Justified Steel (Steel Crew Book 4)

by Mj Fields

  Tobias shakes his head. “I actually tried to shut you up.”

  “We were all carrying you out at that point.” Patrick snickers. “And on our way out, you screamed at her, telling her—and I quote again— ‘That ass is mine to ruin, Gabrielle. Mine.’ End quote.”

  “No fucking way did I say that shit to any female, especially not her,” I grumble, knowing damn well they’re fucking with me.

  The door opens. “Thought I heard my son.”

  The other side of the bed dips, and Dad pats me on the back, and not too damn lightly, either. “Up and at ’em, boy. We’re gonna go for a run.”

  “Not today, Dad,” I grumble.

  “Yes, today.” The mattress moves when he stands, and then he pulls the blanket off my head. “Let’s go, big guy.”

  I roll to my side and look at Dad. “Do I look like I’m in any kind of shape to go for—”

  “Let’s go,” he says through his teeth, before giving me a tight-lipped smile.

  Patrick laughs as he stands. “Good luck, man.”

  Dry heaving into a sand dune, I see Dad out of the corner of my eye, still jogging in place while stretching.

  “Let’s go, JT. Another two miles and—”

  “Dad, I’m fucking dying over here. Jesus, just give me a break.”

  “You’ll get none of that from me, not after last night.”

  I wipe my sleeve across my lips. “Shit happens. It won’t happen again.”

  “Shit happening is one thing, JT. Having to be carried into the house by your cousins and Truth’s boyfriend isn’t shit; that’s irresponsible, that’s dangerous, that’s—”

  “I let loose one time, Dad—one—and the world is still spinning. No one died and—”

  “Letting loose is having a couple too many and having to call for a ride; not getting buck-ass naked at a party, streaking through a crowd of, I’m guessing, a hundred peers, and telling a friend of your sister’s you’re going to ruin her.”

  “Fuckers,” I spit.

  “Oh, hell no, you don’t get to blame them. That was all you. You came home, half-clothed and belligerent, telling my wife—your mother—and doing it in front of your female cousins, just how bad you’re gonna ruin that girl.”

  The thought makes me puke and, undeserving as I may be, it makes my stomach feel a bit better.

  “Let’s go, JT. Two miles now.”

  We run, and we run hard. And, as per our norm, we slow down to cool off as soon as the house comes back into view.

  I finally look at him. “I’ll apologize to Mom.”

  “I know you will,” he says, still pissed.

  “As far as the crew goes, they know that’s not me. But I’ll make sure they know I was out of line.”

  “That’s good”—he looks at his watch— “because breakfast will be ready as soon as we get inside, and they’ll all be along shortly.”

  I glance out of the corner of my eye, and he gives me a tight smile.

  “All of them.”

  Walking into the house, sweat that’s probably one hundred proof oozes from my pores and slickens my heated skin. I head to my room to shower, because I can’t stand the smell of me.

  Am I pissed at myself? Yes. I fucked up by getting shitfaced, and there of all places. But, as the saying goes, drunk mouths speak sober thoughts, and apparently, my drunk mouth publicly threatened anyone who touched Gabrielle Morales-Ortez. As pissed as Dad would be to hear me admit it, I’m fucking glad she won’t be getting off.

  Bitch doesn’t deserve it.

  But, as far as taking over the shit Tobias wants me to take over at Seashore, that’s just not in my plans.

  Walking upstairs to the main level of our three-story beach house, I see her first. My jaw tightens to the point I’m probably going to bust a tooth, and she looks down.

  I look at Mom. “Sorry about last night. Won’t happen again.”

  She smiles sadly and shakes her head as she hands me a bottle of water. “I know.”

  Truth laughs. “Which part? The drinking or the streaking?”

  I watch Mom visibly cringe and feel like shit, and not just because I’m hungover as fuck.

  I swallow back the water and am about to speak when Gabrielle pipes up.

  “The streaking would be my fault.”

  Dad and Mom both look at her then back at me.

  I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

  “Then how exactly is it?” Dad sneers.

  Again, Gabrielle pipes in, and I want to haul her ass out through the glass doors and toss her off the fucking balcony.

  “I unknowingly allowed a few of the wrong crowd into my house last night.”

  I take a drink of my water as she continues.

  “And a much, much older woman took advantage of him in my bedroom.”

  Oh, hell no, she didn’t, I think as I nearly choke on my water.

  “Gabrielle,” I warn her.

  She glares at me.

  Dads voice rumbles as he says, “Go on, Gabrielle.”

  She then looks at my parents. “She’s known to try to seduce high school boys who she knows have family money. She actually got pregnant by one of them. She was nineteen then; he was fifteen. Her daughter is two.” She looks at me. “Do the math.”

  “You need to shut—”

  “Go on, Gabrielle,” Dad interrupts me as he pulls out a chair for her to sit at the kitchen island.

  Mom sets a glass of orange juice in front of her.

  Gabrielle holds up her paw. “Oh, no, I don’t want to interrupt family time.”

  “You’re not interrupting, Gabrielle,” Dad says, pushing the glass toward her. “This is something Justice needs to hear.”

  “No, really, I don’t,” I snap.

  Gabrielle looks back at me, giving me a look that they could easily mistake for sympathetic, but I see malice in her eyes.

  Bitch.

  “I know Justice is known for liking older women, which is what he said as he stood between us after she assaulted me.”

  Mom’s gasp gives Gabrielle a brief pause, and then she looks at me again. “He said, I’m legal.” Then she looks back at my folks.

  I look at Tobias and give him the get-her-the-fuck-out-of-here look. He looks down.

  “Anyway, I kicked her out, and then got pissed they were in my room, so I threw his clothes and my soiled bedding off my balcony and into the pool. I guess it was immature, but I am just seventeen.” She lifts her cup to her lips and takes a drink. I swear to fuck she’s smirking.

  “Do you have something to say to Gabrielle, Justice?”

  “Plenty,” I hiss.

  “How about you start with thank you for saving your ass from possibly getting a known predator knocked up?” Dad hisses back.

  I laugh as I look at him. “Six years between two people doesn’t make a predator, and unless I missed something in health class, a blow job can’t get a girl knocked up.”

  Dad grips the edge of the counter. “Then how did you soil the …?” He stops when Mom’s eyes swing up to him, her face beet red. “Sorry, Birdie.”

  Gabrielle kicks me pretty fucking hard under the island as she looks at my parents, all doe-eyed and innocent, and says, “Oh, well, yeah, she was a drooler. He had to clean himself off. I mean, I can’t blame him; it was disgusting.”

  Silence.

  Ruining her now sounds like a trip to Disney compared to what I am going to do to her.

  “Anyway, the streaking was my fault, and I suppose the drinking, too, since it was my party. But I assure you no one who drinks at my house drives.” She looks at me. “And no one usually takes half a decanter of eighteen-year-old Yamazaki single malt off the bar and drinks out of it, either.”

  “Please tell your parents he’ll replace it. Just let us know how much it costs,” Mom says sadly.

  Gabrielle looks at me, and I cock an eyebrow. She narrows her eyes before turning back to my parents and shaking her head. “I’m not sure they’ll
even notice. And besides, my father wouldn’t take money; he’d expect something ridiculous”—she waves a paw and shakes her head— “based on the principle of the act, you know? Like cleaning the pool or—”

  “I’d have to agree with your father,” Dad says, feeding into her shit. “Maybe we could have your parents over for dinner and tell them Justice will be—”

  “They’re rarely around,” Gabrielle cuts him off. “Won’t be back until probably the first day of my senior year to get those first day pictures, you know.” She laughs. “And the pool is being drained as we speak. So, no big deal.”

  “They leave you alone for that long?” Dad asks the same damn question I’m thinking, but he cares. Me? I sure as fuck don’t, but it explains a lot about her.

  “Oh, heavens no.” She takes another drink and sets it down. “Nanny … housekeeper …” She waves her paw around again. “Very rarely do I get any time alone. It’s kind of overbearing, actually.”

  “Well, we’d like to meet them,” Dad says. “Would be nice to get to know the neighbors.”

  She takes another drink and nods as she smiles. “I should get going and leave you all alone.” She grabs her phone from her bag, and Dad being Dad notices right away that she’s ordering a car.

  “JT can give you a ride home.”

  The fuck he can, I think.

  She shakes her head. “It’s fine. I have a few stops to make.”

  “He can make a few stops,” Dad insists.

  “Thought I had to wait and apologize to—”

  “Go,” Dad snaps.

  Looking up, I see my parents at the window, watching me as I walk toward my vehicle.

  “I’ll open the fucking door,” I whisper hiss.

  “Don’t bother,” she says with disgust.

  “Trust me, Queenie, I’d rather toss your ass in the back, but my parents are watching.”

  I hit the unlock on my key fob and have to hurry up to get to the door before her.

  “This vehicle is atrocious,” she sputters.

  “Sorry, next time I’m in the market, I’ll get something that I don’t like just to blend in with the other snobs at school.” I open the door and force a smile for my parents’ sake.

  “Whatever,” she huffs as she climbs in, her ass so close to my face that I could bite it. And I want to … just to draw blood.

  When her ass is safely in the seat, I slam the door shut.

  Bitch.

  As soon as I open the driver’s door, she starts running her mouth.

  “I don’t need an apology—that was for your parents—but a thank you would be the polite thing to say to me after saving your ass.”

  I start up my vehicle. “Put on your seat belt and shut the hell up.”

  “Really, Justice? Really?”

  After securing my belt, I look at her. “You can drop your innocent little socialite act, Queenie. I know better. As a matter of fact, apparently, so do half the boys at Seashore Academy.”

  Slap.

  I grab her wrist and lean in closer to her than I’ve been in two fucking years. Her eyes widen as she swallows hard and licks her lips. I can feel her fucking pulse quicken beneath my fingers and tiny little bursts of hot, sweet air hit my face as she tries to hold it in. I inhale.

  The word, “Stop,” gets stuck in her throat, causing rage to begin a slow boil inside of me.

  “I wouldn’t give you my lips if yours were the last to kiss on the planet. I wouldn’t give you my tongue to come on if it would save me from dying from dehydration. I wouldn’t give you a finger to ride just to listen to your pathetic, needy little mewls.” I shove her paw from mine. “And I sure as fuck wouldn’t give you a ride in my atrocious vehicle if you were walking down the Turnpike, buck-ass naked, barefoot, and in the dead of winter. This, Queenie, is at my parents’ insistence, so buckle your seat belt and shut the fuck up, or so help me God, I will ruin you, and that isn’t a drunken rambling; it’s a sober promise.”

  She buckles, as I knew she would, and doesn’t say shit as I back out.

  Once on the road, she whispers, “Does Truth know?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Queenie. It was a summer fling, one I would have long forgotten if we hadn’t moved here.”

  She clears her throat. “It wasn’t. It was three— no, four summers — four weeks—four Labor days, if you count the first time we met … before the kiss.”

  “Interesting that you remember. I’ve had my fingers in so many pussies I forgot what yours even felt like. But I can imagine it feels like a fucking lie.”

  She clears her throat again. “You didn’t come back. You said, when you got your license, you were going to take me—”

  “Shut up, Queenie. Just shut the fuck up.”

  As I’m about to pull down her road, she whispers my name. “I don’t know why you hate me now, but if it will end this, I’m sorry.”

  I push out an angry laugh. “And what are you sorry for? Fucking with my sister?”

  “I didn’t know she was your—”

  “Invading my fucking home?”

  “She invited me.” Her voice cracks.

  “Throwing my clothes—”

  “No! I’m not sorry for that! How could you do—”

  “Lying to my parents? Making them think I was fucking targeted by some—”

  “I did not lie! She’s a horrible person!” she screams.

  “Yeah,” I say as I roll up to her gate. “Takes one to know one, doesn’t it!”

  “I hate—”

  “The fucking code, Elle!”

  “Like I’m gonna tell you!” She starts to open the door, and I jack her ass back in.

  “I promised my parents to bring you home. Now give me the code”—I rev my engine—“or so help me God, I will run right fucking through the damn gate. Then your parents may come home and put your ass in check so you’ll stop trying to find a daddy in every fucking guy who’s between your—”

  Slap.

  I drop the gear and smile as I rev the engine again. “I may get in trouble for this, arrested even, but it’ll be well fucking worth it.”

  “Two, nine, one, nine, three, zero, zero!” she screams. “I hate you so much!” Her voice breaks, and I know she’s crying. And, for the first time in my fucking life, the sound of her crying doesn’t hurt my heart; it makes me deliriously happy.

  I hit the code, and the gate opens. Then I hit the gas and lay rubber as I tear up her driveway.

  “I hate you so much! I hate you!”

  Rounding the corner at the top of her drive, I see a Maserati sitting in the driveway, and Harrison Reeves is leaning against it.

  “Holy shit.” I shake my head when realization hits, and I don’t stomp on the brakes until he dives over the hood for safety.

  “What the hell is wrong with you!” she screams at me. “You almost hit him! His car!”

  I close my eyes as I try to calm the fuck down, throw the vehicle in park, and then turn to look at her. I grab the side of her face, hoping like hell to make it look like I’m kissing her as I whisper, “I hope he feels the same way I did when I saw you fucking him right after I got my license. Parked at the beach, walked up to your place to surprise you, and found you by your pool. Now get the fuck out of my vehicle.”

  “Justice, I—”

  “Get. Out.”

  “Just let me expla—”

  “I hate you back. I hate you back so hard I’m going to make it hurt forever,” I say, releasing her and sitting back.

  “Justice—”

  “Out.”

  Steel Sunday

  Justice

  “Morning, Justice,” Mom whispers as she sits on the side of my bed and hands me a bottle of water. “Feeling better?”

  Sitting up, I nod. “Yeah, sorry. Won’t happen again.”

  She smiles softly at me and reaches for the blanket on my pillow, sets it on her lap, and begins to fold it. “When you were born, I was so scared I was going to lose you,”
she says, rubbing her hand over the soft, worn light blue fabric. “Even after we brought you home, I swaddled you so tightly in this blanket, because I was terrified you’d wiggle free and somehow you’d end up—”

  I place my hand over hers. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. It was a bad night. Lesson learned. Won’t happen again.”

  She smiles down at my hand and places her other over it. “I believe you, but I will never stop wanting to make sure you’re okay.”

  “Mom—”

  She squeezes my hand. “I trust you, Justice. I know your heart and, as difficult as it is to think of my baby girl becoming a mother someday, it’s terrifying to think that someday a girl may get pregnant by my son.”

  I interrupt her, “I’m responsible Mom.”

  “It’s terrifying because, with Truth, I will be there every step of the way. I’ll watch part of our family grow beneath her belly. I’ll be able to hold her hand at an office visit, or when she’s in labor. I’ll know, because your father and I raised her, she’ll make sure that baby is taken care of and loved. But with you, my son, I will have to trust that the girl you someday give your heart to will know just how important it is to love, protect, and nurture.”

  I smile and nod. “I know that, Mom. And trust me, I’m not getting myself into that situation anytime soon.”

  She smiles. “I don’t so much as care about timing as I do that she be deserving of your heart, your love, your loyalty.”

  “Understood.”

  She smiles as she looks down at my baby blanket, lets out a slow breath, and then looks back at me.

  “Family dinner here today, right?” I ask.

  Her smile grows and brightens. “That all depends on what’s happening at Jersey General right now.”

  “What?” I ask as worry kicks me in the balls.

  She nods. “Kiki went into labor last night.”

  “It’s early,” I say, getting out of bed. “We should go.”

  “Truth and your dad are there, in the waiting room. They’ll call when we need to be there.”

  “Momma Joe—”

  “She’s on her way,” Mom calls from behind me as I walk into the bathroom.