Page 33 of Justice

‘????’

‘Trust me, it’s all good.’

Pocketing his phone,Tobias turns back to his computer and types the name of the prison into the search engine. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Justice and the incredible story she told, but he was a skeptic by nature. While he knew the justice system was corrupt, it was hard to imagine it was as severe as the picture she painted.

Several links appeared as the water in the shower rained against the tile floor. He’d been mostly truthful when he told Justice he wasn’t going to be another user in her life. His main goal in being with her remained; getting Drake’s property back from Red and sending a message to anyone watching as to what happens when you fail to deliver to the Hannigan Family.

Tobias wasn’t an emotional person by nature, but as he read page after page, a lump formed in his throat, making it impossible not to feel an immense amount of sorrow for the girl who had been as innocent as the driven snow when she entered the prison gates. All the adventures teenagers experience as they begin to spread their wings in discovering who they are, ripped away.

He thought of his own sister and the handful of times she phoned him to come and rescue her from a bar when she’d had too much to drink or cried on his shoulder when the current man in her life disappointed her. Justice was alone in all of this, and he would hope if his sister were in a similar situation, there would be a guy to set the record straight. He was going to be that man for Justice.

Tobias slammed the computer shut as the water in the shower stopped and a fresh-faced Justice emerged wearing his shirt and a pair of jeans belonging to her.

“Feel better?” He questioned, the crack in his voice embarrassing him slightly.

A smile broke out across her lips as she dipped her head and a wall of wet waves hid her face. “Much, thank you.”

Clearing his throat. “Listen, I meant what I said about being straight with you and that includes telling you I checked out your story.”

Her head snaps up, eyes searching his as she mimics his stance. “Well, since you’re not tossing me out, I’m guessing you found what you needed.”

Grabbing his keys from the table, “All I can say, is the only justice served that day was when they handed you the pen to sign your name.”

As he reaches for the remote to turn off the television, the news story playing across the screen catches his attention. Increasing the volume, he listens as the blonde news anchor stares back at him. Her serious face switches to a live feed, where another reporter holds a microphone to her face, the red lights flashing behind them capturing his attention away from the reporter.

“Thank you, Olivia. As you can see from the scene behind me, investigators are on the scene at the Hide Away motel here off Route six, just outside the Atlanta city limits. The body of Glynn Stone was discovered when another guest reported an odd smell coming from the room rented by the deceased. If you recall, Glynn Stone was one of the officers arrested for his involvement in, what locals have labeled, Wardengate. I’ve spoken with the lead investigator, who tells Action News this is one of the worst crime scenes he has worked in his thirty-plus years with the department. While he won’t comment on the condition of the body, he does say they are looking for a male, or possibly a former lover of the victim who knew the whereabouts of his location. There are no witnesses at this time. Reporting live, this is Samantha Wilson, Action News 12.”

Tobias clicks the television off, glancing to his side where a somber-looking Justice stands staring at the blank screen.

“Come on, Ted Bundy, we have a meeting with the feds to get to.”

Tobias captures her hand but is met with resistance as he takes a step toward the door. As he takes in the wide eyes and gaping mouth of a girl who is about to bolt, he tugs on her hand, gently squeezing in reassurance. “Calm down, Justice. I own this fed, he ain’t gonna do anything I don’t allow him to do.”

Climbing on the bike, Tobias allows himself to enjoy the feel of Justice wrapped around him. Reaching down, he caresses the fingers interlaced over his abdomen, the thought of taking her back to Boston crosses his mind and the seeds of a plan begin to take root. It’s clear to him she can’t stay here, not with how badly she messed this Stone guy up. She would have an alibi in Boston, an iron-clad one no cop, no matter how intuitive he was, could break.

Drake won’t be a problem, especially if he alluded to her having a part in the death of Deidre. Hell, he would give her a job as a thank you for ridding him of the wife he never wanted, severing the ever-hungry mouths of her family trying to drain him dry.

He killed the lights and engine, allowing them to coast into the alley behind Marino’s house, the same path he’d taken the first time he snuck in here. Justice tensed behind him as the bike dipped and jerked over the gravel of the makeshift path.

Parking the bike behind the same crumbling wall as before, Justice jumped from the back, not bothering to wait for his hand to help her off. Adjusting the straps on her bag, she scanned the area, before taking her hair out of the tie she secured around the messy bun at the nape of her neck. Using the light from the streetlight two houses over, he watched as her dark tendrils fell and her porcelain fingers combed through the now dry curls. The scent of the hotel shampoo carried on the gentle breeze directly to his nose. He was rethinking allowing Drake to give her a job as this girl had crazy street smarts, and he had a feeling he’d only seen the tip of the iceberg of what she was capable of doing.

CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHT

Justice bouncedon the balls of her feet as she and Hawk, or rather Tobias, waited for this FBI agent to open the door. She didn’t trust cops, no matter what brand of shield they carried, they were all connected by a brotherhood. Molly had drilled that into her head with the stories she shared of her ex-husband, how his partners made it impossible to report the abuse she suffered.

When the door finally opened and the cop on the other side turned out to be the Vice President of Devils Disciples, the nerves creating butterflies in her stomach vanished. Gone was the apprehension of working with a card-carrying cop, in its place was the determination she had the second her toe crossed the threshold of the prison.

“You brought your hang around?” While she didn’t know this guy’s name, she recognized the disdain he wrapped the slang term with. Justice refused to sink to his level, she was playing a part, a temporary but necessary one.

“How about you put your eyes back in your head and back off my girl?” Tobias stood a few inches taller than the VP, and the way he carried himself was full of natural intimidation; the kind you didn’t need a gun or knife to back up. With her hand still in his, Tobias pushes past him pulling her directly behind him, crossing the room and sitting on the ratty recliner as if he had done it a million times.

“Perhaps you were too busy doing whatever, but this, ‘hang around’ as you call her, kept the attention of your boss all night.” Tobias tosses back; as he grips Justice around the waist, pulling her down to sit on his lap.

Recognition flashes in the VP’s eyes. “This is the chick in the hot pink wig?”

Justice grew tired of the pair speaking as if she were an inanimate object such as a lamp, and not a living, breathing human being. “The chicks name is Candy; not Hang Around, and not Girl.”

Tobias rubs the side of her ass, a half grin forming on his face as he leans into her. “You heard her, Marino.”

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