Hard Justice

by Lori Foster

  “Really,” Fallon said, a little irate. “Was that necessary? I’m here because I want to visit with people.”

  “Not those people,” he said, and he downed his beer in one long impressive swallow.

  Digging in, Fallon insisted, “Any people I choose,” and she, too, tipped up her beer.

  Then almost gagged.

  She swallowed the big gulp rather than spit it back into the glass, then stuck her tongue out. “Gak. That’s awful.”

  Justice looked at her, then grinned. “Did that quench your thirst?”

  Her face still scrunched, Fallon hunted through her purse for a mint. Unfortunately she didn’t have any.

  Justice pushed the glass toward her. “Take another sip. It’ll help.”

  “I’ll vomit.”

  He chuckled. “Nah, you won’t. Trust me.”

  She did want to learn, so she held her nose and sipped. It wasn’t quite as bad since she’d taken such a small taste.

  Wearing a lopsided smile, Justice asked, “Better?”

  She shook her head, continued to hold her nose, and drank again. This time, Justice put a finger at the bottom of the glass and held it there, encouraging her to keep drinking.

  When she’d finished it, she burped, covered her mouth and blushed.

  He laughed. “There you go.” He held up two fingers, and a minute later a very pretty waitress carried over two more beers.

  Fallon eyed them with disgust, until it dawned on her that Justice had just given the woman money. “I need to pay for the drinks.”

  “Don’t sweat it.”

  She snickered. “You said the same thing to my mom.”

  “Did I?” He settled back and watched her.

  “No one, ever, has said anything like that to her. It cracked me up.”

  His expression warmed. “You already feelin’ that beer?”

  “No.” She did feel sleepy though. Holding her nose once more, she again drank, but this time she sat back so Justice couldn’t reach her drink. “At least it’s cold, huh?”

  For such a big guy, he looked awfully gentle as he smiled at her. “So what’s the plan? Can you enjoy yourself without hitting on a thug?”

  “Thug?” she asked. “Who?”

  “Either one of those yahoos at the bar. That first kid was looking for trouble, and the other guy lives trouble.”

  “So neither one was safe?”

  Idly turning the beer, he surveyed her, then shook his head. “Looking like you do, not sure anyone in here is safe. At least, not to daddy’s standards.”

  Making air quotes with her fingers, Fallon mimicked his voice and said, “Daddy’s standards.” She started laughing and couldn’t stop. “That’s so funny.”

  “You think so?”

  When she nodded, her vision swam, so she held her head. “Yes. Dad really is outrageous.”

  “How come? I mean, what’s he so worried about?”

  She clammed up, unwilling to give too much away. “We’ve only lived here a short while—” like a year “—and he’s unfamiliar with the area.”

  Justice pushed her drink toward her again.

  She dutifully sipped before looking around. “People are dancing. I want to dance.”

  Wary, Justice straightened and surveyed the gyrating bodies on the floor. “I don’t know...”

  But she’d already stood. She took one last drink of her nasty beer, then started for the floor.

  Justice caught her hand.

  Wow, another revelation. For such a big man he had a very gentle hold.

  He released her. “Stay where I can see you.”

  With a sharp salute, she said, “Yes, sir.”

  She loved to dance but rarely had the opportunity, and never in a place like this. Here, in the boisterous crowd, no one would pay any attention to her.

  That is, no one except Justice, because he never took his gaze off her.

  CHAPTER TWO

  SHE’D DRUNK ONLY two and a half beers, but Justice had a feeling that was two beers too many for little Fallon Wade.

  “Dance with me,” she’d asked early on.

  “I don’t dance,” he’d lied the first time.

  Half an hour later, she’d asked again. “Dance with me.”

  “Not in my job description.” He’d felt like a prick after saying it, but hoped it’d keep her from asking.

  It didn’t.

  “No one else is dancing with me,” she complained.

  A few guys had tried to sidle up to her.

  Justice had stared hard enough to send them all packing. In MMA, he’d learned the value of a really confident, mean, nearly tactile stare. There were times he’d won a fight before it ever started, just with his stare-down.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just enjoy yourself.”

  “I feel foolish.”

  “You shouldn’t.” A woman like Fallon stood out from the others, but in a good way. “Trust me, lots of guys are looking.”

  “Really?” She glanced around. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

  “Gospel truth.” He crossed his heart.

  Laughing, she rejoined the dancers.

  Admittedly, Fallon looked a little lonely. All around her, people brushed against once another but never came within two feet of her.

  Several times, the urge to join her burned in his blood.

  He couldn’t help thinking of her moving against him, the scent of her skin and how soft she’d feel. Twice he’d even gotten to his feet. But he held back.

  The things he imagined with her were already taboo enough; he wouldn’t cross the line in deed, as well.

  So instead he kept his vigil—and tortured himself with carnal fantasies inspired by the rhythmic roll of her hips and the sway of her torso.

  Repeatedly, Fallon returned to the booth to sip on her beer. Halfway through the third, she pronounced her words too precisely, a deep flush stained her cheeks, and her dark eyes had that glassy look. Hoping to discourage her, Justice scooted the remainder of the drink to the other side of the table.

  It was nearing midnight when some random dude, no doubt guided by liquid courage, caught her in his sights.

  Justice read the intent in his gaze, but Fallon, still dancing, remained oblivious.

  When the guy elbowed one of his buddies, then pointed her out, his friends started egging him on.

  Justice couldn’t really blame the guy for trying.

  The prim clothes and overprotective upbringing hadn’t stifled Fallon’s sensuality. Nope, that came out loud and clear in the way she moved.

  The guy had almost reached her when Justice stepped into his path. “Don’t,” he growled into the idiot’s startled face, and the guy literally fled the bar.

  Fallon wanted to dance, so by God, she’d get to dance—without getting hassled.

  At one o’clock, the crowd finally thinned. Justice took her purse from the seat, grabbed the umbrella and walked out to the dance floor to tell her it was time to go.

  She tried to tempt him into dancing.

  It wasn’t easy, but he held firm. “We need to get going.”

  She fashioned a very sexy pout. “Why?”

  “It’s late, the storm let up and you’re drunk.”

  She gave it some thought, then nodded. “I think you might be right.”

  “So you know you’re plastered?”

  “No, I meant that the rain has stopped.” She grinned at him. “I think I’ve learned to like beer.”

  She still held her nose every time she drank, so no, she definitely didn’t like it. “If you say so.”

  “Thank you for your patience.”

  “It’s what
I’m paid for.” He handed her purse to her, waited while she got the strap up and over her shoulder, which took her three tries, then led her out into the dark night.

  Not a single star showed. So much humidity hung in the air that halos formed around each streetlamp. There were a lot less people outside now, and they were more subdued than the earlier crowd, talking low in small groups.

  The drone of rain dripping from every surface lent a light music to the night.

  Though they no longer shared an umbrella, Fallon stayed very close to him, so he felt it when she shivered.

  He was so warm, particularly because of her nearness, that he hadn’t even thought about her getting chilled. He glanced down at her and realized she’d gotten dewy with all her dancing in the heated bar. In comparison, the temps outside were cool.

  He paused to slip off his flannel shirt then carefully draped it around her shoulders. “Better?”

  Surprise had her blinking before she gave him a beautiful smile. “Yes, thank you.” Then with concern, she asked, “You’re not cold?”

  Not even close. Hell, seeing the pleasure on her face sent his temp up a few more notches. “I’m fine.”

  She looked up at him, maybe gauging his sincerity, then put her palm against his left biceps. “You’re actually warm,” she whispered with awe.

  Yeah, much more of that and he’d combust.

  To get her moving and distract his misplaced lust, Justice put his arm around her and steered her forward.

  They’d almost reached the car when three bodies slipped out of the shadows. Big, muscular—definitely not slouches. Well, hell.

  “Got a cigarette?” the one in front asked.

  “Don’t smoke.” Justice took a step in front of Fallon, planning to protect her as they proceeded, but the other two blocked him. With his patience strained, he loosened his stance. “You don’t want to do this.”

  Ignoring that warning, the lead man said, “I’ll take her purse.”

  “No,” Justice replied evenly, “you won’t. And if you try, you’re gonna get hurt...bad.”

  The man to his right drew a knife. Justice heard Fallon’s gasp, and it infuriated him. She stayed behind him, not even peeking around. Odds were stuff like this never happened in her world—because she didn’t go to bars, didn’t drink...didn’t dance, visit friends or apparently have fun.

  Pissed that her night out might end in violence, he growled, “Put that away before I stick it in your fucking ear.”

  Cowering behind him, Fallon’s trembling increased.

  The most brazen one laughed. “You’re scaring her, dude. Just hand it over and we can all get on our way.”

  Fuck it. “You’re right.” He pivoted to the side, as if to face Fallon, but as she started to give him her purse, he kicked out fast, catching the bastard in the face with his heel. The crunch of cartilage satisfied Justice. Even in his sneakers, his kick had likely done more than break the guy’s nose, given the way he dropped.

  The knife wielder slashed out. With far faster reflexes, Justice ducked back and at the same time grabbed his wrist. With little effort, he broke it, then took the knife from his limp hand.

  Remembering Justice’s threat, the second attacker turned and, with his damaged arm held close, ran away as fast as he could.

  The third man, now more than a little incredulous, eyed his buddy on the ground, then his fleeing friend.

  “What do you think?” Justice said. “Make up your mind before I take the decision away from you.”

  Lifting his hands in submission, the man slowly stepped away until he disappeared back into the shadows.

  “Oh, my God,” Fallon whispered.

  What he’d like to do, Justice realized, was walk away from the mess. But he was on official business with Body Armor, so he had to call it in.

  Rule of the agency: don’t dick with the law unless given prior permission. For sure Sahara would want him to follow the rules tonight, with a client like Fallon.

  When he turned to her, he saw Fallon’s eyes were enormous and her lips parted.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She closed her mouth and gulped. “You pulverized them.”

  She sounded so surprised, a smile tried to steal away Justice’s black mood. “Not even close, but it’s hard to do when the pricks run off.”

  “You terrified them.” She looked at where the first guy still sprawled on the ground, out for the count. “I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.”

  “Because you haven’t watched professional MMA.” In comparison to the best fighters, he was fucking slow.

  “So impressive. Like...pow!” A little on the tipsy side, she tried to mimic his kick, and almost fell to her nicely rounded butt.

  “Easy,” Justice said, catching her under the arms and hauling her upright. Knowing he needed to get her in the car before anything else happened, he said, “Come on,” and led the way.

  As they passed the downed man, she gawked and asked, “Is he dead?”

  “Don’t be so bloodthirsty. He’s just knocked out.” At least, Justice hoped that was true. He got Fallon seated, tucked the flannel around her, then hit the automatic lock. “Don’t open this for anyone but me.”

  As he started to close the door, she said, “Wait! What are you doing?”

  “Calling the cops. I’ll be right here, but I have to let them know.”

  “Are you sure?” She fretted with the strap of her purse. “I mean, Dad will have a conniption. If you thought he was overprotective before, this will seal my fate.”

  “You’re twenty-four,” Justice pointed out. “You’re a grown woman and can do as you please.” Or was she worried about losing daddy’s money? She hadn’t seemed that mercenary, but truth be told, he still didn’t know shit about her, except that she looked hot as hell dancing and couldn’t hold her beer.

  “It’s not that easy.” She looked away. “But they...well, they’ve been through a lot and I’m all they have left.”

  The sincerity in her tone did him in. Justice glanced back at the guy he’d kicked. The fool was finally coming to. He staggered to his feet, likely with a broken jaw, but given how quickly he sneaked off, he’d live. The area was quiet; no one else was paying any attention.

  Shit, he hated making decisions like this. Sometimes the “right thing to do” wasn’t so clear-cut.

  “Please, Justice?”

  Now, how was he supposed to refuse her when she looked up at him like that?

  Decision made, Justice nodded. “All right, fine. Get your seat belt on.” Once they were on the road, they’d have a nice long talk about expectations. He’d explain his responsibilities and how he had to fulfill them not only for her father, as the client, but for the agency that employed him.

  He drove for five minutes, getting his thoughts in order, deciding what he’d say and tamping down the adrenaline rush from kicking a little ass. He missed competing. Not that the stupid punks had offered any real challenge. Street thugs never did. Whenever possible, Justice avoided them.

  But competition...even when he’d lost, he’d loved the sport. ’Course, winning was so much sweeter.

  Rather than dwell on opportunities lost, he cleared his throat and glanced at Fallon, his lecture mentally prepared.

  She was fast asleep. Deep, even breaths lifted her breasts. Her lips were slightly parted, her hands limp at her sides, her head lolling back against the seat.

  Justice should have been disgruntled with her.

  Instead, he spent the rest of the drive to her house with a stupid smile on his face.

  * * *

  “WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD.”

  From far away, Fallon heard the words. Too tired to care, she snuggled into her seat and sighed.

  “Fallon, c’mon, girl. Up
and at ’em.”

  That gruff voice teased her senses. She pulled the blanket up higher and frowned, trying to refuse.

  Rough fingers stroked her cheek, and she heard, “Damn, you are so soft.”

  Well, that was nice. In fact, this might be the nicest dream she’d ever had.

  A second later, a hard hand shook her shoulder. “Knock off the sappy smile and wake up. Lights are coming on inside and I expect your dad to charge out here any minute.”

  Her dad? Fallon lifted her lashes—and found Justice staring into her face. She blinked to bring him into focus.

  “Hello,” he said with a lopsided grin. “You with me, Fallon?”

  “Oh.” She sat up, felt her head swim and closed her eyes again. “Yes. Sorry.”

  She heard his car door open and close again, then hers opened. “Let’s go.” He unhooked her seat belt for her and practically lifted her out.

  More drunk than she’d realized, Fallon fell against him, and the security lights flashed on around them.

  Justice groaned. “Now we’re in for it.”

  “What in the world do you think you’re doing?”

  Shielding her eyes from the lights, Fallon straightened away from Justice, but kept a hand on his arm for necessary support. “Dad?”

  Wrapped in his housecoat and wearing slippers, her father did indeed charge. The clothes, or lack thereof, and disheveled hair didn’t diminish his stately presence. With haughty disgruntlement, he looked her over, then turned to glare at Justice with concentrated disapproval.

  “You should know,” Justice said fast, “I was all kinds of avuncular. But she drank a little too much and—”

  Fallon gasped. “You big tattletale! I wasn’t going to tell him I drank!”

  With a roll of his eyes, Justice said, “It’s not something you could have hidden from him when you can’t even stand up straight.”

  “I can stand.” She attempted to and teetered to the left. Both Justice and her father reached out. She caught her balance, lifted her chin in triumph...and slowly tipped over.

  Justice got to her first, holding her steady. “Just hush now and let me explain.”