Page 55 of Justice

Molly sits her container down, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “You can do it that way, but you lose some integrity of the paper in the process. Not to mention, the paper has to be positioned dead on, and that is damn near impossible.”

“So what do you recommend?”

“There are two options; buying the paper from a place in Germany, or my personal favorite, making it myself.”

Justice recalled the time another inmate bragged about how her family paid all their bills from the counterfeit money she created on her home computer, depositing the cash into ATM’s, and then waiting a few days before pulling real money out. She was caught when she tried to pay for gas using one of the fake bills, instead of the real ones she had just pulled from the bank. Later, when she and Molly were alone, she told Justice the woman was more than likely caught because of the paper. Justice became intrigued, and Molly taught her everything she could about counterfeiting.

“What would you need from me to make the paper?” Drake questioned, clearing the empty boxes and placing them in the trash.

“A blank check, and the place with ventilation I mentioned earlier.”

Drake leaned against the counter beside his refrigerator, crossing his arms over his massive chest. He’d removed his jacket and tie when dinner was delivered, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to the middle of his forearms. Justice bit her lip at the line of ink peaking out from the edge of his shirt.

“No to the blank check, but we can agree on a monthly budget. I have a warehouse on the south side you can change to suit you. The apartment under mine is still included in the deal.” Flashing his eyes to Justice. “And if Justice wants to work with you, I’ll give you thirty-five percent.”

Molly and Drake shook hands, and for the first time since she’d seen her friend in prison, Molly held her head up high. “Justice, I love you too death, but today was a long day. Drake point me in the direction of this apartment and I will get out of y’all’s hair.”

Drake pulled a key from his pocket, handed it to Molly and gave her the code for the alarm. “Sometime tomorrow, I’ll take you out to the warehouse, so you can get started making it suit you.”

Molly and Justice hugged beside the elevator, Justice promising her she would let her know once they hear anything about Tymeless. Drake turned on the fireplace, pulling her tight against him on the sofa as they watched the snow fall outside. They sat in silence for several minutes, lost in one another’s touch, unable to believe the circumstances, which brought them together.

“You know, I spent four years behind bars, and I hate waiting.” Justice broke the silence, needing to clarify the emotions running around inside her mind.

“You?” Drake huffed, “I’ve yelled at the microwave for being too slow.”

Justice pushed herself up, turning her body toward Drake, the words on her tongue needing to be said before they went any further.

“Drake, I’m inherently broken. I’ve done things in my past, most of which I’m not proud of.”

“I…” Drake interrupts, but Justice places her finger over his lips.

“Please, let me say this, and if after you hear what I need to say you still want to be with me, then I’m all in.”

Drake remains silent, lacing their fingers together.

“For the past three years, I’ve worked in a private strip club, letting men touch me,” pointing to the scar on her chin. “And sometimes hurt me, so the warden could make money.”

Gripping his hands tight, “After the first year, I lost the ability to have an orgasm. You’re a handsome man, Drake, one who deserves a partner who won't feel the need to fake every time you crawl between her thighs.”

Drake pulled her back against him, “I knew about the strip club ten minutes after I learned your name. While it doesn’t thrill me to know you’ve been with other men, it isn’t a deal breaker. As far as your inability to come, it sounds like more of a challenge than an issue.”

Justice snuggled in closer, losing herself in the scent of him. “You up for a challenge like that?”

His chest shook with laughter, her head shot up the moment she clued into the double meaning of what she’d said.

“I’m serious, Drake. I can get wet as fuck when I’m turned on, I can masturbate for hours, but I can't reach orgasm.”

“If this is the biggest issue you have, then I’m absolutely up for the challenge. But you aren’t the only one with issues here. I’ve been relegated to mourning for the next eleven months. According to my priest, I’m to use the time to slowly move on from a woman whom I hated with a passion.”

“Tobias mentioned it. If you think about it, this could be a good thing.”

“How so? I can't slap a ring on your finger until the time is up. Which, granted, is not the conversation you have after knowing someone less than six hours, but I’m a man who knows what he wants. Justice, I want you.”

Justice straddles his lap, taking his face between her palms. “It’s good because it gives me time to reconnect with my sister, finish a list I started, and you eleven months to figure out how to make me scream your name.”

Drake pulled her hands from her face, fisting the back of her hair in his hand as he pulled her down into a searing kiss. Justice moaned as she melted into him, her tongue searching out his and getting lost in the taste of him. This is where she was destined to be, safe in the arms of a man who had the potential to heal her, refusing to allow her past to corrupt her future.

CHAPTERFORTY-ONE

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