Loving Justice (El Camino Real Book 2)

by Hunter, Sable

  Did she dream the night before? No, she could feel the evidence of his loving on every inch of her body. Her breasts were swollen and sensitive from his sucking on her tender nipples. Even now she could feel them tingling. Charlee sighed with the memory, lifting her fingers to brush her lips, which were abraded and puffy from his kisses. Arousal warmed her…if she had time, she’d crawl back in the bed and make him proud he was a man. God, she could get used to this. Charlee pressed her thighs together. Her clit was achy and needy. It wanted Justice, all of her did.

  As she caressed him with her eyes, her gaze slipped down his body. The sheet was riding low on his body, and she could see his manhood. It was only half erect, but impressive as hell. Charlee covered her hot cheeks with her palms, remembering how it had felt—stretching, pleasuring—he’d fit every inch of that rock hard flesh inside of her. “Ummm,” she whimpered, her pussy growing wet at the thought. Justice had taken her with such force the bed shook. She’d never known such pleasure was possible. With a smile, she wondered when they could do it again. All he’d have to do was crook his finger and she’d spread her legs for him. Charlee would never deny him anything.

  Glancing at the clock, she saw it was nearing six. “Time to go, my love.” Her world had taken a complete one-eighty. Today, everything was new. She bent and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you.”

  Justice shifted in his sleep at the touch of her lips. “Zelda…”

  She jerked up so quickly, she almost got whiplash. Zelda? God, no. Surely he didn’t think she was Zelda! Had he been dreaming of Zelda? After making love with Charlee, had he been thinking of her?

  The ramifications of what she’d done swamped Charlee like a tidal wave. She’d thought this was a new beginning, that they were starting over. She’d thought he finally realized what they shared was special. That she was more than just a tomboy, his old friend. Covering her eyes, Charlee almost wept with shame. She’d given her virginity to Justice. Further remorse hit her when she realized they hadn’t used any kind of protection.

  Horrified, she ran from the house. Almost blinded by tears, she hurried through the woods, praying to get to her room without running into her father. As she entered the yard, she saw that she’d miscalculated. Curtiss Parker was standing in the garden, watering his tomato plants. Her tearing through the leaves hadn’t gone unnoticed. “So, I was right,” he said icily. “I always knew you were playing the whore for that King boy.”

  “Dad!” His railing and accusations were the last thing she needed. “It wasn’t like that.” Charlee couldn’t handle anymore right now, not after hearing Justice moan another woman’s name in his sleep.

  “So, how is it? Tell me.”

  She tried to walk by him, but he grabbed her by the arm, yanking her to a stop. “Don’t.” She protested. “He needed me. He was worried about Abby.” Even if she was hurting, she couldn’t deny that.

  “His sister will suffer, you will too.” With that dire declaration, he slapped her right across the mouth. Hard!

  Charlee cried out, completely involuntarily. “Justice!”

  “That boy doesn’t care anything about you. If he did, he wouldn’t have dropped you like a hot potato. The jerk wasn’t even man enough to see you home. Get in the house and shower his scent off of you, you stink!” He pushed, and Charlee stumbled.

  His words hurt, especially since some of them rang true. God, she hated Curtiss Parker. “I wish you weren’t my father,” she sobbed. “Justice is…” She pressed her lips together, not knowing what to say. Charlee was so confused.

  He laughed, throwing his head back. “I’m not your father. Some stinking half-breed is. You’ll never know how I wish I’d never laid eyes on you. It wasn’t me who wanted you, it was Mary. And then look what you did, you killed her. I sacrificed for you, and this is how I’m repaid.” He spat the words out at her.

  “All you ever gave me was loneliness, pain, and guilt. You never loved me.” Charlee ran, wishing she never had to stop.

  Brokenhearted, she crept around the house, cleaning herself up and changing clothes. Flashes of what she’d done with Justice kept entering her mind. Why had he whispered Zelda’s name? Had he imagined she was Zelda as they were making love? With a low groan, she threw herself on her bed and jerked the pillow over her head. Maybe it was an accident, maybe he was dreaming something else about Zelda, a memory from school or that pageant they’d all been in. Anything was better than Justice wishing she was Zelda.

  Dragging herself from the bed, she smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes. Her father hadn’t come upstairs. For that she was grateful. How she wished she could find out who her real parents were. She’d asked several times, but Parker always ignored her. Why he didn’t just tell her, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if she was of any value to him. If she could locate her real family, Charlee would contact them in a heartbeat.

  Throughout the years, the Kings had begged her to go to the authorities and report Parker for abuse. She’d refused, there was no way she could ever leave Bronco, not because she didn’t want to leave her home or her father. The truth was Justice was here. She couldn’t bear to leave him. But now…she didn’t know if she could bear looking him in the face again.

  When the time came, she mechanically went downstairs and opened the doors for business. Several people showed up, most with things as uncomplicated as a bad cold or the flu. Charlee stayed out of his way as much as possible. When lunch came, he barked at her to go pick him up a sandwich. She took money from the cashbox and headed out, grateful to get away.

  Charlee thought about calling Justice, but she had no idea what to say. How did one ask what a night of sex had meant to them? Surely he would contact her. Charlee looked at her cheap cell phone, making sure she hadn’t missed any calls. No, she hadn’t.

  The walk from the clinic to the diner only took about seven minutes. She kept her head down, embarrassed that she now wore a fresh bruise across her lips. If anyone asked, she’d tell them she walked into a door. It had been a long time since this had happened. She was ashamed. Charlee was older now, an adult. She didn’t intend to live like this any longer. What she would do, though, she didn’t know.

  Reaching the diner, she stepped back to let a couple with a baby exit before she entered. Smells of hamburgers and French fries wafted on the air. “What can I get you, Charlee?” Wanda asked with a grin. She’d been the chief cook and bottle washer at the diner for as long as Charlee could remember.

  “A steak sandwich to go.”

  “Is that all?” she asked, knowing Charlee wasn’t getting anything for herself. “Not hungry?”

  “Add a vanilla malt to the order.” She gave Wanda a tentative smile, her fingers going up in front of her mouth. She was self-conscious.

  “Sure thing. Want a piece of ice for that lip?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “It doesn’t hurt much, I walked into a door.”

  Wanda nodded somewhat sadly. “Just sit down and rest, I’ll have this out to you in a jiffy.” Charlee followed her suggestion and found a table by the window where she could watch the crowd go by. It wasn’t but a few seconds before her heart leapt into her chest. “Justice!” she whispered. He pulled his truck right up to the front and climbed out. She raised her hand in a shy greeting. How had he found her?

  Justice waved back, but it was that wave she didn’t like. He sliced his hand through the air as if he were pushing someone, her, away. She held her breath, but he didn’t come right in. Instead, he looked up the street as if he was waiting on someone. If it was like old times, Charlee would’ve run out to greet him. But those days were gone and last night had just complicated things. She kept her eyes on him. The expression he wore didn’t seem to be one of a man elated to see his lover, the one who had gifted him her innocence—he looked…bored.

  Finally, she breathed a sigh of relief when he turned to come inside. Now they’d straighten things out. He’d ask her why she’d left so quickly and tell her how much he�
��d enjoyed being with her. He would ask to see her again and be concerned about the place on her lip. And when she told him what had happened, he would get up and go deal with her father. Maybe he’d even insist she come stay with him. After all, things were different now. Charlee sat up a little straighter, adjusting her skirt. Why hadn’t she checked her face? She should’ve put on a little powder and lipstick, especially since her mouth probably looked like she’d been stung by a bee.

  “Hey, Charlee,” he spoke with an offhand smile, then promptly walked past her and sat at another table.

  Charlee’s mouth dropped open and her heart sank. He wasn’t going to sit with her? And two seconds later, she knew why. Laughter at the front drew her eyes, and she saw Toby enter accompanied by a tall, blonde, stacked vision of Southern charm. Zelda. Zelda, the mayor’s daughter, the one who had made her attraction to Justice and her contempt for Charlee crystal clear over the years. The one whose name had been on his lips this morning. Justice had dated her a few times too. A flat-chested tomboy like herself could never hope to compete with this…this…

  What had she been thinking? Charlee ducked her head as Toby and Zelda walked by her and straight to Justice’s table. And when Zelda bent over and planted a long, deep kiss on her Justice’s lips, Charlee nearly died. She should have jumped up and bitch-slapped her slutty mouth, and she would have, if Justice hadn’t clasped her around the neck and kissed her right back! Charlee must have looked as shocked as she felt because Toby sneered at her with a knowing smile. It was as if he knew her heart was breaking!

  She stood, hesitating, willing Justice to do or say something that would make sense. They had spent the night in one another’s arms, they had made love!

  Nothing.

  Several people were watching, it was almost as if they knew what was going on. And they probably did. In a small town like this, everybody knew everyone’s business. All of these folks had seen her and Justice grow up together. They all knew how close they’d been. They all knew she’d worshipped the ground he walked on. And they all knew when he’d eased her out of his life. After all, they saw that damn water tower every day.

  Charlee tried to smile at the gawkers, but she couldn’t. She felt paralyzed. Putting one foot ahead of the other, she started to walk the long mile to the counter to pay for the food Wanda was holding aloft as she called out her name. “Parker, order’s up!”

  Behind her, she could hear Justice and his friends talking. “How’s your sister?” Zelda asked.

  “On the mend,” Justice answered.

  “We drove to Austin to see her a few minutes yesterday. Your mom looks like she’s been through the wringer,” Toby continued. “Where were you? What were you doing last night?”

  Justice laughed. “Nothing important. Had a few drinks, then went home and crashed.”

  “You should have called me,” Zelda purred. “I would’ve kept you company.”

  “I should have,” Justice agreed.

  “That’ll be six-fifty,” Wanda said. Charlee’s fingers felt too big to fit into her wallet. Her mouth was dry. She was completely shaken. Was he serious? Either he didn’t remember or he wanted to forget. Either way, one thing was clear. She wasn’t needed here.

  “Bye, Charlee.” Zelda’s voice sounded above the crowd.

  “Yea, see you later, Parker. Enjoy your lunch.” Toby chimed in.

  “Leave her alone,” Justice drawled, but then he said something under his breath, and they all laughed out loud. Charlee froze. She was so angry and so hurt. There was no way she could let this pass. Whirling around, she marched back to where they were lounging at a round table, each good-looking in their own way. They all glanced up, surprised to see her joining them. “What’s up, Charlee?” Justice asked.

  “I can see you are. How did you sleep last night?” Sarcasm dripped from her words. She didn’t let him respond. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re a jerk. I don’t know why we were ever friends. You never deserved me, and I hope I never have to see you again as long as I live.”

  To tell the truth, they all looked stunned. The floor-mat had finally spoken up in her own defense. A wave of mortification propelled her out the door. She walked quickly, not waiting to see if Justice stood or tried to call her back. Out the door and down the street she went, running in the opposite direction from her home. Charlee fled, dumping the food into the nearest garbage can. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she raced down the sidewalk, trying not to scream. Blindly, she turned down the first street she came to and lost herself in a group of people coming from a funeral at the Baptist church on the corner.

  Desperate to be alone, Charlee ducked into the church and sat down on the back pew. Everyone was gone except the attendants moving the flower arrangements from the front of the church to the vans waiting to take them to the cemetery. She bowed her head so they wouldn’t notice her. As quietly as she could she sobbed, her shoulders moving with each wrenching breath. Over and over again, she replayed the words Justice had said. He’d done nothing important last night. Nothing important.

  Her stomach was rolling in sick realization of what he must be thinking. Or was he just too drunk to remember what they’d shared—the kisses, the touches, the way she’d clung to him, how she’d whispered his name when she came. Nothing important. With those words, he’d ripped part of her soul from its moorings.

  How long she sat there, she didn’t know. When she rose, it was daylight no longer. The truth was sad. She was nobody. She was nothing. Nobody wanted her. Curtiss Parker, her adopted father, didn’t want her. Justice didn’t want her either. If she found her real mother, how would she feel? Had she not wanted her either or had she been too young to keep her? The question was eating her alive.

  Not knowing what else to do, Charlee returned to the clinic. Still crying, she fought back the anger and the pain. Realization of the stupid mistake she’d made with Justice was pounding in her head like a drum. Clutching her arms around her waist, Charlee walked through the yard. Her feet were sore, she had blisters on the back of her heels because she hadn’t stopped to put on hose this morning.

  The house was dark, her father was gone. If he was hitting her again, he was probably drinking again also. Panicking a little at the thought, Charlee wanted to leave, she had to leave. There was nothing for her here. She couldn’t live in the same house as her father anymore. Now was her chance for a fresh start. Should she just go to the bus stop and buy a random ticket? Or should she try to find something—anything—about her past?

  Switching on the lights, Charlee boldly walked into his office. The old bastard kept everything. If something existed that could give her a clue to who she was and where she’d come from, Curtiss Parker would have a copy of it. Methodically, she started going through files, drawers, file cabinets, and the desk. She wasn’t neat about it either. Without care, she tossed things to the left and to the right. Let him clean it up for a change. “Please, please, please,” she chanted until she finally found a file with her name on it. It was stuffed behind a drawer, bent and stained. Still, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. With shaking hands, she plopped down at the desk and opened it up.

  Quickly, she read, then she reread and reread again. Mother, Dawn Cortez. Father, Santino Cortez. The address was Pine Ridge Reservation, South Dakota. The lawyer’s name was Pete Sheldon and there was a phone number. And the baby’s name—her name—was Cha’risa Cortez. Cha’risa. Keeping her eyes on the paper, her heart rate through the roof, she fumbled for the phone and placed the call.

  One ring, two, three.

  “Shepherd and Associates, may I help you?”

  “Ah, hello. This is Charlee Parker, uh, Cha’risa Cortez, I guess. You handled my adoption. I found the information, and I need to talk to you. I want to know if my real parents would have any interest in meeting me.”

  * * *

  Charlee offered no explanations to Curtiss Parker. She kept her door locked and stayed out of his way. A young lawyer
by the name of Hampton Forbes drove down from Dallas and met with her at his motel room. He verified her identity, then explained everything as best he could. To Charlee’s surprise, Mr. Forbes had been kind.

  Now, she was packing. Hampton was coming after her. He’d explained that Pete Sheldon was dead. His practice had been acquired by Hampton’s firm, Shepherd and Associates, and what Charlee/Cha’risa learned literally blew her mind. Her father was dead, but her mother was still alive. She’d been wrenched from her home while her mother had begged on her hands and knees to keep her.

  “Shepherd and Associates has learned of illegal and shameful practices in the area of adoption committed by Pete Sheldon.” She had listened, comprehending most of what he said. The shock was so great, Charlee had a hard time thinking. But one truth stood out loud and clear. She’d been wanted.

  What was most disturbing was the idea that people could manipulate others out of greed. The government paid a set fee to parents willing to foster a child, but they received double for a child with Native American blood. This bonus was too great of a temptation for some unscrupulous people who saw an opportunity to cash in on other’s problems. And if they couldn’t fill their foster homes and orphanages with children who were actually without parents and homes, then they created the illusion of that need, trumping up false charges and accusations against innocent, honest parents and stealing their children from their very arms.

  This had happened to Charlee. When she learned the truth, she cried.

  All of these years, she could have been in a home with a mother who loved her and wanted her. Instead, she’d lived with a man who despised her, blamed her for his wife’s death and hit her if she got in his way.