Chapter Nine
“This is some fantastic spaghetti.” Justice was lying his ass off, but for a noble reason.
“No, it isn’t.” She punctured a scorched meatball with her fork.
“Course it is.”
He chomped on a crunchy piece of pasta and did his damndest to look happy about it. When a fella’s trying to impress a lady, he goes out of his way to compliment her, and he wanted Etta to like him. Besides, Justice loved sitting at her kitchen table, eating the food she’d made for him, even if it was nearly inedible. The domesticity felt downright comfortable.
I could get used to this.
She beamed, and his heart stopped pumping for a split second.
“You’re bein’ nice. Even on my best day, I’m a terrible cook, but it gets worse when I’m distracted. I managed to screw up reheatin’ frozen meatballs and boilin’ pasta.”
She’d somehow charred the meat, while the sauce was lukewarm. It wasn’t like his friend Voodoo’s down home cooking, but parts of it weren’t too terrible.
“Hey now, I was in the military, so this is like a four-star gourmet meal in comparison to their grub.”
“Yeah?”
“Trust me. They used to serve us shit on a shingle.” He could still taste it in the back of his throat—fatty undrained beef, sprinkled with powdered milk, tap water, and half-cooked flour.
“Doesn’t sound too appetizin’.”
“It wasn’t. Picture hamburger gravy on nearly stale bread.” His stomach clenched. “But compared to food in the field, it was amazin’. You don’t know the horror of an MRE.”
“MRE?”
“Meal, Ready to Eat. Rations they gave us in Afghanistan. The chicken fajitas were awful.” He’d rather eat grass than put that gunk into his mouth. “Although, in my dad’s day, they had it even worse. They called frankfurters the four fingers of death.”
Justice’s father had been a naval officer, and so had his granddad before him. Going into the Navy had been a foregone conclusion from the time he’d been a little boy. The day Justice graduated from training, his father had been so proud of him. And if his grandfather had lived to see it, he would’ve been excited, too.
“So see? This is much better chow.” He munched on some more noodles, and Etta took his plate away.
“Stop, you don’t have to eat it. I’m gonna make us some PB&Js instead.” She busied herself smearing peanut butter and jelly on bread.
Pretty Boy and Ace had told him all about the incident at the post office, and he was itching to know more, but he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Like him, Etta had been through an ordeal, and the last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.
“Geez. I can practically hear you thinkin’ over there. I know you wanna ask me about Grady.”
“Well, since you brought it up.”
Etta sat down across from him once more and handed him a sandwich on a paper plate, before taking a bite of her own. He waited for her to begin, but she ate instead.
“Let’s start somewhere easier. When did you get married?”
“It was a long time ago. I’d just turned eighteen at the time.”
Justice set his jaw. “He was your high school sweetheart, then?”
“No, Grady was in college, when I was in high school. I met him at my afterschool job, at the library. Grady was smart, handsome, and a bit older. I remember thinkin’ how classy he was—Grady was all charm with a silver tongue, and I fell for it.”
“You were young.”
“And foolish.” She expelled a deep breath. “I used to be so involved in school—in the band, a member of key club, and we did all these service projects. Before I met Grady. I was a straight-A student takin’ advanced placement classes. That all ended the spring of my senior year. It’s like I couldn’t see anythin’ else but Grady.” She shook her head. “I wanted him in my life, and I made so many concessions to get him. I dropped out of all my clubs, my grades fell. I applied to colleges, but Grady said they were so far away, and didn’t I want to be with him instead? And I let it happen.”
Justice didn’t comment. As far as he was concerned, Grady had the problem, not her.
“Tell me how you met him.”
“At first, I thought Grady was a hero type. I was working late one night, when this jock asshole, Tommy, wouldn’t leave me alone. I was never popular, more into books than boys. I must have been some kind of challenge to Tommy, but I couldn’t figure out the appeal. Anyhow, one night the jerk caught me unaware while I was out in the stacks. It was a big library with these enormous bookshelves which were around six feet tall so nobody could see us. Anyway, he grabbed my ass and then put his tongue down my throat.”
“And Grady stepped in and put a stop to it? So he came off lookin’ like a great guy.”
“Yeah, if only I’d known what he had in store for me, I would’ve run away screamin’. But back then, I thought he was the love of my life. It all happened really fast. We started datin’ and then we were engaged. We got married graduation weekend. It was no big thing, we went to the courthouse and then had cake at my parent’s place. They both wanted me to wait for a while so we could do it up right, but Grady said we should get hitched right away.” She frowned. “It should’ve been a clue.”
The bastard had probably wanted her under his thumb, as soon as possible. From what he had read, which wasn’t much, abusers hurried their victims into relationships straight away. The fool had gotten Etta to marry him, only to treat her like a punching bag. What a dickhead.
“Tell me more.” Justice wanted to let her guide the conversation. He only wanted to know what she felt comfortable sharing.
Etta put her peanut butter sandwich down, as though she had lost her appetite. She wiped her hands on a napkin, and then took a drink of water before she began.
“At first, it wasn’t so terrible. It started with verbal abuse, which hurt, but at least it wasn’t physical. He teased me, made fun of me, put me down in front of other people. It started real subtle, and then he got rougher. Once, he slapped me for mouthin’ off.”
Justice had never hit a woman, and had no desire to, under any circumstances.
“I don’t even recall what I said. We were out with friends at a backyard barbecue. He pulled me around the corner of the house, popped me one, and then told me to never disrespect him again. I was too stunned to say anythin’, and I didn’t wanna make a scene in front of our friends. Compared to what he did later, that one was a love tap.”
Grady had probably been sussing out her limits. Justice guessed he was trying to get a feel for what she’d tolerate. Those kind of men enjoyed pushing people’s boundaries, seeing what they could get away with, and Justice had seen them in action before. He’d been at the mercy of one himself.
“It got steadily worse—slaps, kicks, and he used a belt on me. I don’t mean a whuppin’ either.”
Justice had been switched as a kid. It had hurt, but he wouldn’t call it abuse.
“One day, about two months into our marriage, he slammed me into a wall, then tossed me on the kitchen floor. To this day, I’m not sure what else happened.” She rubbed the back of her head. “I woke up hours later, bloody and bruised.”
“Son of a bitch.” Yeah, Grady needs a beat down in the worst way.
She shifted in the chair. “It’s almost like once he put a ring on my finger, Grady felt like he owned me. He wanted me entirely dependent on him for everythin’, and I was in the end. When I left him, I had nothin’, just clothin’. Everythin’ was in his name— the car, the house, and I’d signed a prenup, too. His family had insisted on it.”
“His folks had money?”
“Very. His dad was a football star, and his mother was a stay at home mom. My family was just barely middle class, and both my parents worked at the local factory. Grady used the money to his advantage. He wooed me with presents and nice dinners.” She laughed without humor. “I thought it was some kind of modern-day fairy tale story, and he was my prince charmin’.”
“Instead, it was a nightmare.”
“Yeah, and I sacrificed my own dreams for him. Before I met him, I used to have such grand plans. I wanted to go to med school and become a psychiatrist.”
“But he talked you out of it?”
“Grady pressured me to give up school, pushed me to ‘take care of our home’ and preparin’ to be a lawyer’s wife instead.”
“Grady wanted to be a lawyer?”
“He wanted to be a bigshot, handlin’ high profile cases.”
“With his father’s connections, it probably would’ve worked.”
“Yes, but he’s been convicted of a felony now, and he blames me for robbin’ him of his future. Then again, Grady has trouble takin’ responsibility for anythin’. It was always somebody else’s fault, never his.”
“He sounds like a real bastard.”
“Believe me, he is. I used to make so many excuses for him. I thought it would get better if he weren’t under so much pressure, but it never did.”
“It wouldn’t have gotten any better.”
“Yep, I found out the hard way.” She glanced away.
Justice didn’t know what she had gone through exactly, but he recognized the concealment on her face, pain which was too intense to bear, so she buried it. In many ways, they were kindred souls. People who had survived the worst of circumstances.
“I’m sorry.” Nothing else he could say would make it any better.
“Thank you.” She swallowed. “I chose to stay with him, and after I got out, I couldn’t quite wrap my head around the reason why I hadn’t left earlier.”
“But now you know?”
“Eventually, I figured out what happened to me.” Etta bit her lip. “Have you ever heard about a frog and boilin’ water?”
Justice shook his head.
“This is gross, but if you toss a frog into a bubbling pot, it’ll jump out. If you put it in cool water and slowly turn the temperature up, it’ll cook to death. The abuse evolved over time, gettin’ steadily worse. And I didn’t realize until it was too late, that he was slowly killin’ me.” Tears glimmered in her eyes, and she wiped them away.
“Believe me, I understand.”
“He took things from me. Things I’ll never get back.”
Justice knew what she meant. He’d been one man before he’d been held as a POW, and another after he’d been rescued from the compound. No matter what he did, Justice would never be the same again. It had taken him a long time to accept it.
“I don’t see people the way I used to. I believed in kindness, but the world’s an ugly place. He took my self-esteem, my sense of safety, my faith in myself. By the time Grady got through with me, I was nothin’ more than an echo of my former self.”
Justice took her hand in his and kissed her knuckles.
Etta cleared her throat. “And I don’t know what I’m gonna do now.”
“You don’t have to worry because I’m gonna watch out for you.”
“I can’t ask you to guard me.”
“Well, I’m volunteerin’. I don’t want anythin’ to happen to you. Besides, I’m a professional bodyguard these days.” It’s all he seemed to do lately—keeping the ladies safe. “By the way, before I forget to mention, I’m also stayin’ the night.”
“Sure you wanna sleepover?” She wrinkled up her nose. “The couch is terrible.”
“Yeah, I know.” The last time he’d stayed over, his lower back had ached like a bitch the next day, but he didn’t give a shit. “Although, you could offer me a better place to sleep.”
“Don’t push your luck.” But she smiled, just like he’d hoped she would.
Justice was relieved to see a glimpse of her old self. She didn’t know it yet, but he’d eventually convince her to let him handle the Grady situation. And then Justice intended on teaching Grady the meaning of pain, something he was intimately familiar with.
***
That evening, Justice’s dreams took him back to the desert.
“Tell us what we want to know.”
“No, and you can go fuck yourselves for all I care.” At this point, Justice was driven by pure hate, rather than his survival instincts.
Justice rolled his shoulders and cracked his back. They’d just hauled him out of a steel box he’d been locked in for who knows how long. He could barely move in the damn thing, and he’d been forced to lay down the entire time.
It felt like a coffin.
“If you start talkin’, there’s a full meal and a hot shower in it for you.”
It was a simple thing, but after days, or weeks of being covered in his own filth, with a grumbling belly, it sounded like bliss. Justice hated this particular Taliban the most. While the rest of them had settled into the role of bad cop, this bastard tried to make nice with him, and he made Justice sick to his stomach.
The Taliban’s name was supposedly Mohammed, and he stood a bit under six feet tall with blue eyes, and a scraggly blond beard. He was the one who did all the interrogations since he spoke English.
To make matters worse, he was from the States. How could any self-respecting American be working for these assholes? With their feudal laws, a penchant for harboring terrorists, and actually stoning women to death like it was biblical times all over again.
“Pass.”
Justice had all sorts of valuable information, but he’d never give it up, not for anything. And when they were rescued, he’d reward himself with a long hot shower, a ribeye steak, a fluffy bed, and then he’d fuck a pretty girl…in that order.
When he wasn’t in the box, he’d been bunking with Bulldog, a guy right out of BUDS training. And by bunking, Justice meant the two of them had been sleeping on a concrete floor in a cell with only enough space for one man.
Bulldog had been assigned to their unit when one of the other guys had retired to pursue a private security job. The soldier was still wet behind the ears, but he hadn’t talked either.
At the moment, he had no fucking idea where they’d dragged him off to or what they were doing to him. Since he had a higher rank, Justice felt responsible for Bulldog.
“Come on. We both know the military isn’t looking for you.”
“Do we? Because if I were you, I’d be searchin’ for a deep, dark hole to slip into, and I got news for you, it still won’t save you. We’ll find your traitorous ass and haul you in anyhow.”
Because ‘Mohammed’ was a citizen, he had rights, rights Justice sorely wanted to violate.
“We shall see.”
“Yeah, we shall, dickhead. What’s your real name anyway? It can’t be ‘Mohammed’ because you are the whitest white boy I’ve ever seen.”
His face darkened. “It’s Mohammed.”
“Nah, you seem like a Jeff to me. That’s what I’m gonna call you from now on. Jeff.”
“You’ve been gone for a month, and no one has come running.” The man got in his face, smirking and overconfident. And Justice knew he was getting to good old Jeff. He liked getting underneath his skin, for a change. “Perhaps they’ve forgotten about you.”
A month. It felt longer, then again, perversely, it seemed like a shorter amount of time. Time made no sense here.
And who’s to say Jeff wasn’t screwing with him, anyway? He got his jollies torturing people, for fuck’s sake.
“On second thought, I’ll tell you somethin’, after all.”
“Yes..?” He gave a triumphant smile. “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll see to it that you spend tonight in comfort.”
“When they do come for me, and they will, I’m gonna ask to borrow one of their guns.”
“Will you?” He was sneering, like this was all some sort of joke. Justice had never been so earnest in his life.
“Yeah, I’m thinkin’ maybe a handgun, somethin’ more personal.” Justice pictured it in his palm, the cold weight of the steel.
That’s when Jeff stabbed a knife into his thigh and Justice wheezed in pain.
Justice refused to scream. “Yeah, and then I’m gonna shoot you, right between the eyes. Because, as far as I’m concerned, you gave up your citizenship when you agreed to help these asshats. No jury in the land would convict me. Hell, I bet they’d throw me a parade.”
And if he had a camera, he might film it and put it up on YouTube, for the sake of posterity. It would get a million hits.
“Your plan all depends on one thing.” He slowly twisted the knife.
Justice gritted his teeth, and Jeff watched every expression on his face, as though drinking in his distress.
“And what’s that, Jeff?”
“If you’re still alive tomorrow morning.”
***
A harsh cry woke Etta up.
She sat up in bed, disoriented for a moment, and then she remembered Justice was in the next room, and clearly, he was in the throes of a nightmare. Again.
Etta hustled into the living room, to find him in his drawers once more. He’d flung the sheet off as he’d twisted and turned on the couch. His eyes were squeezed shut, a pained expression on his face.
“Justice?” She knelt by the couch, placing a hand on his chest.
He woke with a gasp, blinking for a second before his eyes lit on her. His gaze was wild-eyed and bewildered. Then he focused on her once more
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m used to sleepless nights.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
“Sounds like some of the things you buried are tryin’ to work their way to the surface.”
“Yeah, they aren’t lettin’ up.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, Angel, you ain’t the cause of them.”
“No, but I know what you’re goin’ through. I’ve had my own nightmares, you know.”
“Really?” He moved over so she could sit beside him.
Etta tried not to think about what little clothing they both wore. She should be ashamed of herself. Sex was probably the very last thing on his mind.
And it should be the last thing on yours, too.
“Yep, but we should talk about yours.”
He glanced away.
“Come on. I told you some of my story. It’s only fair that you return the favor.” Etta wanted to know more about him. “Don’t hold back with me.”
“It’s a real ugly tale.”
“Yeah, well, mine ain’t exactly all fun and games either. We’re both screwed up.”
He snorted. “That we are.”
“So, I’m gonna use one of your tactics. Let’s start somewhere easy. Tell me about the men in your unit.”
Justice paused a moment. His eyes fell closed, and for a second she thought he might ignore the question, but he nodded, as though making some silent decision.
“They were good men, and we were close.” He scratched his cheek. “We ate together, bunked together, and watched each other’s backs. We practically lived in each other’s pockets for months at a time.” His voice was hoarse. “I miss them.”
“What happened to all of you?” She’d imagined all sorts of situations, each worse than the one before.
“It started as a typical mission. I can’t tell you what we were doin’ because it’s still classified, but I can give you the gist of it.” His tone was matter-of-fact. “We left the base at Jalalabad, and a roadside bomb outside of a tiny village went off. It overturned one of the Humvees, and then we were surrounded by the Taliban. And they started shooting at us.”
“It was a trap.”
“Yeah, and the Taliban were smart. They drew our fire and outlasted us. Before we knew it, we were out of ammo, and out of time.”
“What about drones or the air force?”
“There was no air support to speak of. At the time, we were bombardin’ another village. They knew it, too. We walked into an ambush.”
“And they captured you?”
His head lowered. “Yeah, and then they tortured us.”
She winced. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks, I know you understand.”
“Yeah, I do.” Etta wrapped an arm around him, and he leaned against her. “How long were you there?”
“Not long in the scheme of things. After we were rescued, I found out we’d only been there for three months, just three, but it felt like a fuckin’ lifetime.”
“I was married for four years, but it seemed like forty.”
Justice placed a hand on his thigh and then she noticed his leg was damaged, a puckered pink scar ran the length of it.
“They marked you for life?”
“Yeah, they wanted information, but I wouldn’t give it to ‘em. When I refused, they tried beating, and then cutting it out of me.” Justice rubbed his leg. “They didn’t have a medic, and I got gangrene. My buddy, Bulldog, sliced it open for me, so the puss could drain.”
Her stomach clenched. “I’m guessin’ you didn’t have anesthesia.”
“Nope. Not so much as a drop of whiskey either. I bit down on my shirt to stifle the scream while Bulldog saved my life and my leg.” He touched the wound as though Justice could still feel the ache.
Etta hadn’t felt this distressed, this vulnerable, in years. At this moment, she didn’t want to be alone, and she doubted Justice did either. They could comfort one another.
“Tell you what, why don’t you come to my bedroom?”
His eyes lit up.
“Woah. No, not like that. You’re cramped on this couch, and we’ve both been through hell. We’ll just sleep together, I mean,” she said, pausing to grit her teeth, “Lie beside each other and rest. There’ll be absolutely no sex.”
Yet she was thinking about it. A lot.
“Damn, for a second there, I thought I had you.”
Etta bit her lower lip. Her mind raced with all of the possibilities, too.
“Takin’ me up on the offer? Or do you wanna sit there and make jokes instead?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice, and I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” He raised a hand, as though taking an oath.
“Excellent. Follow me.”
Etta led him into the bedroom, and Justice took the right side of the bed. She always slept on the left, so it worked out. They both climbed under the covers. His big body filled up the space, saturated it, and her bed felt smaller, somehow, but cozier.
She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come. All she could think about was Justice lying next to her. When she rolled over to get more comfortable, she found him staring at her in the darkness.
Justice still looked tense
“Sure you don’t wanna try one of those relaxation techniques I mentioned last time?”
“Positive, but thanks.”
Maybe if I made it seem like he was doing me a favor?
“Okay, but it’s a purely selfish offer on my part. I don’t want you to wake me up again.”
He cupped her cheek. “There’ll be no more bad dreams tonight if I’m lyin’ next to you.”
She shut her eyes, at a loss for words.
“You aren’t fallin’ asleep on me, are you?” His tone was teasing.
“No, I’m awake.”
“Then let me tell you another thin’. You don’t gotta worry. I’m keepin’ my hands to myself, even if you beg me to give you an orgasm.”
The nerve. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I didn’t mistake how hard your nipples were, or how wet and hot your pussy got for me when I touched you the other day.”
Etta felt her cheeks burn. They hadn’t talked about what he’d said yesterday, about pursuing her.
“Whose gonna beg?”
“Well, maybe we’ll both do some beggin’.” His voice dipped lower.
“Damn straight.” Etta giggled.
“I warned you that I’d pursue you.”
“I know.” Truthfully, she didn’t know what to say. “I’ve got a lot on my plate with Grady…”
“Yes, and you’re probably a little gun shy, but I’m willin’ to bide my time. Although, you should know somethin’.”
“Hmm?”
“I might be actin’ the part of the perfect gentleman, but my thoughts won’t be.”
Her mouth went dry. “They won’t?”
“I’ll be thinkin’ about spreadin’ you wide open and licking you until you scream for me. I got pretty damn close last time. I almost had you on my tongue, Angel.”
For a moment, she was flabbergasted and unable to think of anything else but Justice’s mouth on her, tasting her. Etta squirmed, as a rush of wetness gushed between her thighs.
“Oh, um, well, good to know.” Etta shivered. “Uh, we should sleep.”
“Nighty night.” His tone was positively smug.
Arrogant, irritating, sexy biker.