Justice (The Galilee Falls Trilogy)

by Jennifer Harlow

  “Were you harassing her?” Justin asks Harry. “I know what people are saying, but she—”

  “Justin, we were just talking! Calm down!” I say. “Can we just get the hell out of here, please?” I pull Justin away before he makes things worse. Harry watches with a small scowl as we pass. I can’t leave like this. I turn back. “Thank you.”

  “For what, Jo?” Harry asks, no longer hiding his anger.

  “Trying.”

  I walk away.

  ***

  Only about twenty people are invited back to the mansion for the reception. The mourners stand around with their plates of food and stories. Since I’ve never been good at gatherings, big or small, even in the best of circumstances, I help Dobbs with the serving and clean-up. Keeping busy has gotten me this far. When I have time to think I’ll end up going crazy in a church.

  About an hour into the reception, I notice Justin has vanished. The last time I saw him he was talking to one of the eulogizers, but she says he excused himself. I check the whole house, but he’s nowhere. Even the guards have lost track of him. There’s only one other place he could be.

  He sits alone on the beach facing the ocean, barely moving. I tell Geoff to hang back by the stairs and walk over to him. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t look at me even when I sit next to him. There are two bottles of Jack Daniels in the sand, one almost empty. In all our time, I’ve barely seen him finish a glass, let alone a whole bottle.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey.” He picks up the bottle and finishes it off, tossing the empty glass into the surf.

  “Where’s Bryan?”

  “I’m the boss. I told him if he followed me down here, I’d fire him. He believed me. You gonna give me shit for it?”

  “Considering I got a lecture for making Geoff wait inside instead of outside when I was on the patio,” I pause and pretend to think hard about it, “um, yes. Yes, I am.” I punch his arm. “What are you thinking?”

  “Ow. Don’t hit the bereaved. I just…had to get away from everyone and their good intentions.”

  “Just you and Jack Daniels, huh?”

  “You’re going to lecture me on drinking? How many times have I held your hair while you puked?”

  “Countless. And I’m not going to lecture you.”

  He opens the second bottle. “Good.” He takes a swig and holds it out to me. “Want some?”

  “No, thanks.”

  “The woman who drank my entire frat under the table is abstaining?”

  “Yep. It makes me…horrible. But as an authority on the subject, I will tell you that if you take one more sip, I will probably have to take you to the hospital for alcohol poisoning where the entire staff will fawn over you and smother you with love. Is that what you really want, lots and lots of love from hot nurses?”

  He holds out his arms and touches his nose with each pointer finger. “I can recite the alphabet backwards too, Detective.” He picks up the bottle again and drinks. “I’m barely buzzed. Me and my freak metabolism. Can’t even drink myself into unconsciousness. I sure as hell am going to try though.”

  We just sit and watch the ocean crash for a minute while he chugs the whiskey. I can practically feel the anguish coming off his body. It seeps into me like an itch I can never scratch. “Do you remember that summer before you went to college? We tried to learn to surf?”

  He smiles after another swig. “Aunt Lucy hired that, I don’t know what the hell he was, a stoner, hippie Martian or something. What did he want us to call him?”

  “Buddha Moon, but we just called him B.M.”

  “Right,” Justin chuckles, “and before we could go into the ocean we had to thank mother Gaia and father Poseidon for creating the waves we were about to disturb.”

  “Well, you did something to piss off Poseidon because he kicked your ass. I don’t think you ever were upright on that board.”

  “I guess I’m not a water person.”

  “Understatement of the damn year.” I tick his shoulder with mine.

  “What? Like you did much better. At least I didn’t laugh my ass off every time you fell like my best friend did.”

  “I had just never seen you fail at anything. I was so overjoyed to find you were actually human.”

  “That’s up for debate,” he mutters as he swigs. We’re silent for a few seconds, all the mirth gone again. I wait for him to speak. “I was going to teach Daisy to swim this summer. It was to be my first official act as her step-father. I even read a book on the correct approach.”

  My heart clenches. “She would have loved that. She adored you.”

  He shakes his head. “At first, I was so scared around her. What did I know about four-year-old girls? That lasted all of a second. It was like I looked at her and I knew. With both of them, I guess.”

  “Knew what?”

  “That they were for me. That I was supposed to love them. To care for them. To be there for them. That I’d lay down my life for them. Same thing happened when I saw you.” He pauses and chokes back a sob. “And I failed. I failed. Oh, fuck!” He leaps up, and then almost falls back down. “I have to get out of here,” he says as he stumbles away.

  “Justin, where are you going?” I ask as I follow.

  The alcohol is working now as he can barely walk. “I—I don’t know. Not here. I can’t breathe here.”

  “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”

  “No! I need to be alone. Why do you even want to? You should stay away from me. I’m useless. It’s never enough. All I do and it’s never enough.” He’s talking to himself now. My best friend is drunk for the first time in his life. “Why do it? What’s the point?”

  I grab him by the arms. It’s worked on me. “Justin, stop it!”

  His face crumbles until he’s near tears. “I can’t go back up there.”

  I put his arm around my shoulder to help him walk. “You don’t have to.”

  We go up the stairs and sneak him around the side of the house to the garage. Getting upstairs for my purse and car keys is harder. Five people stop me to ask after Justin. The one person I tell the truth to is Lucy, who promises to cover for us. Justin is nursing the bottle by the Cobra convertible when I get back. Geoff steps in behind me.

  “No! Not him!” Justin shouts. “He can’t come!”

  “Sir—”

  “Just follow behind us,” I whisper.

  I get into the driver’s seat and Justin plops into the passenger’s. “I can keep you safe,” he mutters. “I saved you once, I can do it again.”

  “I know you can.” As can the snub-nose .38 in my purse, but I’m not telling them that.

  “He wouldn’t dare come after me,” Justin mumbles. “I want him to, so he won’t. Coward.”

  I start the car, the Cobra’s engine roaring then purring like a lion. We peel out and I drive down the coast. Justin gazes out at the ocean in silence, holding the bottle to his chest when he isn’t drinking it. I know him well enough to not engage in conversation right now. When he wants to talk, he will. Until then, I enjoy the wind blowing through my hair and the forward momentum. It’s freeing. There’s no destination. Just the ocean, setting sun, and us. I don’t think about anything but the road in front of us. Not Harry. Not Rebecca. Not even Justin. My body settles, and for the first time in days I’m not on edge. Last time I felt this way was that last night at Harry’s, just laying in his bed in my nook and listening to him breathe. I push the image away.

  I don’t stop for an hour and wouldn’t except we need gas. I get us some coffee too. Justin is slumped against the door snoozing when I return. He passed out about ten minutes into the drive, much to my relief. I wave at the black BMW that’s been tailing us. Hope they’re enjoying the ride too. When I shut the door, Justin stirs and mumbles, “Rebecca.” I have the strongest urge to run my hand through his blonde hair and kiss his forehead like Pop used to with me. I restrain myself and start the car.

  Halfway back Justin wakes, opting for
more booze instead of cold coffee. “Where are we?”

  “Almost home.”

  “No. It’s a fucking crypt.”

  “Justin, we’ve been driving for almost two hours. Where—”

  “The Falls. I dreamt she was at The Falls.”

  It’s almost full dark by the time we reach the park. I pull into the parking lot deep in the forest. I’m not big on nature, so I’ve only been here a few times on school field trips and with the occasional boyfriend. There’s no one around, because the park is closed now, but that’s not stopping me now. I park the car right at the edge of the tree line and Justin jumps out, sort of falling against the door. He is so drunk. My attention swings to the car coming into view. The BMW rolls up, blinding me with its headlights. When I turn back, Justin’s gone. Crap.

  “Justin!” I shout. As the guards climb out of their car, I ask, “Did you see which way he went?”

  “No, ma’am,” Bryan answers.

  “Shit. Do you have a flashlight?” Geoff reaches into the glove compartment and tosses one to me. “Okay, stay here.”

  “Ma’am, I don’t think—” Geoff says.

  “Just stay here. That’s an order.” I grab my purse and run down the path, which I really hope he took. I’m in a dress, high heeled boots, and my Kevlar coat, so not proper hiking attire. The path is fairly easy to follow, but the trees scratching in the wind and haunting hoot of an owl ratchets up the fear factor. I kind of wish I had my guards with me to protect me from raccoons or whatever, but they’ll just aggravate the situation. I call out for Justin twice. No answer.

  As the roar of The Falls gets closer, I begin to find clothes along the path. One shoe, then another. A sock hangs on a branch with its mate a few paces away. Coat, tie, and shirt in succession as I continue on. The pants appear right at the edge of the woods where the trees open onto a small clearing that overlooks the waterfall. It’s sixty yards away with a large lagoon blocked off by railings and “No Swimming” signs. Hanging from one of them is Justin’s underwear. Oh, boy.

  I approach the railing and in the distance see a white silhouette gliding back and forth in the black lagoon toward the side of the fall. There’s a reason it’s cordoned off. Rocks and trees tend to fall from the cliffs above. “Justin!” I shout. “Get out of there!” He either can’t hear or just won’t listen. I scream again with the same result. “Justin, I am not coming in there after you! You have thirty seconds before I call in the goons and have them drag your naked butt out of there! Then I’ll tell everyone about it! Get out!”

  That captures his attention. He turns around and begins swimming toward me. “Come swimming with me, Jo,” he pleads. He stops half-way to the shore. “It feels nice.”

  “Hell, no. Come on, it’s not safe in there.”

  “I am invincible!” he shouts.

  “You are drunk! Please get out of there before you drown!”

  “You know, that might actually kill me.”

  “Duh!” I snatch his briefs off the sign, hanging them by my index finger. “Ten seconds before I call Geoff and Bryan. Nine, eight, seven…”

  He swims as fast as he can back, reaching the shore at two. As he climbs out I turn my back and hold out his underwear behind me. Twenty years and I’ve never seen him naked and vice versa. In a towel, yes. Him shirtless, lots. Never naked. He takes the underpants, putting them on, I hope. “And you’re supposed to be the fun one,” he says.

  I wait three seconds then turn around. The sight before me takes my breath away. I’d forgotten how perfect he is. Not an ounce of fat on his lean body. Sculpted pecs, six pack, toned arms and legs. He slicks back his wet hair, showing me that body. I know I’m staring, so I look down and hand him his pants and shirt. “Here.”

  He attempts to put on the pants, but can’t stay steady. I lean down just inches from that bulge, helping him with both legs and pulling the pants up. I can feel him watching me and become self-conscious. I don’t dare look up. As I button the pants, my fingers accidently—I swear—brush up against his cold stomach. I can see the goose pimples rise and fall with every one of his deep breaths. Too much. This is too much. This is too intimate. This is wrong. I try to step away, but he takes my hands in his. “Jo.”

  I don’t know what to think. What to do. I’m spent. I can’t take another blow. This is a cage with no way out. There is no win here, and I know it. Any declaration of love would be a reaction to a loss he can’t cope with. Maybe a few months ago, in another life, this would be good enough. All I know is that it’s not good enough right now. For either of us. I just…

  My best friend lifts my chin up and lowers his mouth onto mine. It’s tentative and soft, lasting only a moment. He opens his eyes to gage my reaction, but a million emotions and thoughts are racing around my mind. Shock. Happiness. Confusion. And a whole lot of lust. His mouth finds mine again, this time with no hesitation or care. I kiss back with the same urgency. Our tongues dance and tease as he pulls me into his wet, hard body. I cling to his bare back, digging my fingers in. I’m intoxicated by him. His taste. His smell. It’s exactly how I’d imagined it. Better.

  He lowers us onto the ground, him pinning me as if I’ll escape. Tiny rocks poke into me, but I try to ignore them. We kiss and caress, grasping at each other as if we’ll be torn apart. He squeezes my breasts, and I run my hand through his hair. His hand moves under my skirt and up my thigh. I part my legs for him and almost die from pleasure as his fingers thrust inside me. And it’s that beautiful agony that brings me crashing back to earth. What the hell am I doing?

  I’ve wanted this more than anything almost since I met him, so why do I have a rock in the pit of my stomach right now? This is wrong. I know it’s wrong. He’s drunk. He just lost the love of his life. He’s beyond vulnerable. I want him to want me, not a distraction. I’m not this person. This will change everything. He’ll wake up tomorrow, hating himself and probably me. Harry…

  No. I will not do this.

  Without hesitation, I push his hand away and break the kiss. “No. Stop.” I pull away, sitting up and pulling my jacket tight for protection.

  “What’s the matter?” my friend asks.

  “We can’t do this. You’re drunk. You’re mourning. It’s wrong.”

  He touches my shoulder. “I want to, Jo.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…I want to make you happy. Because you’re in love with me.”

  Those words slap me in the face. I leap up, suddenly disgusted with both of us. “So you’re finally drunk and sad enough to give me a pity fuck?”

  He stands up. “What? No, of course not! You just looked so beautiful, and I wanted to…I don’t know.” His shoulders slump and he looks away, completely lost. “I love you, Jo.”

  “But not in that way,” I finish for him. “And you never can, can you? Never.”

  As the words escape my mouth, I know it’s true. More important, I can accept it. He can never give me what I want. He’ll never look at me with lust or deep abiding love like he did her. He’ll never ache for me. I’ll just always be that girl on the bridge he needs to fix. All those years. Over half of my life waiting for something that can never be. Letting no other man in just in case he decided to love me back. I’m pathetic.

  He steps toward me. “Jo.”

  I leap away. “Don’t. I can’t…” I turn around before he can see me cry. I run away as fast as I can, sobs escaping as I do.

  Geoff and Bryan rush over to me when I come into view. “Ma’am?” Geoff asks.

  “Um,” I sniffle, “he’s at the end of the path.” I keep walking toward the Cobra, fumbling for the keys. “Can you, um, go get him? I’m afraid he might hurt himself.” I struggle to unlock the door. “Just, um, take him back to the house when he’s ready.”

  “Ma’am,” Bryan says as I slam the door shut. “What about—”

  I start the car, the engine drowning out his voice. I speed away before either can stop me. I almost hit three other cars as I dodge an
d weave through traffic. My mind has stopped functioning, but instinctively I know where to go. It’s the only place I want to go. Hell, where I need to go.

  Harry opens the door in his pajamas, bewildered by the sight of me. I’m sure I’m covered in dirt and leaves, so God knows what he’s thinking. “Jo?”

  “You were right,” I say for possibly the first time ever.

  “Jo, what—”

  “Everything you said about me is right. I’m fucked up. I am so fucked up I don’t know why anyone would want me. Mom didn’t. Justin sure as hell doesn’t. So why would anyone, let alone someone as wonderful as you? Because you are. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. And if I believe or…” I say, my voice cracking, “hope that someone as remarkable as you wants me, and it doesn’t happen, I’m not sure I could live with that. There is a huge part of me that doesn’t believe I deserve even the hope. I’m scared to hell of even the possibility because if everything does turn up roses, I’m not sure I’d know what to do with myself. All I know is pain and—and struggle. It drives me, makes me strong. It’ll always be a part of me.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” he asks calmly.

  “Because…you deserve to know this. Because I miss you. Because I really need a hug, and you’re the only person I want to hug me. Because, in spite of everything, I think this thing can go somewhere, be real, and I really want it to. Because you’re worth hoping for. I trust you. And I want you. I need you. No one else. I’m tired of living in a dream, especially when you’ve shown me reality can be a hell of a lot better. I only hope it’s not too late.”

  We stand at an impasse, moments growing heavier with the uncertainty as he decides our fate. Luckily, only about three pass before he says, “Come in.”

  My whole body loses four hundred pounds with those words. I step in and he shuts the door. The moment it closes I fall into his arms. He hugs me as tight as I do him, and for the first time in days I feel… right. My hot tears soak his shoulder as I weep. He picks me up and carries me into his bedroom, gently setting me on the bed before tucking himself in beside me. He doesn’t say a word. He envelops me until I run out of tears. Welcome to reality, Jo.