Cards of Love: Justice

by Wilde, Amelia

  The second guy has his hand locked on her wrist and the sight of it makes my last vestiges of self-control combust.

  I wrap my fist around his wrist and squeeze. The dumbfuck is staring, open-mouthed. What kind of people do they hire these days for retrieval?

  “Let go,” I growl in his face.

  He goes for his pocket.

  I go for his nose.

  It shatters under the heel of my hand and I feel him release his grip. Justice stumbles backward.

  “Fuck,” says the second guy, blood streaming from his nose.

  I position myself between her and them.

  The first guy, he has some sense. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  The second spits a mouthful of blood. “Without her? Mr. Hector—”

  “The boss’ll never find us if we take another job.”

  My heart pounds. To hurry along their decision making, I take a step closer. The second guy reaches for his pocket again.

  “Reach any farther and I’ll kill you.” I put my own hand at my back. I’ve already broken his nose.

  He decides I’m not worth it.

  I watch until the doors of the SUV are closed, then whirl to Justice.

  She’s not there.

  She’s hurrying down the street, getting away from all of us.

  “Justice!”

  She doesn’t hesitate at the sound of my voice.

  “Please!”

  That stops her where she stands, and she turns, the autumn wind whisping her hair around her face.

  “What do you want?”

  She’s crying. I can see the tears from halfway down the block. I don’t dare take another step toward her in case she bolts.

  “You.”

  I let the word ring across the space between us.

  “You left me out here,” she yells back.

  “I left everything else behind.”

  “I just want to go home.” She wraps her arms around herself. The dress is too flimsy for the cold. “But I don’t know where that is.”

  I open my arms.

  She waits.

  “I love you.”

  “You don’t even know me. You don’t know how many people I’ve—”

  “I love you.”

  I don’t care who’s listening. I don’t care that I’ll need several lifetimes with her in order to know all of her secrets. I don’t care. I don’t care. My heart seizes. If she goes the other way, I’ll go back. I’ll go back to the life I had. I’ll do it until the day I die. I’ll be an empty man.

  Justice takes one hesitant step, then another, and then she’s running, barefoot, across the concrete, and she doesn’t stop until she collides with me, sobbing, alive.

  I can’t hear what she’s saying, she’s crying so hard, her teeth chattering. She tips her face up toward mine and I kiss her through her tears, tasting blood. She must have bitten one of her lips when they tried to take her away.

  She says it again.

  “I love you.”

  “God.”

  “It’s stupid.”

  “Nothing could ever be more stupid. I’m a dangerous man.”

  “Please don’t leave me out here again.”

  “Never.”

  I take off my jacket and wrap it around her shoulders, then reach down to her waist to pluck out my phone. We’re going to need a car, and a plane, and I’m going to need to draw from a private account. I’ll never touch the family accounts again, because we need to disappear. Maybe forever.

  Justice presses her body into me, solid and warm despite the cold in the air, as I dial the number and speak into the phone.

  We only have about a minute to wait. “We’re done paying the price,” I tell her.

  “I’d pay it again.”

  I kiss her hair. “Your debts are settled.”

  “You still owe me.” A flicker of a smile crosses her face, and it lights up my entire soul.

  “I’ll pay,” I tell her again, and I see the car at the end of the street. We’re thirty seconds from freedom. “Always.”

  Epilogue

  Justice

  “Istria,” Cassian says as the church bell tolls, rolling over the peninsula. I’m standing at a window looking over the bay, watching the sun play over the waves and reveling in the fact that he’s here in the same room with me.

  He hasn’t left my side in six months, but the sensation of having him nearby never gets old.

  “What about it?”

  Cassian comes up behind me, running his hands down over my arms and pressing his lips into the side of my neck. He likes it when I wear my hair up like this, just so he can kiss me like this. The heat of his mouth makes goosebumps rise under his touch. “It seems like an imaginary name from a peninsula.”

  I lean back into him, feeling his weight and warmth. “I like it.”

  He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “You seem lost in thought, precious thing.”

  “I was thinking of—” I was thinking of New York, and how I don’t care if I never see the city again. There are some things I miss about it. My favorite little restaurants, for one. But other than that... “I was thinking of how much I like being here with you.”

  “Like?” Cassian teases. “If you don’t like it, I have ways of convincing you otherwise.”

  That brings a blush to my cheeks and a smile to my face. “The windows are open.”

  “Not all punishments need to be loud.”

  I press my thighs together under the fabric of my dress. Cassian, it turns out, isn’t such a glutton for pain. He is a glutton for pleasure. Me, on the other hand? I like them both in equal measure. Luckily, he knows how to give it to me.

  I know he wouldn’t hesitate to open the case he carries with the various toys that can make my toes curl along with his touch, but I lick my lips and try to remain a responsible lady. “I thought we were meeting someone.”

  “We are.”

  It’s the first time in all these weeks that he’s wanted us to be in a specific place at a specific time. At first, we disappeared into Europe. He explained to me on the plane ride over that the Family his father reports to is a lot more sprawling than blood relatives, and they watch him most closely in New York. But they also have tendrils everywhere. It makes more sense, the king who was killed by his own adviser. According to Cassian, the Family had representatives there, too.

  I asked him why we were getting so close. It felt like we were flying right into danger.

  “Keep your enemies closer,” he said. “Besides, they won’t think to follow me around Europe. Now that my brother is in charge—” His face darkened at that, and I reached for his jawline, running my fingers over his skin.

  “I know.”

  “He’s not who I would have chosen.” I didn’t need to spend a long time with Lysander to know that what Cassian did out of duty, Lysander would do out of cruelty. It won’t be long before the business collapses under the weight of his thirst for power and pain. When that happens—

  When that happens, we’ll worry about it. Until then, Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot behind me.

  “Yes. There is someone I’d like you to meet.”

  A thrill of excitement centers at the back of my neck, but it’s tempered with wariness. “You’re not joining the Family, are you? This isn’t—”

  He laughs, a low rumble that sounds like desire. “No. I would only do that in the most drastic of circumstances. And standing on a balcony with you, precious thing, is not a desperate circumstance.” He pauses. “I only wanted to make sure you were relaxed before our...meeting.”

  I don’t know what this could be about. He told me his father returned to the fold of the Family years ago, then died of a heart attack, so it can’t be that kind of introduction.

  He lifts his wrists in front of both our faces. “We should go down.”

  We go out of the little apartment with its fine furniture and down to the street level of Rabac. Cassian looks both ways a
nd must see something that makes him comfortable. I’ve never caught a glimpse of the protection he’s hired, but that’s all right—I wouldn’t recognize them anyway. He rotates through the staff at different intervals. Then he turns right, following the street as it winds toward the bay.

  Rabac seems like a fairy tale name as much as Istria, but I know it’s more my fairy tale mood than anything else. Though the setting does quite a bit to encourage that image. The sparkling bay, the fishing village, the way we have to come up a steep hill each night to our villa. The streets aren’t too crowded with tourists in the spring, but the weather is warmer each day. Soon it will be summer.

  I’m about to ask Cassian if we’ll stay for the next season when he turns and enters the door of a little cafe tucked into a courtyard off the street. He turns back and extends his hand to me, and I take it.

  “Was meeting code for lunch date?” I’m still not over that, either. The fact that he can take me on dates. The fact that he wants to. How many women get to live two lives?

  “We’ll be having lunch.” He gives me a little half smile, and for the first time I realize he’s nervous.

  At the back of the courtyard is a table underneath an umbrella. I think Cassian’s going to walk right past it, but he stops. I’m behind him, waiting to see where he’s going, but when I lean around I see there’s a woman seated at the table in a flowing blue dress.

  She turns, and with a shock I recognize Cassian’s features on her face. The same nose, the same dark eyes, the same regal lines.

  Her eyes are brimming with tears.

  “My son,” she says, and then she rises on tiptoe and wraps her arms around his neck.

  His mother.

  I thought she was dead.

  It’s clear to me now.

  She was hiding.

  He was hiding her.

  This is the reason for everything—for the business, for the insistence on duty and protocol—everything.

  After a long embrace, he straightens, taking her by the elbow and stepping to her side. “Justice, this is my mother, Eline. Mama—” The word in his mouth squeezes my heart so tightly I can hardly breathe. “This is the love of my life, Justice Danes.”

  I see in her eyes that she understands everything, even without him saying a word.

  Eline comes forward and folds me in her arms. She smells warm and sugary, like the air around us, like safety. Like home.

  When she pulls back, she looks at me with joy in her eyes. “We won’t have much time, children,” she says, waving us to the table and shooting a meaningful look at Cassian. “For safety’s sake.”

  “I’ve taken all the steps—”

  “There are other events. You heard of the king.”

  The king. The king Lysander mentioned.

  “And the son,” she says, dropping her voice. “Exile.”

  “Surely that won’t touch us here.” Cassian sounds confident, but I’m not so sure.

  “We must watch the pieces on the board.” She reaches out and pats his hand. “But right now, we need to eat. And you must tell me everything. Start from the beginning. How did you find her?”

  Cassian looks at me across the table and takes my hand in his. “Life brought her to me against her will,” he says, his voice thick with meaning. “But then I couldn’t let her go.”

  * * *

  Thank you so much for coming on this intense ride with Cassian and Justice. If you’re looking for more of your world, don’t worry—I have something very special planned for you in 2019!

  In the meantime, there are more heroes waiting for you on the other side of Manhattan. While Cassian and Justice were swept up in the underworld of New York’s Elite, the men of my Wounded Hearts series are fighting for love in the harsh light of day. These military heroes have seen the best and worst of humanity…and they’d describe the women they love as better than the best.

  Meet Dayton Nash. He’s loved his best friend’s little sister since the day they met. She was completely off-limits…but love found a way. Until it didn’t.

  Now he’s back from the war. And in all the veteran’s support organizations in all the city, she had to walk into his.

  Don’t miss their epic love story in BEFORE SHE WAS MINE, available on Amazon and FREE in Kindle Unlimited now.

  * * *

  I drag my eyes away from the carpet and shove myself up out of the chair as some other guy makes his way past. I don’t let myself look until I’m upright in case it’s not her, in case it’s a hallucination I’d be better off ignoring.

  It’s not a hallucination.

  It’s really her.

  A different version of her. A gorgeous, grown-up version of her. Not the gritted-teeth version going too fast down Suicide Hill, snow and determination in her eyes, or the tomato-red mortified version standing alone at the corner of the school dance, but I’d know her anywhere.

  Anywhere is here. Right in front of me, saying my name.

  The strangest desire wraps its fists around my heart and squeezes. I wonder if her hair still smells like Pantene.

  My foot doesn’t hurt at all.

  One-click BEFORE SHE WAS MINE and start reading now!

  * * *

  Do New York billionaires strike your fancy? Read about the irresistibly intriguing men of the Purple Swan, starting with RICH BOSS, free for a limited time!

  And don’t miss my favorite sweet, angsty, hilarious single dad hero in OVER EASY, first in my laugh-out-loud Main Street Single Dads series! Read FREE today!

  You can also join my facebook group, Let’s Get Wilde, for exclusive giveaways and sneak peeks!

  Sign up for my newsletter to find out all about my new books and get an exclusive extended epilogue of Justice!

  I so appreciate your help in spreading the word about this book. It makes my heart so warm when you tell your friends about my stories! Help even more readers by leaving a review on your favorite site.

  Turn the page to read an excerpt of BEFORE SHE WAS MINE now!

  Author’s Note

  Dearest readers,

  Hello, and welcome to 2019! This is my first published work of the year, and the hardest one of my career so far to write. And while it’s written with all the Wilde love and style you’ve come to expect, I know the subject matter is a different from what’s come before.

  In a way, this is because the latter half of 2018 was not particularly kind to me in my personal life. Or my writing life, for that matter. This book was meant to be finished many weeks ago, but it was not. In fact, for several months, I didn’t write at all.

  At times I thought maybe I wouldn’t write again. I’d stare at the ceiling at night and consider the possibility that I should pack up my iPad and head for more temperate climes. Figuratively speaking, I mean, because I can’t actually move cities or states at the moment.

  In the end, I remembered why I started all this in the first place: because I love to write. I’ve always loved to write. I loved to write even when I did not know the basic rules of writing and started each word with a capital letter instead of each paragraph. (That was kindergarten. I had a lot to learn.)

  When I finally did write again, the book was…well, kind of dark. And actually it was quite a bit darker than I originally envisioned. They never even get to go out to dinner! It was, however, the one story that wouldn’t rest until it was finished.

  But it wasn’t a solo adventure, getting to the end of this book. Not by far. So I wanted to take a moment and thank the people who stuck with me when I was at my lowest.

  THANK YOU.

  To my author friends, a lot of whom have been with me since 2016 and entertained a lot of half-baked ideas while I tried to figure out what to do. I’m afraid to make a list here because I’ll forget someone and it’ll be devastating, but you guys are a lot more to me than names who pop up in chat or on my phone. I really didn’t want to let you down and you never gave up on me. Without you, I’d have taken my bindle and headed for the non-writi
ng hills. Special thanks for answering my messages even when I’m sure it was a drag. It’s fine—just write the books.

  To Willow Winters, for having the idea for Cards of Love in the first place and letting me be part of it. Being a member of such an awesome group is at least 50% of what kept me going, or at least made me start writing again. You couldn’t pay me to stay away (sorry)!

  To my editors, especially Kayla and Sara, who keep taking last-minute editing requests from me because I’ve spent too much time wallowing and left my writing until the very end, and who keep telling me they need my words in their lives.

  To Skye Warren, who gave me more advice and encouragement than I ever could have hoped for, and who organized Romance Author Mastermind 2018, which changed my life.

  To Becca Mysoor, who called me on the phone and made plans for me to get my work done and still kept calling even after I blew off all those plans to sulk and watch Netflix.

  To every single one of the authors who agreed to come to my release party and celebrate this book. Your kindness showed me that there is still a place for me here.

  To Kristin, who has answered between thirty and sixty texts that read what if I can’t do this??? with grace and compassion and replies that read you can and you will.

  To all my readers, who welcomed me back with open arms even after I disappeared for weeks on end. I write because of you.

  To Anna, who finished this book first of all my WildeCats, and to the rest of the WildeCats. You waited for me a long time. I can’t express my gratitude for your patience and your sharp eyes. And to my advance reader Queens and the Wilde Women of Let’s Get Wilde, your enthusiasm brightens my days. I hope you know how much.

  To my husband Josh, who listened to me sob about how I was ruining our lives, told me that I wasn’t, and brought me everything I wanted to eat on a moment’s notice. I’ve loved you since before you were hot, though I honestly can’t remember what middle school was like. You’re my second-chance hero and the reason I know that love can and does conquer all. Rumi says that out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there.