Hard Justice

by Lori Foster

  But rather than blast him, she laughed? Nice. Justice liked that reaction. He tangled a hand in her hair, saying, “Trust me, Armie’s done worse.”

  That only put her into a fit of giggles—until Justice murmured, “You taste good, Fallon.”

  With a sharp inhale, she stared at him and bit her lip.

  Renewed need clenched his guts. As much to himself as her, he said, “We have to get back to our seats.”

  “Right.” She looked away, smoothing her hair and shirt. “I guess that kiss was to help convince people we’re together?”

  Sure, and I got hard for the same reason.

  No, he couldn’t say that; it’d only make things worse.

  But because he didn’t have a good answer, and he didn’t want to outright lie to her, he kissed her again instead.

  This time he managed to keep it light and quick.

  “Sorry I embarrassed you.” With an arm around her, he steered her out of the alcove and along the wide hall to their aisle entrance. “Don’t ask me to apologize, though.”

  “Okay.”

  Justice frowned. She shouldn’t have been so damned agreeable. “Not for the kiss, I mean.”

  “I knew what you meant.”

  Damn it. “It was wrong to maul you like that, especially here and now, but—”

  “Justice, I’m not complaining.”

  No, she wasn’t.

  He didn’t know what to think about that.

  Talking became impossible as they squeezed through the crowds returning to their seats. He noticed Marcus and his cronies were again seated, now with drinks in their hands.

  Feeling more surly than ever, Justice looked at each of them. The same man who’d been eyeballing him earlier looked up to meet his gaze. The guy smiled, then lifted his drink in a mock toast.

  Justice continued to stare at him—until Fallon tugged on his hand to get him seated. There was a lot of ribbing from the guys as they waited for the next fight. Justice ignored them until he saw Fallon blushing.

  Then he tried to mean-mug them all—without much success.

  “Aw, he’s sensitive,” Denver said in a loud stage whisper.

  Armie grinned. “And damned indiscreet.”

  “Rude as hell, too,” Leese added, “because he hasn’t introduced me yet.”

  Fallon turned with a smile and took care of the introduction herself. For a few minutes she and Leese talked about the bodyguard business. Justice thought about Marcus and wondered how he could get the names of the men with him.

  When Tom came up to him, he almost groaned with frustration, especially when Tom took the seat beside him.

  “Good night of fights, so far.”

  “Yeah,” Justice agreed, not exactly in a chatty mood.

  Tom elbowed him. “Makes you want to get back in it, doesn’t it?”

  “No.”

  “Bullshit. It’s in your blood, Justice.”

  Used to be. But now? He had so many other things on his mind that he—

  Tom thwacked him hard on the shoulder. “Give me the word and I’ll talk to the powers that be. They already promised they’d set us up quick. And you know fans would love it.”

  Justice tried ignoring him.

  “Your little lady would love to see you compete.”

  Sitting back in his seat, Justice said, “Ain’t happening. Let it go.”

  “Can’t, man. You’re part of the plan and you know it.”

  “Get a new plan.”

  Tom grinned widely, but the annoyance was there in his eyes. “Fallon, honey, wouldn’t you like to see Justice in the cage?”

  Being drawn into the discussion caused her to falter, but not for long. “Justice can make his own decisions.”

  “But you’d like to see it, right? Or maybe you don’t, considering how badly he’ll lose.”

  She took the bait, saying, “Maybe I’ll just watch the fight where he already knocked you out.”

  “I have it recorded,” Armie said. “You’re welcome to it.”

  “That was a fluke,” Tom scoffed. “If Justice was really so damned cocksure, he’d have already given me a rematch.”

  Armie laughed. “If you want to stick with that fluke story, a rematch is a bad idea.”

  “You chicken?” Tom leaned around Justice to see Fallon. “Normally I wouldn’t believe that of him, but since he’s dodging me...”

  Justice took Fallon’s hand to stifle her denial. “Believe what you want, but I’m still done.”

  Finally Tom’s smile slipped. “Damn it, man. I can’t accept that.”

  Justice looked him in the eyes. “That’s your problem then.”

  Fallon glanced anxiously from one man to the other. Justice gave her hand a squeeze to let her know he wasn’t bothered. But, yeah, that was a lie. Tom got to him—not enough to make him backtrack, though.

  Just enough to make him want to throw a punch.

  Then he saw the guys with Marcus watching with interest. No way could they hear anything being said, not from that distance, but body language alone probably showed a conflict, and it had caught their interest.

  Tom said, “I’ll give you half my pay.” Then with quiet force, “Take the fucking fight.”

  Fed up, Justice half turned to face him. “Your ego wants to fight, but here’s a news flash for you—I don’t give a shit about your ego, so leave me the hell alone.”

  Tom looked surprised for just a moment, then his face split with a grin. “I’m wearin’ you down, buddy, I can tell. No, don’t start gnashing your teeth. I’ll let it go—for now.”

  Luckily the music started as fighters made their entrance with deafening fanfare. This was the start of the main card with a lot of fan favorites competing.

  Fallon held his hand and listened intently to the introductions. Leese, he noticed, kept a sharp watch everywhere else.

  Did he feel the same thing Justice did? It must have been catching, because by the end of the fight, Armie and Denver were also more alert.

  Something was happening, Justice only wished he knew what.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE EXCITEMENT WAS CONTAGIOUS, and although Fallon didn’t know any of the athletes, out of loyalty she cheered for whomever Justice preferred.

  The competitions proved more thrilling than she’d ever imagined possible. Bloody, yes. Brutal, no question. But she noted a mesmerizing fluidity to the defense and offense of each fighter. It didn’t take her long to understand the styles and to recognize when a fighter wanted to stay on his feet versus preferring a ground game.

  She was glad they had the “good seats,” given how many people milled around going for more beer. She found it very distracting even though they weren’t passing in front of her.

  Denver leaned toward her ear to ensure she’d hear him. “Too many people are here without any real interest in the fights. But you seem to be enjoying them.”

  “Oh, yes, definitely.” Secretly, she kept imagining Justice competing and, each time, a secret thrill unfurled inside her. Then again, the brush of his arm against hers, the way he smiled, also affected her.

  She watched as he shouted suggestions and enacted them from his seat. He’d twist, tighten and duck as if he, himself, were in the fight.

  Studying his profile, she asked, “Do you miss it?”

  He glanced down at her. “What?”

  “Competing. I know you said you didn’t, but—”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted with a crooked grin. “But I have no intention of going back, so don’t tell Tom or he’ll be even more relentless.”

  Fallon didn’t know Tom well, but she assumed, from what she’d seen so far, he’d be relentless anyway. If he ever did get Justice back in the cage, she’d put
her faith in Justice every time. His modesty didn’t matter. There was an amazing quiet confidence about him that she found incredibly appealing.

  And good heavens, he knew how to kiss.

  Just thinking about it now made her lips tingle and left her a little breathless.

  She was so lost in daydreams, she almost missed a submission. When everyone surged to their feet, she shook off the sensual haze and jumped up, too.

  Oh, it was awful!

  She might have screamed...but then the referee called the fight and she watched as the poor guy who’d just gotten his arm cranked bounded to his feet with a low curse—before slapping his opponent on the shoulder.

  Justice slipped his arm around her waist. Amused, he said, “You’re on the squeamish side.”

  She made a face. “I thought his arm would break.”

  Tom leaned around Justice to say, “It happens on occasion.”

  Dear God. She blanched. “You’re joking.”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m glad that didn’t happen tonight.”

  “One more fight to go,” Justice said. “But Stack’s pretty good at avoiding submissions.”

  Tom stood. “I’m running out for a drink. Either of you want anything?”

  Justice shook his head and Fallon said, “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

  With a nod, he left.

  A few minutes later Armie returned and leaned forward, his arms braced on the back of her and Justice’s seats. “So Tom knows your...friend?”

  Fallon half turned. “My friend? Who?”

  Armie tipped his head toward where Marcus had been sitting, but now the seats were empty.

  Justice scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Tom’s out there with the three of them, chatting like they’re old pals.”

  “The hell you say!” Justice surged to his feet before Fallon could stop him.

  He’d only taken two steps when the intro music started for Stack’s fight, making him hesitate. And then Marcus and his friends reentered—but not with Tom.

  “Justice,” she said, hooking her fingers over the back pocket of his jeans, which was the only part of him she could reach. “Why do you care?”

  As he slowly turned to face her, the chilling anger left his eyes, replaced by something else. Something far from chilly.

  His gaze shifted to her hand on his butt pocket, then to her face with a raised brow.

  Armie started snickering. “Dude, you are in a bad way.”

  He’d had to shout to be heard over the music, and that got the attention of the other guys, who all started in with outrageous comments about their buddy being molested.

  When she started to retreat, Justice laced his fingers with hers and stared toward Marcus and the others. He ignored his friends’ provoking comments.

  Finally Tom rejoined them, empty-handed, she noticed.

  Justice didn’t remark on it, but he was still scowling when he claimed his seat again.

  Leese leaned past her to ask him, “What are you thinking?”

  “That something’s going on.”

  Fallon looked back and forth between the men. “What are you talking about?”

  New music blared, and then Stack and his entourage, led by Cannon, entered the arena through a side door and all conversation died as the men raucously shouted for their fighter.

  Clearly, Stack was a fan favorite. Most people were on their feet, some holding signs, many snapping pictures. Fallon forgot all about Tom and Marcus and whatever clandestine message had passed between Leese and Justice.

  For this fight, anxiety riddled her. Everyone was so certain Stack would win, she kept wondering what would happen if he didn’t. And of course, the other fighter had plenty of fans, too. How disappointed would they be?

  She thought of Tom; clearly, he hadn’t yet gotten over his loss.

  With every punch or kick thrown, each takedown and submission attempt, she got more tense until she thought she might break. For once Justice was too caught up in the fight to notice how she fretted.

  The torture lasted until the middle of the third round. Both fighters were battered. Stack had a severe black eye and the other guy had a cut on his forehead. Sweat covered their muscles, which had seemed to pump up with each punch thrown. Though Stack continued to breathe evenly, the other guy was getting gassed and it showed.

  Earning his fight name, Stack prowled relentlessly forward, and when his opponent stepped back, Stack shot in. They ended in a tangle on the floor.

  Beside her, Justice went nuts. The shouting from all the men nearly deafened her. She continually shifted her position to see around all the now-standing people and when she finally had a clear view again, she saw that Stack had a full mount. He landed four punches in a row, and the body beneath him went slack.

  The ref called the knockout.

  Pandemonium ensued while several of the fighters seated near her surged forward to the cage. Fallon could tell that Justice wanted to join them, but instead he swung her up in his arms and hugged her while laughing.

  He held her as if she weighed nothing, and being in his arms made her nerve endings all go on alert.

  As he set her back on her feet, she noticed that Armie had also stayed behind with the wives, who hugged each other, alternately laughing and crying.

  They were such protective, considerate men, and she sighed in distraction.

  Until Justice cupped the side of her face and pressed his mouth to hers.

  It was no more than a celebratory smooch, there and gone too quickly for her to kiss him back, but her blasted knees almost buckled.

  While congratulations and back slaps got passed around their triumphant group, Fallon subtly fanned her face. Justice talked with others, and her mind wandered—to kisses and handholding, protectiveness and affection.

  The truth settled into her heart and she knew...she cared far too much for him.

  For so long she’d tried to keep her private life just that—private. In doing so, she felt like Justice only knew bits and pieces of her. Nothing of depth.

  Nothing real.

  Now with new awareness, she decided he had a right to know why she’d never dated. He needed to understand her issues, awful as they would be to share. Whether he considered the touching and kissing tonight as part of an act, for her it was real.

  How would he react once he knew all of her?

  Denver returned to their row of seats to collect his wife, who threw herself into his arms. While cuddling her close, he said to Justice, “After party at the club.”

  Justice was already shaking his head. “Not this time.”

  Denver glanced at her, then nodded. “Got it. Well, if you’re interested, we’re all going to Cannon’s place tomorrow to hang out.”

  “Celebrating Stack’s win?”

  Denver shrugged. “The plans were already made, but sure.”

  Laughing, Justice told her, “Anyone can get caught, so if he’d lost we’d get together to grumble.”

  “That’s about it,” Denver agreed.

  Justice put his arm around her. “What do you think? Did you have any plans for Sunday?”

  Thrilled that he would include her, she quickly shook her head. “I’m free.”

  After giving her a one-arm hug, he told Denver, “Then count us in.”

  With plans made, everyone began exiting in a crush far worse than when they’d entered. Because some of the guys and their wives went a different direction to join up with Stack, she and Justice were among strangers. He kept her in front of him, occasionally raising a forearm to keep anyone from bumping into her.

  They’d finally made it to the main hall that led to an escalator when something happened. People began cursing and the sounds
of a scuffle were heard. She tried to go on tiptoe to better see, but Justice immediately tucked her behind him, saying, “Hold on to me.”

  She flattened a hand to the middle of his back.

  Muscles flexed under her palm; the man was so hard all over.

  Then a guy behind her shoved past in excitement, saying, “Fight!” as if he relished the idea.

  A woman pushed in front of her, separating her from Justice while pressing close to his back.

  Someone else wedged past her, then more people—and more. In a matter of seconds, she couldn’t even see Justice. Uncertainty gripped her as she got jostled left and right.

  Thinking it might be a good idea to get out of the main flow of bodies, she edged to the side, hoping to stand against the wall until Justice came back for her.

  She almost made it, too, until someone shouldered her hard and she lost her footing. Her purse got jerked off her shoulder. She stumbled.

  Without even realizing she was near the stairs, she went down them, nearly taking a few other startled people with her. Her hip hit the rail, her shin cracked against a step.

  At a short landing where the stairs took a turn before continuing down, she finally crashed into a corner wall, her body in a disheveled heap. Somewhere along the way, she must have clunked her head because stars danced in her vision. In a daze, she struggled to get her bearings.

  “Hey now.” Tom crouched down in front of her. “You okay, honey?”

  His big body blocked others from crowding her. “Justice...”

  “I’m sure he’s coming.” He put a hand to her shoulder when she started to stand. “How about you hold on just a sec? Catch your breath and let me see if anything’s hurt?”

  Honestly, everything hurt, especially her pride. People who’d given up on the escalator continued to gawk at her as they passed down the stairs.

  She brushed her hair back and winced. Looking at her wrist, she saw the bruise starting.

  Tom took her hand and gently turned it. “Did you brace yourself as you fell?”

  “I don’t know. It happened so fast.”

  She heard an enraged shout and a second later Justice shoved Tom aside. “Fallon? Ah, shit.” He touched her face. “Baby, what happened?”