them, told them Katie’d be at the restaurant late. They even knew it had something to do with soup.”

  “Because it was gumbo night.”

  Everyone in town knew that. “Yeah.”

  “So either our good sheriff’s been spying or—”

  “Or someone’s got some seriously loose lips.”

  “You think she told him anything? He is her uncle, after all.”

  And wasn’t that the question. “I don’t know. Not intentionally—I can’t see her setting up here and starting a business, only to be some sort of traitor to the town.”

  Deacon nodded, looking just as doubtful about that possibility as I was. “But maybe in passing.”

  “Right. Good ol’ Uncle calls her up, and she fills him in on her life here.”

  “You ask her about him yet?”

  “Nope.”

  “You going to?”

  I wished I could have answered in the negative. “Yeah. Eventually.”

  “Well, don’t wait too long, man. Women get real cranky when they think you’re hiding something from them.”

  Except I wasn’t hiding shit—I was giving her time to heal. Totally different things. “You an expert on women now?”

  “Expert no, but I do have a second date with Miss Felicia tomorrow.”

  The liquor store clerk from Rock Falls and my personal weather girl as she had a degree in meteorology and an obsession with researching the models for the local weather patterns. She was also quite a bit younger than the man before me. “You finally gotten over the age difference thing, old man?”

  “Not in the least. She talks about when she had a crush on someone named Bieber. What sort of name is that?”

  “No clue. But hey, good luck figuring it out.”

  “Yeah, this old man will need it.” Deacon shook his head, looking almost pissed at the thought of having to google this guy. But really, he wasn’t that much older than Felicia. He also didn’t need any luck, but he wouldn’t be hearing that from me.

  “Tell Alder about Baker, okay? Tell him to text me if he thinks of anything or needs to know more. No calls, though. I don’t want the phone to wake up Katie, and I really don’t want her to overhear me talking about her uncle.”

  “Understood.” Deacon held out his fist, bumping my knuckles when I matched his move. “You did good last night, man.”

  Not even close. “I killed two men in front of a civilian, and I got her burned.”

  “You got her out. Big picture.”

  Yeah, right. Big picture view, I kept her from being kidnapped and likely killed. I still got her burned and made her watch me kill two men. Not things that would usually endear me to a woman who knew nothing about warfare and combat.

  But still, as Deacon hopped into his truck and drove off, heading for Alder’s place down the road, I couldn’t help but feel a little better. Deacon was right about one thing—I’d gotten Katie out. I’d fought those fuckers and gotten her to safety.

  Now I just had to keep doing it.

  “Gage?”

  I spun at Katie’s voice, my heart dive-bombing my stomach. She stood in the doorway to Bishop’s house, looking so damn beautiful in the morning light with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Even my dog abandoned me to head for her, racing across the yard and jumping onto the wood porch without a backward glance. I’d always known he was the smartest dog on earth.

  And I was an idiot for leaving her alone even for a second. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just woke up and…”

  And she was alone in a strange house. “Sorry—the temperature’s supposed to drop tonight, and I thought you might like a fire.”

  She pulled her blanket a little tighter around her shoulders, her face suspiciously blank. “Oh. So…I’m staying here again?”

  “Yeah. Is that okay?”

  Another shrug. Another blank look my way. I abandoned my wood chopping and took off my gloves, heading to the porch slowly. Giving her time to talk if she needed to. Letting her have her space. At least, until I stood right before her.

  I simply had to touch her, so I wrapped my fingers around the back of her neck, my thumb running along her jaw. “What’s wrong, princess?”

  She crinkled her nose but leaned into my touch, something I found fascinating. “Nothing. I think it was just…I woke up, and the house was so silent. I didn’t know what was happening or what to do.” She licked her lips, those hazel eyes holding mine as she whispered, “I didn’t know where you were.”

  And that probably scared her. “I won’t leave you alone again.”

  “Promise?”

  Fuck, those big, doe eyes killed me. “Promise. Now, come on. How about we head inside and watch some sort of cooking channel all afternoon? I might even make you popcorn.”

  Her grin restored the places inside of me that the pain on her face last night had broken. Put everything back together. “Sounds perfect.”

  It wasn’t—nothing would be perfect until I got rid of the threat against her—but it was something.
Spending a lazy day on the couch, I could do. Small and simple, but something she needed and would appreciate.

  One step on the path to making her understand just how much I’d do for her.

  Chapter Eight

  Katie

  Three days. The burns on my hand hurt for a solid seventy-two hours. Pounding the first, aching until I actually cried the second, and moving into highly uncomfortable on the third. By the fourth day, the skin still felt tight, but the pain had dulled to a low roar and I felt back to my old self.

  Almost. Because Gage Shepherd had taken my world and flipped it upside down. He’d moved me in to Bishop Kennard’s house, claiming it was more secure than my own place. I’d been fine with that—my apartment over the hardware store, while nice enough, had never felt like a home. Maybe it was too beige, or maybe I just wasn’t there enough, spending all my time at the restaurant instead. Whatever, leaving that place behind didn’t bother me. What did was the fact that I seemed to be taking up all of Gage’s time. He woke me every morning with my pain pills and the burn creams I had to apply to my hand, stayed with me all day, and even made sure I was comfortable before I went to sleep. He rarely left my side.

  He hadn’t kissed me again, though. Hadn’t wanted to share his bed with me either. Even when I’d hinted that I was afraid, he’d simply told me he was there—that he was guarding me—and I had nothing to worry about. That quick dismissal stung…sometimes more than my hands did.

  “Don’t you have to go to work?” I asked on day four as I waited for him to open the back door at the restaurant. My nerves felt frayed and my temper short. Alder had come to tell me about the damage at my place, but I needed to see it for myself. To know if it was truly something I could fix or…not. I hated the idea of not.

  “I am at work. Hang on to my belt, okay?” Gage inched ahead, a gun at the ready. Not his gun, at least not the one he’d had the last time we’d been in the restaurant. Rock had taken that one before running off. No, this had to be a different gun, though I couldn’t have said what made it different.