Justice wasn’t sure. “Let’s find him first, then we’ll figure it out.” They might get to the campground, only to discover Grady wasn’t there.
“You wanna take ‘em for a ride to the desert?”
“As much as I’d love to, I can’t. I promised Etta he’d live to see another day.”
The MC had gotten rid of evidence in the Smoke Desert before. It was full of all kinds of critters who didn’t mind an easy meal, and after they scattered the bones, no one was the wiser.
“Why’d you go and do a fool thing like that?” Ace laced up his boots and threw on a pair of aviator shades.
“She made me promise.”
Ace sighed as though he was put out. “Fine, but we’re gonna beat the snot out of him, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Justice clenched his fists. “And I get the first crack at him.”
***
When they pulled up at the state park, it was quiet. Most folks were probably still in bed, which suited Justice. He spotted Ten’s SUV in a parking lot near the entrance. Justice pulled out his phone and dialed the mobster, who answered on the first ring.
“Follow me.”
“We got your six.” The mobster pulled in behind Ace’s motorcycle.
They both drove past the guard station but didn’t stop.
Justice could check at the front desk, but he doubted Grady had been foolish enough to use his own name when he booked the campsite.
And, no witnesses, no problems. They wouldn’t be drawing attention to themselves.
So they drove around, looking for his old Ford pick-up truck, and eventually found him in the rear of the campground, near the lake.
“Is that his?” Ace asked as he pulled his motorcycle along beside Justice’s.
He nodded. “I think so.”
Etta had said he slept in a red tent, and sure enough, it was pitched beneath an old oak tree. Justice didn’t see any movement at the campsite, so he must be sawing logs.
They parked, and Ten pulled in behind them. All of them approached the tent slowly. The trees gave them cover.
When they got closer, sure enough, he heard snoring. Justice withdrew his gun and silently made his way over, careful not to step on any snapping twigs. Ace, Ten, and Butler followed him, their weapons drawn. He unzipped the tent slowly.
Inside, Grady was lying on his back, mouth open, snoozing, completely oblivious to their presence.
Justice cocked the gun. “Rise and shine, asshole.”
Grady shot straight up in bed. His eyes were wide and wild.
“Allow me to be clear, Grady, if you move, I shoot.”
He sucked in a breath.
“Raise your hands.”
He did, lifting them over his head. “Uh, Justice, what are you—”
“Shut the fuck up and do what I say. Get to your feet. You’re comin’ with us, and you’re not gonna draw attention to yourself. If you do, you won’t like what happens.”
His chin jutted. “Why shouldn’t I kick up a fuss, and make this as hard as possible for you? We both know you’re gonna kill me.”
“You have my word, you’ll live through this.” Even though, he hated even saying the words. This bastard deserved to die.
“Why should I believe you?” Grady reached into his sleeping bag, and Ace lifted his gun.
“Don’t even fuckin’ move.”
Grady froze.
“Yeah, don’t do anything stupid, Grady,” Justice said. “And to answer your question, the woman you tried to murder, made me promise I wouldn’t kill you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I never—”
“Save it.” Justice was done with this guy’s bullshit. “Don’t even bother tryin ’to deny the facts. We both know you set the fire.”
He sneered. “What if I did?”
Justice trembled with rage, actually trembled. He swallowed, and the gun wobbled in his grasp. He wanted to shove the barrel right beneath the man’s jaw, and pull the trigger, spatter the tent with even more crimson.
“Easy now, brother.” Ace said. “This ain’t the time to paint the town red.” He glanced around them, in case any campers had woken up. Thankfully, no one had.
Justice lowered the gun, and gulped in some air, as though he were suffocating.
When he was calm again, he spoke to Grady once more.
“Like I said, nobody’s killin’ you, but if you don’t cooperate, I will make it hurt. Bad.”
Although, Justice knew he’d be hurting Grady anyway, probably a lot.
Slowly, with his hands raised, Grady left the tent.
“I’ll have a prospect come over and pack his crap up,” Ace said, as he texted one on his phone. The prospects were biker wannabes, and like the new guys in his SEAL unit, the rest of the club hazed them until they got kicked out or were made official members.
Ten walked over. “Why don’t we take him to Beauregard Manor?” His black-eyed gaze slid over Grady, in an assessing way.
“Works for me.” Justice needed room to work.
“He can come with us,” Butler said. “We can make him comfortable in the trunk. Ain’t that right?” He slapped Grady on the back, and then shoved him toward the car. The mobsters got in their SUV and headed out.
Justice and Ace followed them.
They arrived at Beauregard Manor, and pulled all the way to the back, by the shed. After opening the trunk, Justice grabbed Grady and pushed him inside.
Although, Justice didn’t tie him to a chair.
“Need any help?” Ten rested against the wall, a lean black shadow.
“No, I got this.” Actually, Justice was looking forward to it.
“I’m sure you do. Looks like you’re ready to dole out some punishment.”
Across the room, Grady paced back and forth, gaze darting toward the door. Butler stood in front of it, wearing a wicked grin. He acted like a child who’d been promised a trip to the amusement park.
Ace was more guarded, watching Justice with a concerned expression. He was glad his brother had come, in case Justice needed anyone to pull him back. Ten and Butler would push him in the opposite direction.
“Come on, Grady, let’s do this, once and for all.” Justice put up his dukes.
Grady shook his head. “No, I don’t want this.”
“Too damn bad. I gave you a chance to walk away, and you didn’t take it.”
He backed off, and beads of sweat formed on his upper lip.
“You’re such a big man. You’ve got, what? Seventy pounds on her?” Justice circled Grady, his fists raised, at the ready. “You liked throwin’ her around, didn’t you?”
Grady shook his head. “No, it wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie! Did it make you feel like a man, huh?” Justice swung, and when his fist connected with Grady’s face there was an explosion of pain, and then bliss.
His head rocked back.
“Tell me!” Justice socked Grady in the jaw again.
“She—” He broke off.
“She? She what, Grady? What the fuck are you tryin’ to say? Etta had it comin’?” Justice hit him in the nose, and blood spurted from his nostrils.
This time, it didn’t make Justice sick, it made him happy. The blood might as well be confetti, and this was a fucking party.
“No! I didn’t mean to—”
Justice smashed a fist into Grady’s throat, choking him. “You tried to kill her. It isn’t enough that you brutalized her, beat her up, you wanted to end her life.”
Grady didn’t defend himself.
“Come on! Fight me, you son of a bitch.”
“Please stop!” Grady swiped at his nose, and shook his head, pressing himself into the corner.
“Not much of a fighter, are you? I am. I can shoot just about any gun, but I like gettin’ my hands dirty.”
He rushed Grady, shoved him on the floor and kicked him in his ribs, again and again. Just like he’d kicked Etta in the stomach when she�
��d been pregnant. He wore steel toe boots, so it probably hurt like a bitch.
“Don’t kill me.” His eyes watered. “Please don’t kill me.”
His vision clouded. All Justice could see was fucking red.
“Is that what Etta said? Did she beg you to stop, when you beat her? And did you ever show her any mercy, Grady? Did you?” Justice kicked him again for good measure.
Grady grunted, and blood gushed from his mouth.
Justice knelt beside him and spoke real low. “Unlike you, I listen to Etta, I care about what she thinks and says, so I’m gonna keep my promise to her.”
“You are?” His eyes widened with hope, evidently wondering if the worst was over.
“Yeah, but first, I want you to tell me you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
Justice didn’t buy it. “No you’re not, you’re tellin’ me what I want to hear. And anyway, you should be sayin’ this to Etta, not me.”
“I will if you let me leave. I’ll apologize, I’ll beg her for forgiveness. I’ll say anythin’.”
“But you won’t mean it, and you’ll never see her again. Well, actually, that’s not true. You’ll see her, but you won’t even be aware.”
“What do you mean?” Grady blinked rapidly, as though having difficulty comprehending him.
And then Justice slammed Grady’s head down on the cement floor. Once, twice, three times.
Justice whacked him again and again, until the man passed out.
***
A week later, Justice sat across from Frost at the police department. It was a familiar if depressing sight. Over the past couple of years, he’d been hauled in for questioning more times than he cared to admit.
They couldn’t prove a damn thing though.
He took a sip of the coffee and then spit it back out into a cup. Ugh, it was lukewarm and so watered down, it might as well be tea.
“This stuff could gag a maggot.”
“Then don’t drink it.” Frost paged through a manila file folder. Justice caught glimpses of his previous mugshots.
“Where were you, one week ago, exactly?”
At Beauregard’s place, taking out the trash.
“Maybe I should wait for my lawyer to get here.”
“Why? Are you guilty? Where were you?” Frost spit the words out.
“Hmm, let me see.” Justice scratched his chin as though thinking it over. “I don’t rightly recall.” If he didn’t get specific, the cops couldn’t pin down his whereabouts.
“You don’t remember?” A vein throbbed along the side of his jaw. If Frost didn’t watch it, he’d give himself a stroke one of these days.
Given his moral flexibility and relationship with Etta, Justice doubted Frost wanted to be doing this interview, but he had to keep up appearances. The other cops would think he was crooked if he didn’t give Justice a hard time. He bet they stood on the other side of the two-way mirror on the opposite wall.
“Sorry, I got no clue where I was.”
“You gotta do better than that.”
“It’s the truth.” Well, no not really. Justice remembered every single second of the encounter.
Talk about moments to treasure.
“Grady’s in the hospital, and he just got out of a coma. Somebody bashed in his skull.”
“You don’t say.” Justice widened his eyes with the appropriate amount of shock.
“Any idea how his head got smashed in?” Frost asked.
“None.”
“The doctor said Grady has permanent brain damage. They doubt he’ll ever walk again, let alone talk.”
Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.
“Ain’t that a shame?” Justice struggled to keep a straight face.
“Not from your perspective, since he allegedly tried to murder your girlfriend.”
“Hmph, allegedly.” They both knew Grady had set the fire.
“Fine, let’s play the hypothetical game. What do you think happened to him?” Frost asked, scooting his chair forward, getting in Justice’s face.
Justice smirked. “Personally? I think he fell down the stairs.”
Epilogue
Three months later
“Are you ready?”
“Yes.” Etta squared her shoulders. “Let’s do this.”
As a rule, she hated needles, but Etta was eager to get Grady off her back. Literally.
Justice told her what he’d done to Grady, and she didn’t feel guilty. Grady was in an assisted living home. He’d never hurt anyone again, but he was still alive. Considering what he’d done, he’d gotten a generous sentence for his crimes. The police had questioned both her and Justice but hadn’t been able to prove anything, and the case had gone cold.
The cops hadn’t been able to determine if he set the fire, and they’d given Grady a pass on the parole violation, in light of his injuries.
Everything had worked out well, for her and Justice at least.
“I’m ready if you are, Angel.” Justice led the way inside.
Over the past couple of weeks, she’d googled tattoo designs and picked one she liked. This afternoon, they’d come to Brimstone Ink to make her vision a reality.
Graffiti street art streaked the whitewashed exterior of Brimstone Ink. The Four Horsemen MC logo covered the bottom corner of the glass front door. A chilly blast of air from the industrial air conditioner hit her as she walked inside.
Etta had never been to a tattoo parlor and gaped at her surroundings. A crimson leather chair sat on a raised dais, reserved for Horsemen. According to Justice, all the brothers got inked here, so they must know what they’re doing.
“Sorry, but I’m short-handed today. Have a seat, I’ll be with you in a minute,” a redhead said. She stood behind the front counter with a phone to her ear.
“No problem.” Her stomach fluttered.
“You look nervous,” Justice whispered.
“That’s because I am.”
“Don’t be. You’re in very experienced hands. Fiona, that’s the woman on the phone, owns this place, and she knows her craft. Her dad used to be one of the best tattoo artists in the country, and she learned from the master.”
“Really?”
“His shop was featured in magazines, and every now and then a famous person showed up at his parlor. She’s carryin’ on the family legacy, so you’ve got nothin’ to worry about.”
It made her feel a bit better.
Flames crawled across the black walls and the ceiling, giving the space an unearthly glow. Iron lantern sconces holding firewood candles hung from the wall on thick chains.
“Looks Damn Good. Hurts Like Hell” was stenciled on one wall.
Most of the surfaces were stainless steel. The floor was made of black granite tile, shined and glossy. Large flat screens projected available ink designs, each image separated by a flash of flames.
Etta hated the fire motif, but she’d survive it long enough to get her tattoo.
Justice’s phone jingled, and he answered, then had a brief, monosyllabic conversation.
After the call ended, he grinned. “Hey, we can pick up our keys tomorrow mornin’. All the paperwork’s been finalized.”
They’d gone shopping for a new place together. They found a house in a brand new development in town. For now, they planned on living together, and then they’d talk about a more formal arrangement in the future.
If…when, they got married, her name would be on the deed to the house as well as any other big-ticket items. Etta wanted some assurances, although she seriously doubted she’d ever leave Justice.
“Fantastic. I can’t wait to show Tyler his new place.”
Etta had become Tyler’s foster parent. Since she was a social worker, her application had sailed through the approval process. Justice was attending parenting classes, and then he should be accepted as well. While he was a member of an outlaw biker club, he had a history of military service and no criminal convictions.
After thin
gs had settled down, Etta planned on petitioning the court to formally adopt Tyler. Justice’s friend, Jane Hunter, was a lawyer and she promised to help with the case.
All in all, things were going well.
Justice was no longer plagued by nightmares, and he’d given up marijuana. Her arm had healed, and while the skin was still blotchy, the wound didn’t look nearly as awful as it once had.
“I apologize for the delay.” Fiona glanced at the biker. “Hey, Justice, nice to see you.”
“Likewise.”
“Is this your new lady friend?”
“Make that old lady.” Justice looped an arm around Etta’s shoulder.
Etta beamed.
“Congratulations! Then I assume we’re doin’ a name tattoo.”
“Nope.” Etta reached into her purse and pulled out a couple of designs she’d printed out.
“Angel wings.” Fiona nodded. “I like the lines. Where do you want the tat?”
“Over the scar.” Etta lifted the back of her shirt and turned.
Fiona sighed as she surveyed the damage. “What a bastard. It would be my privilege to cover up his handiwork.”
“Thanks.” A sense of relief washed over her. When she walked out of the parlor today, every last trace of Grady would be gone from her life.
It was a fresh start.
Fiona walked over to a nearby chair and patted it. “Come on over, and we’ll get rid of that ugly thing, honey.”
Etta laid down, and Justice pulled up a stool beside her as Fiona cleaned the area with rubbing alcohol.
“It’s time to go to the beach, Angel.” Justice held her hand. “Close your eyes and let’s picture it.”
She shook her head. “Nope, talk to me about our home, instead.” It was her new happy place, where she’d be safe and sheltered.
“Mine too. It’s better than any beach I’ve been to. I can’t wait to move in tomorrow.”
“Me either.”
“I’m glad because you’re gonna be livin’ there, with Tyler and me, for the rest of your life.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s see, there’s a big backyard…”
Thank y’all for readin’!
Cold Blood (Lone Star Mobsters Book 4) Page 20
