Justice Black: The Game Never Ends

by Gartia Bansah

chapter

  SIXTY-ONE

  The forecast said a thunderstorm probably would happen tonight. Townspeople too familiar with the violent storms this time of year wisely stocked up and battened down for the night. Kaitlyn figured some storms weren’t good, such as the one with her grandmom. They’d argued for nearly an hour.

  Laila eased her scolding after Kaitlyn understood what she meant.

  “Gianna, you’ve wallowed in that pity junk long enough; stop it now. The story is working out. You’re doing fine.”

  “You’re right, Grandmom. I should thank Dr. Black.”

  After Gwen first ran the story, some of their clients refused to return. They called her a terrorist. Now since her first segment had run, she and Wil had had to bring in more staff and extend working hours for the increase in clients.

  “Now you get out of here, Gianna, and go where you belong. Don’t even think of going to Barrett’s for the night. Genevieve is there, and Aurora said not to come to her place either.” Laila shoved her out the door and locked it behind her.

  “This doesn’t help me at all, Grandmom. You know that,” she shouted at the locked door.

  Laila laughed from the other side. “Then get therapy. Go see Dr. Eastermann. Get away from the door before you get arrested.”

  The thunder frightened her. It was silly, but sometimes being in the rain brought back memories of being caught in the shower with Ed. In a panic, she rushed downstairs to Justice.

  Justice heard the shouting and opened the door. Kaitlyn looked miserable. He stepped aside, allowing her room to enter if she chose. Neither said a word. Kaitlyn didn’t look at him. Instead she tightly hugged herself. Justice offered his little finger. She took it, and he slowly pulled her across the threshold, into his arms, and tenderly rocked her. She placed her folded arms between them and leaned her head on his chest. Then her tears came.

  He wiped her face. He missed her.

  “You’re right Justice. I need to let the dead go, and I’m not talking about the car.” The resurgence of Ed and with Gwen digging into her past meant she had to let go of those things that occasionally haunted her, and she was ready.

  “I know.” Justice lifted her up into his arms, carried her to the couch, and held her until she calmed.

  “Tobiah?”

  “Yes.”

  “If this were your last day on Earth, what would you want to do?”

  He lifted her chin.

  “Duchess, nothing is going to happen to you. I don’t want to hear you talk like that again.” He released a deep sigh. Every day he opened his eyes could be his last day. He lived one sunrise at a time.

  She hated she’d asked that. She imagined those thoughts ran through his mind often enough.

  “I’m sorry I asked that.”

  He looked at the clock. It was nearly seven.

  “Honey, my son is passing through town; I want you to meet him.”

  She panicked. She was not ready. This was too soon.

  “Please not now. I can’t see him like this.” She was a mess. “I can’t meet your son looking as if I’ve been crying all night. No way. I’ll go upstairs until he leaves.”

  “Laila won’t let you in,” he reminded her. “Wait here. Don’t you leave. I dare you,” he warned with a smile.

  It was too late. The doorbell rang. Before he could argue, Kaitlyn ran into his bedroom and closed the door. He laughed. “I’ll get you for that.”

  A tall, handsome young man stood smiling when Justice opened the door. He hugged his son. “Where’s your key?”

  “In my pocket, Dad. I got your message. Are you good?” Jeremiah worried about his father and his job. He hated what the news said about him.

  “Sure, Son. I’m good. I was worried about you.”

  Jeremiah, damp from the rain, sat down and stretched his legs in a manner similar to his father.

  Justice threw a towel to him. “What happened?” Pen had already told him about the girl. Checking on Jeremiah was Pen’s self-appointed duty.

  Jeremiah didn’t ask what he meant. He knew Pen and his dad’s friendship was too deep for secrets. “Nothing, Dad. Mr. Pen rattled my cage a week ago about a girl coming out of my room.”

  “What were you two doing?” Justice could barely hold his grin, but his son was smart, good-looking, and too damn charming. Girls liked him too well and vice versa.

  “I tutor her. That’s all.” The last thing he needed was another sex talk from his dad. “I haven’t forgotten what you told me, Dad. Besides, Aunt Nadine questioned her to death; she wouldn’t look at me the next day. I doubt she’ll ever speak to me again.”

  Justice laughed. His youngest sister insisted he call her “aunt.”

  “Just be careful.” There was a sad, uneasy look in his son’s eyes. Something was wrong.

  “I am, Dad.” His voice was low and pained.

  Justice wondered whether Jeremiah ever thought of the birth woman. He refused to honor her with the title of mother.

  “Son, what is it? I tried finding her. I’ll continue to look if you want me to.” He could read his son, and the same was true for Jeremiah about him.

  “No, Dad. Don’t do that. She made her choice long ago. I never told you.”

  “Jeremiah, you told me you didn’t hold anything back.” He and Jeremiah had talked about his life. He’d thought there were no more secrets. He didn’t want Jeremiah to think he couldn’t come to him about anything.

  “I know, Dad. I’m sorry. Aunt Gracie and Uncle Rayford are so happy with their kids; it brought back some old stuff. I wanted to forget that part of my life and what Mom did. I couldn’t talk about it. I was ashamed. I work with the kids in the shelter and see how their parents don’t worry if they eat or sleep or if they’re sick. Then I think of my own life, how it was, what if you never knew. I’d believed no one wanted me; no one cared if I lived or died.”

  “Son, you haven’t anything to be ashamed of. You have to talk to me. I wish that I could erase that part of your life.”

  “No. No one can.”

  Jeremiah’s voice nearly dropped to a whisper, but he continued. He too sometimes wished that part of his life never happened. “I was ten, and Mom was with this guy who said I was in the way. He told Mom to choose me or him. Mom looked at me and said I should leave, that I always messed things up for her, that she wished I was dead, and that I made her sick. She screamed, ‘You act like him, and you look like him; you’re just like your dad.’ Then she walked away from me.”

  Justice silently cursed as he watched his son struggle to fight that pain.

  “I didn’t know why she said that. I didn’t know what she meant. It would have been easier to understand if she did drugs or she drank, but she didn’t do any of that. Then Dale disappeared, and someone reported to social services that I was living alone. I always believed Dale did it to get even with Mom. When MeMa came to court, she didn’t want me unless they paid her.” He stood; anger had taken over. “I need to go, Dad. Sorry.”

  Before Justice could stop him, Jeremiah ran outside. Justice was seconds behind him. Jeremiah pounded on the hood of his car and then kneeled down.

  Kaitlyn heard the door and held her hands against her heart, sad for both, and whispered, “Dear God, the mother knew all along Justice was the father.” She hadn’t planned on listening to their conversation. Now her heart broke as she stood in the darkness and listened and watched Justice try to save his son. “Help him, Jesus,” she prayed.

  Justice, in his familiar style, crouched in front of Jeremiah.

  “Jeremiah, Son, look at me.” There was no way he’d lose his son this way. He didn’t care who heard him; all he cared about was reaching his son. What he’d witnessed in Jeremiah’s eyes gutted him. “If I could go back in time, I would give anything for you not to have heard that from her, for you to have not gone thr
ough any of that.”

  “I didn’t look like Dale. When I was eight, I heard Dale tell Mom he didn’t believe I was his.”

  “I regret that”—Justice’s voice faltered—“I wasn’t there for you, that I didn’t know about you sooner.”

  “I don’t blame you. I always felt I wasn’t Dale’s son.”

  “Jeremiah, they were the ones who lost, not you. You are the gift they stupidly walked away from. Don’t ever think that I especially don’t care about you or that no one cares about you. When you first came to me, I expected it to be hard for us. We were strangers. Our lives were different. You ran away to be with your friends. That was hell. I was determined to find you. It took days. You didn’t like it when I pulled you out of that house.”

  He gave a small smile. “Dad, you kicked the door in.”

  “I’d do it again. I didn’t care about your friends. I cared about you. You didn’t belong there. We fought and got through that. When you and Nadine were stranded in Sudan on a volunteer mission, who came for you?”

  “It was you and Uncle Rayford,” he answered.

  “That’s family. We love you, and there isn’t anything we wouldn’t do for you, especially your crazy aunt Nadine. You know that. It doesn’t matter what you do, where you are, you are mine, you’re my son, my boy, and I love you. You understand that?”

  “Yes, sir. We’re too connected, like you said. I guess that’s why I volunteer at the shelter. Someone has to care, right?”

  “Yes, Son, someone has to, but remember, you can’t save everyone.”

  The mist stopped.

  “I know. Dad, don’t look anymore. She’s dead to me.”

  “Son, don’t.” He in no way wanted Jeremiah to have resentment in his heart and be destroyed by the woman who was supposed to love him first—his mother. Jeremiah couldn’t measure every woman to Clarissa. That bitterness would tear him apart.

  “Really, I’m good. Remember, I’m more you than anyone.” He tried to laugh but couldn’t. “Mom could have found me. She never looked. I wish she had loved me just as I am like you do. I don’t need her in my life anymore. What would be the point?”

  “It’s your choice, Jeremiah.” He’d drop it for now. “Now, is there anything else?”

  “No, Dad. We’re good.”

  “Jeremiah, I’m very proud of you.”

  “I know. I have to go. I want to stop by Aunt Gracie and Uncle Rayford’s to see the babies.”

  “Not until you dry off.” He wanted to make sure Jeremiah wasn’t upset on the road; he needed time to calm down.

  Kaitlyn hurriedly rushed back to the bedroom. The father-son conversation had brought more tears for her. Justice Black was truly a good man and father. Barrett and her grandmom had seen it from the beginning.

  Later Justice walked Jeremiah to the car. As usual, the Jeep was loaded with fishing gear. They both loved the sport.

  “I added more money to your account. You’re managing well.”

  “You don’t have to keep doing that, but thanks anyway. I appreciate it.”

  “What else would I do with it?” he joked.

  After he’d found out Jeremiah’s MeMa and her family had been bleeding him for money, he’d immediately arranged a family meeting that had included Jeremiah. Everything was made simple. He’d bluntly told everyone if they ever contacted his son again for money, he’d make sure they’d regret it. They had a choice to either be decent in Jeremiah’s life or not be in it at all.

  “It’s simple,” he’d said. Then he’d added with extreme calmness, “Relatives or not, none of you are going to pimp or play with my son like that. Don’t ever think you will.”

  Thinking of that family meeting, Justice rested his hand on Jeremiah’s shoulders. “Has your MeMa or your aunts and uncles contacted you again?”

  “No, they haven’t. Honest, everything’s out.”

  “All right, so how many for Thanksgiving?”

  “So far only one.” Jeremiah laughed.

  Satisfied he was all right to drive, Justice waved his son good-bye.

  Saddened by everything, Kaitlyn leaned in the doorway, folded her arms, rubbed her foot across an imaginary line on the floor, and waited for Justice.

  “Duchess, what’s wrong?”

  “I love you, Tobiah. I told you before I will take whatever you give me, no strings attached.”

  Without hesitation he carried her to his bed and gently nibbled her neck. He laughed when she squealed and kissed her deeply to muffle her sound. Kaitlyn hugged him tighter as if she could make him a part of her.

  “You’re soaking wet,” she sighed.

  “I know, and if you keep making those little sounds, Laila will hear you.” He noticed the parrots never made a sound when Kaitlyn was around.

  “She sent me here.” Kaitlyn burrowed deeper under him and responded in French, “J’ y suis. J’ y reste. Here I am. Here I remain.”

  “Tant mieux, so much the better,” he replied. “God, Duchess, do you tell Laila everything?” He pressed his forehead against her, embarrassed that her grandmom encouraged intimacy with him.

  “Pretty much,” she teased. “She told me I should go where I belonged.” She kissed his throat as she removed his wet clothing. “So here I am with you. I missed you.”

  “You are one strange woman.”

  “And you are what, mister?” she teased. “Even stranger.”

  “Laila is right. This is where you belong.” Justice stopped her hands and raised them above her head. He held them together with his large hand and kissed the underside of her arms before he moved to her breast, savoring each nipple. His mouth was so maddening tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

  “Dance with me, Tobiah.” It had been too long. It was a soothing balm when he hungrily took her. Nothing or no one existed or mattered except each other.

  Much later, Justice held her stare until her heart beat to a slower pace. “Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered.

  Deep in thought, he had to let her know what she was up against. Whatever she decided, it had to be her choice.

  Kaitlyn thought how erratic his life was and how lonely. She worried about him. She didn’t kid herself. When he caught Ed, there would be a tragedy. She hoped not, yet she was realistic about Justice and what he would do.

  “Kaitlyn.” He gently kissed her. “I need to talk to you.”

  She took his little finger and held it. “What’s wrong? You only call me Kaitlyn when something is seriously wrong.” When he didn’t deny it, she said, “I know, Justice.”

  Guarded, he asked, “Know what?”

  “That you will do what needs to be done when you find Ed. Someone will lose. I’d rather it not be anyone, but God forgive me, I don’t want it to be you.” She waited for his denial. When he again offered none, she placed her hand over his heart. “We need for you to be all right in all ways possible. Do you understand?”

  “We?”

  “Yes. That’s Jeremiah and the people who love you, especially me. Even those against you, who would they fight if you were not here? Do you understand?”

  He nodded. “I do, and for the record, Ed didn’t win anything.”

  “No, he didn’t. So,” she giggled, “are we good? We’ve unpacked our suitcases?”

  “Yes, and we’re damn good,” he confirmed. “What you need is to go dancing. What do you say when all this is over—and it will be over—we do just that?”

  She laughed. “Dancing? I thought you were uncomfortable with my dancing.”

  “I’m not talking about that dancing.” He arched a brow at her. “And you damn well know that.”

  She imitated his expression. “What kind of dancing?”

  “You know, the jazz-concert-dancing kind or maybe a jazz cruise. Would you like that?”


  “Oh, I see. That kind of dance. I’d love to.” She held his face between the palms of her hands and kissed him again, arousing an even greater need than before. She hadn’t realized how his absence had affected her. “I want you, Justice Tobiah.”

  “Really?” He mischievously grinned. “Show me.”

  Kaitlyn caught him off guard with a swift move that landed him on his back. He was useless once she began showing him the surprising new ways that she wanted him.

  While the couple enjoyed the warmth of the apartment, across town in the alley behind Frank’s Market, the icy rain pelted Ed as he huddled between the wall and Dumpster struggling to stay warm and dry. He tried to pull himself together and ignore the throbbing pain racing down his leg. A slight crooked smile creased his face, which made him look like a madman. No matter, tomorrow would be better because it was the first day of the festival.

  chapter

  SIXTY-TWO

  Dressed as a pirate made it easy for Ed to mingle; everyone wore masks, so he fit right in even with his limp. Several men dressed as pirates walked across the makeshift bridge en route to Main Street.

  Justice stood among the crowd, watching for that one man who would stand out. He’d be nervous, working hard to blend in, but he’d see him. He’d see Ed. There was something odd about the man who stopped frequently and rubbed his leg and nervously watched over his shoulders. He decided to follow him.

  His left leg still hurt. He’d finished the supply of pain pills Dragus had gotten for him. The thigh muscle tightened and burned like hell. Each step he took was a hot knife cutting through his flesh. It was almost unbearable. But he needed to keep going. He’d be sure to tell Dragus to double the supply.

  Ed reached inside his pocket and pulled out the syringe. All he needed was Justice Black to keep walking toward him. He had one chance to get it done. Five hundred feet more, and his target would be ready to fall. Someone brushed against him, and his weak leg nearly gave out, but he kept moving.

  Somewhere in the crowd, a woman screamed and yelled, “He has a gun!” The crowd ran in every direction, pushing Ed down, and the syringe slipped from his hand. He reached for it, and someone stepped on his hand, crushing the syringe and nearly crushing his hand. He nearly screamed out in pain. After he managed to pull himself up and away from the crowd, Justice had run in the direction of the scream.