Hard Justice

by Lori Foster

  Hand to her mouth, she half cried, half laughed. “You’re nuts.”

  He leaned closer to whisper, “Let’s blame prolonged horniness, okay?” With a light swat on her butt, he added, “Now get a move on before your folks come back to grill me again.”

  “Five minutes,” she promised, and ran up the steps, anxious to return to him.

  Today, she decided, everything would be different.

  * * *

  MARCUS CHECKED HIS WATCH, then stared at his two companions. He grew impatient waiting for them to negotiate the lofty proposal for their participation. “I have to get going soon.” He knew they would reject his first request, but he also assumed they’d give something, even if it was more meager than what he’d asked for. In business, Marcus had always found it beneficial to start high and gradually concede, rather than start out too low.

  “Meeting up with your girlfriend?” Kern Arnold, the oldest of the two brothers, asked as he closed the file he’d been perusing. Kern turned to his brother, York. “What’s her name again?”

  “Fallon,” York supplied with a sly grin. “And she’s a cutie.”

  “She is,” Kern agreed, resting his arms on the table. “Cute, apparently smart and obviously from a good family. She’s a catch, Marcus.”

  Marcus detested these personal questions, but he wanted the contributions Kern and York would give to the literacy fund-raiser. God knew the men could afford it.

  At the MMA fights, they’d wagered twenty grand as if it were nothing, and when Kern lost to his younger brother for the third time in a row, he’d only laughed. Apparently York was on a winning streak, because he’d ribbed Kern mercilessly. Marcus was far from a pauper, but still it boggled his mind to see how easily the two men tossed around money.

  With a benign smile, Marcus corrected the assumptions. “Actually, I’m meeting with Ms. Wade.”

  “Ah, the cutie’s mom?” York asked.

  “Yes.” Marcus nodded to the file. “I’m working with her on the fund-raiser.”

  “Finding a way to edge back in, huh? Clever,” Kern praised. “If the mom approves of you, the daughter will be more inclined.”

  “Actually,” Marcus said, his jaw tensing, “I sincerely wanted to help.”

  York slapped him on the shoulder and laughed. “What about that big bruiser with her?”

  “I told you, he’s her bodyguard.”

  “Uh-huh.” York bobbed his brows at his brother. “Looked to me like he was guarding every inch of her body.”

  “Seemed to be loving his job, too,” Kern added with a chuckle.

  More irate by the moment, Marcus held silent.

  “Who was that other fighter we met? Tomahawk, right?”

  Something in the way York asked that, as if he held a private secret, put Marcus on edge. He replied with a clipped, “Yes.”

  “Tomahawk wants the bodyguard back in the cage. Just think, if he succeeds that’ll leave sweet Fallon yours for the taking.” Kern gave him a steely-eyed stare. “You could swoop in and be the little darling’s protector.”

  “He could score big,” York added, “especially if she’s got real need of protection.”

  Marcus stared at the brothers while fighting the urge to react. Though he recognized there were subtleties afoot that he didn’t entirely understand, he still detested hearing the two men discuss Fallon with so little respect. Never mind that he’d screwed up; he still cared for Fallon—for her whole family—but he also wanted the security that would come from such an alliance. One way or another he’d get her back. When she was his wife, spoiled rich boys like Kern and York wouldn’t dare malign her.

  He forced a smile. “Fallon and I have a history. It’ll work out eventually. Now, about the fund-raiser—”

  “Count us in,” Kern said, sliding the folder back toward him.

  Terrific. More than ready to wrap it up, Marcus segued straight into his sales pitch. “If you’re ready to commit an amount—”

  “The proposal works fine.”

  Incredulous, Marcus slowly withdrew while searching their faces. Wondering if this was more bullshit, he asked, “All of it?”

  “Sure.”

  York added, “From each of us.”

  Stunned, Marcus gathered his thoughts. He couldn’t keep staring like an idiot. “I see.” But to be sure, he opened the file and turned the final figure toward the two men. “You understand—”

  Kern gently closed it again and smiled. “We understand perfectly, and we’re on board.”

  Marcus had no idea what to say. He’d have been happy with half as much from one of them, not the full amount from both. “I...” Shut up and be grateful, he warned himself. “Thank you. This is wonderful.”

  York shrugged. “It’s a tax write-off.”

  “Well, whatever your motives for such generosity, I’m very grateful.” They were right that getting on Mrs. Rothschild Wade’s good side would aid his cause to win back Fallon. Since both ladies cared deeply about the less fortunate, this would be an amazing start.

  As if he’d read Marcus’s thoughts, Kern smiled. “Let me know when and where you’d like us to present the checks.”

  Easy, Marcus thought. Maybe too easy. Yes, the brothers threw around money, but usually with a wager attached. However, he wouldn’t question his good fortune too much.

  He didn’t want them to renege.

  After quickly discussing the arrangements and gaining their signed commitments, Marcus left the bar.

  The brothers were spoiled, but he smiled because for once their money would go to very worthy causes—the fund-raiser...and his own.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JUSTICE LEANED AGAINST a deck post, a beer in hand, and watched while Leese, Catalina, Stack and Vanity chatted with Fallon. It warmed him, seeing his friends become hers.

  She deserved more friends. Good friends—like his.

  “Did you notice she’s as far from the bonfire as she can get?” Armie sounded both curious and puzzled.

  Yeah, he had noticed. Fallon had subtly nudged her lawn chair backward—farther and farther—until she was a good ten feet behind everyone else. Without questioning her, the others had gradually relocated, too.

  They kept her surrounded and distracted and, in their own unique ways, protected—though they might not realize it.

  Miles watched her intently. “Whenever the fire pops, so does she.” Even as he said it, wood crackled and Fallon jumped.

  But she didn’t leave and the pride swelling inside Justice amplified every complicated feeling he had for her until he damn near shook with his need. He’d have to get her alone, and soon. He wanted her—more than he could ever recall wanting anyone or anything.

  Armie and Miles stood with Justice, talking quietly while they took turns grilling hamburgers—and noticing Fallon.

  They were each still looking at her when Justice explained, “She doesn’t advertise it, but she was burned once.”

  Miles jerked around to stare at him, a frown in place. “Bad?”

  Justice couldn’t think about what she’d suffered without a resurgence of rage, empathy and an overwhelming desire to shelter her.

  “Bad,” he quietly confirmed. “Physically and emotionally.” So others wouldn’t overhear, he explained in a low voice what Fallon had gone through. “When I saw the setup for the party, I told her we didn’t have to stay, but she wanted to, even insisted on joining the others around the fire.”

  “She has guts,” Armie remarked with admiration. “I like her.”

  Miles nodded. “Me, too.”

  Justice didn’t mind admitting it. “I more than like her.”

  Brows raised, Miles asked, “Is that allowed?”

  “Because I’m her bodyguard? Probably not.” Ju
stice scrubbed a hand over his face. “For sure, Sahara is going to have a fit.”

  Armie grinned. “She doesn’t know yet?”

  “I told Fallon’s parents today. They finally accepted it—I think.” In fact, Rebecca had seemed to be on his side. Not that he needed their agreement or support, because he’d have gone after Fallon either way. “Tomorrow, first thing, I’ll tell Sahara. I figured I should do it face-to-face.”

  “First Leese and now you,” Miles laughingly complained. “I was thinking of checking out the whole bodyguard gig, too, but the boss lady isn’t going to like her track record with fighters.”

  Justice assumed Miles was joking—hell, he still had a long fight career ahead of him. Sure, he’d taken some serious hits in his last fight, but he’d still won.

  With concern shadowing his features, Armie stared toward the group around the fire. “It doesn’t feel right, letting her do this. Look at her face. She’s almost panicked.”

  True, and her panic put a vise around Justice’s heart. More than anything he wanted to go to her, scoop her up and take her away from the source of her torment.

  But he also wanted more than that.

  “She needs to talk about it. She hasn’t had much opportunity to do that. Even when she told me, I could tell it was new for her. For so long now she’s kept everything bottled up and I think it’s past time she let it out.”

  “It was a secret?” Miles asked.

  “Of sorts,” Justice admitted. “Her folks get upset if she mentions it.” Before either man could get too riled about that, he added, “They’re off-the-charts protective now after losing their other daughter and seeing Fallon so hurt. I’m not sure any of them have really recovered.”

  “It’d be tough,” Armie admitted.

  “Her dad was trying to shield Fallon when he kept all mention of her out of the news. He was dealing with his older daughter’s funeral and with Fallon in the hospital and his wife’s grief...he wanted to spare Fallon from reporters, and in doing that, only a few people even knew she’d been hurt. She couldn’t talk about it with anyone even if she’d wanted to.”

  “Jesus,” Armie whispered. “Her poor folks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good intentions,” Miles noted. “I can’t even imagine what they were suffering.”

  “Pure hell.” Justice stepped away from his friends and loaded up two hamburgers. “Don’t say anything to her yet, but if she gives you an opening—”

  “We’ll be all ears,” Armie promised.

  “Make sure you don’t show her any pity. She’d hate that.”

  “Have you told the others?” Miles asked.

  “No, but feel free. Just be discreet. I want her to feel accepted, not like the center of gossip.” Justice headed off with a plate of food for both of them, drinks in his other hand, and on his way he announced to the collective group, “Food’s ready.”

  That got the desired effect. Everyone headed for the grill, giving Justice a few moments alone with Fallon.

  She’d just stood up when he reached her and, hands full, he bent down and settled his mouth over hers with new possessiveness. Knowing others might witness the kiss didn’t bother Justice.

  He wanted everyone to know about this new facet of their relationship.

  As a couple, Fallon would have all the acceptance, backup and loyalty that he had from his friends. She deserved that, and more.

  At first she was stiff with surprise, but she quickly melted against him, her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck.

  Feeling her small, warm body pressed to his, Justice almost dropped the food, then he caught himself and lifted away. “Hi.”

  Still leaning against him, her eyes heavy, she smiled. “Hi.”

  “I missed you.” He kissed her again, briefly this time, and then handed her the drinks.

  She looked at them a moment before catching up. From the light of the bonfire, Justice watched the blush tinge her cheeks. She took the beers from him.

  “If you don’t mind sitting here, I’ll join you.”

  “It’s fine.”

  No, it wasn’t. Now that he’d reminded her of the fire, the wariness came back into her gaze. “We don’t have to stay.”

  “I want to.” She sat down in her lawn chair and took the plate from him so he could pull a chair closer to her. “Could I ask you something, Justice?”

  He settled himself beside her. “You can ask me anything.”

  She surprised him by reaching over and stroking a hand over his smoothly shaven jaw. “Why did you change so much?”

  “Change?”

  Her smile was gentle and curious. “The haircut, the close shave, the shirt?”

  “Well now, honey, I wasn’t just wooing you, was I?” He picked up a loaded burger. “Had to win over your folks, too.”

  “So you did it for them?”

  “For you.” He took a big bite while watching her, encouraging her to do the same.

  She nibbled—and waited for an explanation.

  After he’d swallowed, Justice opened a beer for each of them. “Just one for me—I’ll be driving, and only one for you ’cuz now I know you can’t hold your liquor.” He leaned closer to whisper, “And I want you clearheaded for later.”

  Immediately diverted, she whispered, “Later?”

  “When I plan to kiss you head to toes.”

  She flushed...with interest. Swallowing, she looked around to ensure no one had overheard, then jumped back to her original question which, honestly, Justice had hoped to avoid.

  “So you changed everything—”

  “Not everything. Not how much I want you. Not who I am.” He scratched his chin. “I just figured it might be easier for your folks to swallow the idea of you and me together if they knew I wasn’t totally irredeemable. I mean, a shave and haircut isn’t much, but it shows compromise, right?”

  “I don’t want you to change at all.”

  He smiled, inside and out. “No?”

  “Everything about you is appealing. The scruff you wore before, and the way you’re shaved now. The messy fauxhawk and the shorter hair. Whatever you wear—” she slanted him a look “—or don’t wear, I already like you.” She took a shaky breath, her attention on her burger. “I just thought you should know that.”

  The smile spread into a satisfied grin. Damn, but she pleased him. “So if I don’t shave every day, or my hair gets shaggy again, you won’t mind?”

  There was a load of emotion in her eyes when she looked up at him. She started to say something—

  And others joined them.

  Justice assumed Miles and Armie had filled them in on Fallon’s background, but it didn’t show. They didn’t treat her any differently. But he noticed that a few of the women mentioned their own backgrounds, the difficulties they’d faced—and how they’d gotten beyond them.

  Armie, too, talked about his dad, a subject that had once been very taboo but seemed to come easier to him these days now that he was a father, too. All in all, they created an atmosphere of camaraderie that felt both safe and accepting.

  Fallon listened to each person with genuine concern and caring. She didn’t shy away from their confessions, but she also didn’t get too nosy with her questions.

  Justice wasn’t disappointed that Fallon hadn’t yet chimed in; she needed time, he understood that.

  But tonight, he felt, was a good start.

  Tomahawk showed up an hour or so later, along with a few of the newer fighters. Everyone who joined them brought along beer or snacks and soon everyone was mellow from food, drink and friendship.

  A million stars hung in the dark sky. A gentle breeze teased the air. All around them crickets sang.

  And Justice was so horny, he could barely breathe.


  It was nearing midnight when he decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

  The bonfire had died down and no one seemed interested in keeping it blazing. Some people had already left with the designated drivers, and the remaining couples were cuddled up together, talking quietly. Occasionally a soft laugh filled the air.

  Justice lifted Fallon into his lap and nuzzled her neck with damp kisses. “You ready to go?”

  The question, along with the intimate familiarity, left her muddled. “I... That is...”

  Deliberately, he’d put his mouth near her burn scars. He needed her to know that he found every inch of her sexy.

  Cupping a hand to her cheek, he encouraged, “Say yes.”

  She let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Yes.”

  Justice had to grin. Her reply had sounded like an answer to a lot more than what he’d asked. “I have a few things to say, but it’ll wait until we’re alone in the car.”

  Their goodbyes to the others took them a few minutes more. As usual, all the guys had to hug her, most of the ladies, too. This time, though, Fallon seemed more at ease with it.

  Soon as that was done, she eased close to his side again. He put an arm around her shoulders and together they walked to the side yard.

  It was as soon as they rounded the house to the front that Justice saw the dark Corvette parked on the street.

  The same car that had tailed them days before.

  After taking quick inventory of the other vehicles and assigning each to the people he knew, he jerked around to stare at the backyard—and realized Tom had arrived last. So was it his car?

  Was it Tom who’d been following them? Was he possibly the one who’d...

  But why? What was his end game?

  Justice remembered that Tom was with Fallon when she fell—or was pushed—and his fury expanded.

  “Justice?” Fallon peered up at him, her skin pale in the wash of moonlight, her eyes huge and luminous. “Is something wrong?”

  The moment she spoke, he realized that he’d tightened his hold on her. Immediately, he let up, saying, “Everything’s fine.” He needed to corral his rioting thoughts and temper his automatic anger until he could talk with Tom.