Justice Black: The Game Never Ends

by Gartia Bansah

  The opportunity was gone. Ed chided himself. “You’ll get another chance.” After all, he’d gotten help for his other targets. Who would miss Lucky and Fred?

  He thought he recognized one of the chairman’s men watching him; he was scared and searched among the crowd but didn’t see anyone. “Legion,” he whispered. He had messed up. That would be a strike against him. “Not to worry. Halloween is just around the corner. Not to worry,” he repeated.

  “Dr. Black, Ms. Marcus is on line one, and Mayor Tevis is on line two. Should I push Marcus through first?”

  The hospitals and emergency crews in the neighboring towns were on alert. Although the cameras weren’t working, Justice was sure the man on the bridge may have been Ed. They’d picked up the lighting engineer for questioning; the man swore there was a glitch in the switches. So far Lucky and Fred were the only two sarin victims. Fred remembered quarreling with a man who fit Ed’s description at a food bank, but the patch was over the right eye. Police patrols were increased at the shelters, and people were advised to be cautious of their surroundings, especially during the festival. Justice expected the mayor to call.

  Jeri hoped today was better than yesterday. Since the parade, the press had hounded her boss nonstop. As she knew he would, he’d strongly faced that political lynch-mob hearing, and she was happy Senator Wray and his mob had had to eat their accusations. The program was not only blessed but received additional funding for more agents. Her boss was in all the way. It made Kane Wray look like the idiot he was.

  “Go ahead, Jeri.” For what he had to say it wouldn’t take too long. “Ms. Marcus, how are you?”

  “What do you mean by circumventing my story? I know you are responsible. You can’t do this, and I’ll have that traitor Ron Castleman run out of town.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Wasn’t it you who cried freedom of the press? Since your story is about Dr. Joseph, she has the right to tell it her way.”

  “You’ll pay for this, Justice—you and your little worldly woman.”

  “I see professionalism has scurried out your door, so why don’t we end this now?”

  “Look, Justice, I’m sorry for saying that. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t take it personally. But could you tell me something about what happened at the parade?” She couldn’t help herself, but the thought of Justice with any woman made her ill. “Was your girlfriend connected to it?”

  “Gwen, you’ve crossed the line.”

  He hung up before she could say another word.

  “Jeri, put the mayor through.”

  Tevis was fuming. The Ed Drayton headlines were ruining everything.

  “Bastard,” Tevis swore after hanging up. “Because of two homeless people, Justice created far more fear than necessary.”

  Mavis had heard his conversation; it didn’t go well. Rejection was never one of his strongest points.

  “I’m going to see Eunice if I can,” she said.

  Tevis turned furiously around and met her face-to-face. Justice Black and now this. “You can’t do that, Mavis. Think of the publicity and the scandal. You can’t be seen with Eunice.”

  “She’s my friend. I’m not turning my back on her. Besides, Justice Black probably already knows her connections to me. People talk, you know.”

  “Forget that!” he shouted. “For once in your life, be reasonable. You can’t go near that hospital, or you’ll be dealing with more than me. You know that, Mavis. Think of Rodney, of what will happen to him.”

  She did. “All right.” She relented. She wouldn’t risk her son.

  “Now how much did you take from the damn bank?” he asked.

  Mavis backed away. This rage was different. She didn’t fear her husband, but she was furious. She needed to make things clear for him.

  “Are you raising your voice at me, telling me what I can do with my money? It’s time you remember this is no longer a one-way street, made by your rules. Your plans are falling apart. You were so secretive about your business deals, as if I cared about any of it.” He had no idea that for years she’d saved for a day like this. She had plenty of money.

  “So it’s like that now?” She’d struck a nerve. “Let me tell you something, dear wife. We are in this together. That insurance money was to be our ticket to starting things the way we needed. Your pet projects cost money. I don’t have near as much in donations as I thought. The charity projects were means to receive and pass money, not for your personal use.”

  “Tevis, it has always been like that. I never cared for you, and you knew that. This was a damn business arrangement; sex is no longer part of the deal, so don’t include me in your plans. I don’t need your money.”

  Tevis glared at her, careful not to show any weakness. He’d always wanted her.

  “Mavis, calm down. What we need is something major to get the money we need.”

  Mavis turned away from him. The sooner he was out of her life, the better. When the election was over, she’d be free to quietly leave under the guise of an illness. She’d say she needed to travel overseas for relaxation, and then she’d quietly die there. The death certificate would be sent here, and then she’d be free. She’d have a new identity and live her own life.

  “We? Tevis, I’m not that naïve young girl anymore. You think I’d allow you to set Ed up and destroy him and not do anything about it?”

  His surprised expression gave him away.

  “Yes, I know. You let that chairman find him purposely to do this, and now Justice Black is after him. You want Justice to kill him.” She was beside herself with rage. “You leave him alone. I told you in the beginning when you made this sick arrangement with my father that you are never to touch anyone I care about. I am with you for one reason: you had to have me. This marriage was for you and your sick, pathetic mother’s convenience. I had no choice.”

  Tevis could spit fire. How in the hell did she find out about his mother and everything else? They’d always been careful with that information.

  “You actually think you will be with David now?” he snapped. “Think again. I’ll see to that. Remember this: if I’m trash, as you’ve said before, that makes you what? I’ll tell you what: a trash’s whore.”

  Mavis slapped him hard across his face. Her ring left a cut on his jaw. “Don’t you ever call me that again. In every way possible, you and your mother made me your whore.”

  Tevis grabbed his coat in a rage.

  “Where are you going?” she yelled.

  “To look for that idiot. If I don’t take care of him, they’ll take care of us. He is collateral damage, and you damn well know that. Maybe he and Black will kill each other. And stay away from Eunice.”

  chapter

  SIXTY-THREE

  The sunset was beautiful. Fireworks lit up the sky. The festival was going strong, but she hadn’t gone to any of the events. Kaitlyn stood at the balcony window and watched the evening sun go down. It had been a while since she’d been alone in her apartment. She loved the setting sun; it meant she’d survived another day. The orange horizon offered her a sense of peace. She played a soft melody on her sax to bid the day farewell. Her past flashed in front of her again as she wiped away more tears. The story woke too many memories of her momma. She missed her terribly.

  “I need to get a hold of myself. I can’t do anything about the past,” she cried. She replaced her sax in its case and again faced the window and imagined herself at the foot of that sunset, away from everything.

  The story helped in a bittersweet way. She’d rekindled her friendship with Ron, and this time he was saving her. When he told her he’d become a boxer for a short time, she laughed. He’d learned to stand on his own. She would again be ever thankful to Justice. She should be happy, so why wasn’t she?

  She didn’t hear the key in the door when Justice came in. He stood and took in the
scene; whether it was her or the sunset, he couldn’t decide which was more beautiful. Her hair was in that don’t-touch-me knot again. She seemed so far away.

  He walked up behind her, wrapped her in his arms, and swayed with her.

  “Where are you?” He kissed the hollow of her neck as she leaned farther back into him for a deeper touch.

  “You know, someone once asked me whether I liked horror movies; I told them no. I was too busy starring in my own horror movie. I fight hard not to be that fourteen-year-old again. Sometimes it’s a challenge. No human should be wanted or hunted the way Ed does me. It’s not natural.” She waited a moment before she could continue. “I feel like it’s hunting season, and I’m the prey. I’m stalked and hunted to be devoured. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

  He did and pulled her closer.

  “I’m fine,” she finally said as her breathing became shallow from the effects of his gentle touches. “Sometimes it’s not good that you know all of my weak spots. Justice, how are you really? Congratulations on winning your hearing. You made the national news. More funding for your program. That’s good news, right?”

  “Where’s Laila?”

  She could only shake her head at his stubbornness. He wouldn’t even accept that as a victory.

  “Barrett had business in New York, and Grandmom decided to go with her for a change.”

  “Hmmm,” he said between kisses. “That leaves us adults all alone, unsupervised.”

  She giggled at the mischief in his voice as he caressed her stomach. “Well,” she answered in a singsong manner.

  “You have your hair in a knot, I see.”

  She gasped as he touched her in a too-familiar way that intensified her sensuality.

  “You don’t like it.”

  “My sisters wore that style when they were sad or mad. Which are you?”

  “Both, sort of,” she admitted. “You want to take it out?”

  “No. It’s not my creation.”

  She reached up to pull the pins out; he took the advantage to caress her breast. With closed eyes she enjoyed the tender sensation and stopped to hold his face between the palms of her hands.

  “Take it down,” he whispered.

  She obeyed and relaxed when he gently lowered her to the floor. The sunset nestled the two powerful lovers as they came together as one.

  “Kaitlyn, we shouldn’t have happened.”

  “We happened. We didn’t search for each other; we’re part of a bigger plan not yet revealed. We shouldn’t worry; we only need to be prepared. You are so strong; I have so much respect for you.” A few days before his hearing, a terribly upset young woman had pulled up next to his car but wouldn’t get out. Justice had gently lifted and held her until she’d calmed before he carried her into his apartment. She’d mentioned it to Wil; she’d said it was one of his sisters. “I am really sorry I called you an idiot and a moron and that I ever reported you for animal cruelty.”

  Justice gently kissed her shoulders and neck. “I’m still wounded. Dr. Joseph, you have a responsibility to fix it,” he teased.

  She laughed and reached inside her pant pockets and handed him her business card, on which she had written, “Justice Tobiah Black is guaranteed unlimited private free healing sessions with Dr. Kaitlyn Joseph.” She laughed, “I’ve been waiting to give it to you.”

  He took the card with a grin. “Unlimited, huh. Accepted.”

  Kaitlyn hated to move, but they needed to. “Are you hungry? You haven’t been eating well, although it certainly hasn’t harmed this body of yours.” She appreciatively rubbed her hands over his lean, taut body as proof. But he looked strained and tired. The most he slept was four hours a night. The Senate hearing had been grueling; if it bothered him, he never said anything, not even when he was praised. That was who he was. She stroked his eyes and as before smoothed his graying temple. “In celebration of your hearing success, I made seafood soup.”

  “No kidding. You cooked?” He’d never once seen her in that kitchen; most of the meals were takeouts or cooked by Laila.

  “Yes, I cooked.” She playfully swatted his shoulder. “As a matter of fact, remember, I fish too.” She scooted from under him, and since her clothes were everywhere, she grabbed his shirt on the way to the kitchen.

  “That’s right. Maybe I’ve found another fishing buddy.” He hurriedly pulled on his pants and followed her, ready to see her other talents. “This should be interesting.”

  He stood closely behind her, and she turned around into his arms with the bowls between them.

  “I clean and cook my own fish too, so you can wipe that look off your face.”

  Justice tried to look as guiltless as possible but failed miserably. “Woman, who is allergic to seafood, fetch me soup,” he teased.

  “You win.” She admitted. “I’m not allergic but if this woman is to fetch, you’ll have to move.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Why? Can’t you do it from here?”

  “I can, if you want it spilled everywhere. You’ll clean the mess.”

  She giggled when he guided her to the stove and, still holding her, peered over her shoulders and lifted the pot’s lid for inspection. He gave his visual approval with a nod.

  “Looks good, but how does it taste?”

  “Try it, and see for yourself.”

  She dished a generous helping with a serving of fufu, a African pounded yam dish. She wasn’t sure if he’d like it and eagerly sat and waited.

  Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. “It’s an African dish of spices, palm nut cream, habañero pepper, tomatoes, African garden egg, which is the same as eggplant, okra, onion, seafood, and chunks of chicken.” He gave her nods of approval with each spicy bite.

  “This is good.” He handed her his empty bowl for a refill.

  She generoulsy refilled his bowl with relieved satisfaction. She’d spent most of the evening preparing the dish.

  “It’s not too spicy, is it?”

  “No, it’s spiced right, like you, Duchess.”

  Her face warmed.

  Justice laughed at how easily he could embarrass her with simple words. Kaitlyn possessed many complex layers, and he enjoyed lifting each to discover what lay beneath; she was well worth the challenge.

  “I ate a lot of this when I lived in Ghana. How did you learn to make it?” He was truly surprised.

  “My grandma Opal Daisy taught me. She’s Ghanaian.”

  “No kidding? What tribe?”

  “Ewe. She taught me the language. Why?”

  “Honey, you are a real keeper,” he replied in Ewe.

  “Like a good catch?” she asked in Ewe.

  “Sure, like you, my perfect woman.” He rested his spoon on the table; he needed to ask her now. “Kaitlyn, the house is ready, and Jeremiah and a friend are coming home for Thanksgiving. I want you with us.” He waited for her excuse; none came. “If Laila is back, I would like for her to come also, to meet Jeremiah.”

  This was the second time he’d asked her to meet Jeremiah. To include her grandmom was serious.

  “Justice, you’ve told me about his birth but not much else or about your family.” Embarrassed, she lowered her head. “You know everything about me.”

  She was right; he hadn’t.

  “You’re right. He’s my son. As for Clarissa, she was pretty, and I was full of youthful uncontrollable hormones. Now I haven’t any pleasant thoughts about her.”

  Kaitlyn sat next to him and held his little finger.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  Justice smiled at her. “My parents, Hazel and Isaac, are retired university professors and are now serving in the Peace Corps. I have five younger sisters. Identical twins Khadijah and Khalidah.” He quieted for a moment. “Khalidah is divorcing her husband.”

  “I’m so sorry.�
�

  “No, she had to. It was her decision,” he continued. “Then there’s Lonnie, Makala, and Nadine.”

  Kaitlyn laughed.

  “Yeah, Dad started with the alphabet after his name; he said it was easier to remember. My kid sister Nadine is the same age as Jeremiah. When I told everyone about Jeremiah, Dad nearly went nuts with that. Mom prayed. Nadine thought it was funny; the others teased Dad for days that he and I were practically doing the same thing at the same time. You see, Nadine and Jeremiah were born the same month and year, but Nadine is one week older than Jeremiah.”

  “I can imagine what went through your parents’ minds.”

  “My mother, being the Sunday School teacher and the choir director, asked the church to pray for me and their firstborn grandchild. Jesus Christ, Dad was a deacon in the church and made me go before the congregation and ask for forgiveness. When I brought Jeremiah home, everyone said Jeremiah looked as if I’d given birth to him. They knew of Clarissa’s family and in a nutshell said Jeremiah was ours and he needed a chance in life, that it was my responsibility to give him that. It was that simple.”

  “Justice, you’re still angry with his mother.” She quieted a moment to carefully phrase her next words. “Clarissa may have had her reasons, you know,” she offered.

  He looked at Kaitlyn before he answered. He knew what she was trying to do.

  “I can’t think of any good reason that would’ve made sense to Jeremiah when his mother yelled at him that she hated him and wished he was dead and then walked away as if he were garbage. Can you?”

  Kaitlyn let out a small cry. “No, I can’t. Not to any child at any age.”

  “I didn’t think so.” Sadly, he added, “My son was ten when she did that to him.” He thought of those difficult times with Jeremiah and shook his head. “Honey, I know about being emotionally stuck. Clarissa nearly destroyed my son. Jeremiah’s good now.”