Page 47 of Justice

Justice sat staring at the luxury jet, her once badass bravado gone, and a look of uncertainty written across her face. “I’ve never flown before.” She admits, reaching for his hand as he pops the trunk.

“Then you’re in for a treat, flying private is the best.”

Less than ten minutes later, the plane is taxiing down the private runway, Justice’s hand wrapped tightly in his. He’d sworn to her the takeoff was the best, yet as the engine noise grows loud and the nose of the plane lifts off the ground, her head is pressed back in the seat, and her knuckles are white from gripping his hand so tight.

“We’re in the air, you can open your eyes now.” Tobias leans over, whispering into her ear. Justice opens one eye and then the other, taking a look around her and out the window beside her.

“Oh my, God. That was incredible.”

“Told you.” He boasted, rising from his seat and heading for the bar.

“You were right, and I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Tobias grabs a beer from the fridge. “Want one?” He asks out of politeness and fears what his buddies back in Boston will say about his new manners.

“Yes, please,” she agrees eagerly. “You know, with all the excitement, I never asked where we are going.”

Tobias hands her a beer, taking the seat opposite her. “We’re headed to Boston to see my boss.”

“Drake, right?” She questions as she raises the bottle to her lips.

“Yes, Drake.” He confirms, tipping his beer back in a long pull.

“Does this Drake have a last name? Or is he a celebrity like Prince or Cher?”

Tobias nearly chokes on his beer. Drake is far from a celebrity, unless they were talking about Mayweather or Tyson.

“No, he has a last name. It’s Hannigan, Drake Hannigan.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-SIX

Justice could pictureMolly’s face as she sat across from her at breakfast, filling her in on the new inmate and her mafia boss husband. How she had a bad feeling about the girl and worried she was going to try to knock Justice from the top. Justice recalled how they made fun of her when the husband chose the car over hiring a good attorney, when all along he’d been tracking her. She doubted Molly would have ever thought Justice would be sitting on a private jet owned by Deidre’s husband, Drake. Yet here she was, on a one-way trip to Boston, complete with her certain death waiting for her at the end of a luxury ride.

Justice didn’t believe in coincidences, not when the list was as long as this one. She’d allowed the tunnel vision of finding Red to blind her from what was right there in front of her face. Playing right into their hands, she’d set herself up to take the fall for them, and then deliver herself on a fancy jet so they could do what, punish her for the death of his wife, Deidre?

“Justice, we have almost three hours before we land in Boston. I’m going to head back and get cleaned up. Help yourself to the bar and pantry, Carter keeps it stocked with all of Drake’s favorites.”

Tobias sends her a wink as he rises from his seat and makes his way down the aisle to the shiny wood door at the rear of the plane. Turning to her right, she leans her head against the window beside her, the flashing light at the end of the wing gaining her attention, its constant pulse like a countdown to the seconds she has left.

She wondered if she hadn’t mentioned Tymeless if Tobias would have discovered her anyway, sought her out as final payment for Red’s misdeeds. Maybe she could buy her sister a little time, feed Tobias and Drake the wrong information. As she looks down at the borrowed shirt, she thinks better of it, as they would certainly punish her sister for her trickery.

Several minutes pass, Justice wasn’t certain how many, when a freshly showered Tobias returns to his seat. His new appearance takes her by surprise and steals her breath. Gone was the scruff which gave him an edge, and he’d traded his cut and jeans for a suit and tie, the combination giving him a corporate and, dare she admit, sexy look.

“Shower is free if you would like to use it.” Tobias offered as he took his place across from her.

“I have nothing clean to change into, but thank you.”

Tobias’s eyes flashed to her stocking covered legs, having ditched the boots a while ago, their job finished, and she didn’t like the way they felt on her feet.

“There’s a robe back there, and I’ve arranged for someone to meet us at the runway with clothing for you.”

Justice cocks her head, the oddity of his statement too much for her to simply obey. “Why?”

Tobias shifts his position, crossing his ankle over the opposite knee, his cellphone in hand. “Because I can’t bring you to Drake looking the way you do.”

Justice is well aware of how bad her appearance is, yet she can’t help but react to his implied jab. “What, does Drake sit on some fashion board? Is he the director of the morality police? I highly doubt he has an issue with strippers, given his position.”

His brows knit in the center of his forehead, his eyes darken as he stares intently at her. “Drake will have no issues with whatever you choose to wear, or if you were a stripper. The issue doesn’t lie with him, but with the church, as they have placed him in mourning.”

---