by Nova Drake
Her eyes roamed his body for the first knife, and he stepped aside to let her see it wedged in the wall behind him.
“I saw it before you threw it. And your aim is still a little off.”
“What are you doing here? You’re taking the creepy stalking thing to a whole new level.” She was trying to pull her inner attitude, but her uncooperative voice came out flat and tired.
He looked uncomfortable.
“Just spit it out, Ezra. What do you want?”
“You’re not at full strength right now. I was keeping an eye out because those men are still after you. When the cop started closing in on you, I let him see me to keep him from getting too close.”
“And you’re here because…?”
“I saw your thoughts in that alley. You needed someone, and you won’t risk letting Kat in.”
Jess’s jaw dropped. “What?” It was one thing to want sex from him or need help with an injury. Needing an emotional link like being comforted – that was something else entirely. Something completely unacceptable.
“It was a fleeting thought. But I heard it, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. The things that he told you were upsetting.”
Embarrassment was not something Jess was used to dealing with, but Ezra had the ability to pick her apart and throw every weakness back in her face. She was left feeling exposed, raw, and more importantly, pissed.
“It’s not like that.” He responded to her thoughts again, which only pissed her off more.
“Isn’t it? Stay out of my head! It’s intrusive and violating. I don’t want your help or your comfort. I never asked you for anything.”
More than anything, she hated how right he was. The news about Jett nearly had her crumbling. Everything that happened was quite possibly her fault, and she was struggling much more than she would ever admit. But that was the thing about Ezra, she didn’t have to admit anything, and he would still know.
“I never implied that you asked for anything,” he answered calmly.
“Then why are you here?! Why do you even care?” She snapped.
Ezra stared at her, his steely eyes piercing something deep in her chest. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? That’s enlightening. Is that all you got?”
His unmoving stare had yet to let up. She knew he saw right through her, but she had no idea how to react to that. He took two steps, moving closer. Jess tensed.
“What are you doing?” Her tone was frigid, just as angry at herself. Hating the fact that she wanted his arms around her. The second the involuntary thought slipped through her head, she knew he'd heard it.
He closed the distance and pulled her into his chest. “Fuck,” she muttered, shoving against him in spite of herself. His arms tightened. The asshole had a death wish. “Just because something stupid runs through my head doesn’t mean you should act on it.”
“I wanted to,” he murmured.
Finally, her struggle ended. She sagged against his chest, giving in against her better judgment. It had been a really shitty week, and she needed a moment. Just one freaking moment. Fuck everything else.
Enveloped in warmth and comfort, she relaxed into his hard chest and the foreign feeling he provided for only seconds before the alarm bells went off in her brain. Thoughts of danger and pain rang through her head as she recognized this Trojan horse for what it was. Ezra was the biggest threat of all, and she’d let herself fall right into his arms.
Recognizing her own stupidity, she shoved at his chest, and this time he stepped back stiffly, his body filled with tension. God, hadn’t she learned her lesson by now?
She literally just learned about Jett’s likely betrayal, and here she was making the same mistakes. When someone wrapped their arms around you, it was to hide the knife they’d be using to stab you in the back.
The tick in his jaw was a clear indicator that he was picking up all of her thoughts, but what did it matter anymore? His empty, icy eyes now held all the comfort of cold steel. A warning trickled down her spine as she held his stare. She hadn’t wanted to make him an enemy, but maybe it was better this way. This was exactly the kind of shit that would get her killed.
Anger rolled off of Ezra as he disappeared out the window. She watched him go and as much as she wanted to lie to herself, she couldn’t quite manage it. The feeling that twisted in her gut at his exit wasn’t relief.
Silence descended on the room as if to pointedly announce the absence of the one person in the entire fucking world that had the balls to hug her when she was at her worst. Silence was every bit as familiar to Justice as violence.
So why did it suddenly feel so empty?
Not daring to answer that question, Jess stalked to the window, her movements predatory and dangerous. Her strength was mostly there and her body, while still a little stiff, was back to at least eighty percent. She could work with that. What she needed was a distraction to clear her head, and she was always good at finding those.
Chapter 27
It was the first time she’d wandered these streets before dark. Justice kept to the shadows as much as possible to avoid serious damage. Like most, she was usually out later in the evening, when the sun wasn’t trying as hard to kill her. Everything looked different in daylight, and yet, they were still her streets. It was the shittiest nearby neighborhood, aside from the warehouse district, and therefore, her favorite destination to blow off steam.
While mid-day hours outdoors were generally avoided, the sun didn’t deter illegal business ventures. It did allow Justice to finally catch the name of this area on the graffiti-covered sign on her way in. At one time this place had been called Dealer’s Creek. That was just asking for trouble. The name had likely referred to the many casinos that once thrived, lifetimes ago, in the nearby city. Now it was an ironically accurate description of the area's drug problem.
The sign had since been rather artfully re-worked to read Death’s Creek, and that name seemed fitting as well. Especially on the nights that Jess came to visit. The grim reaper figure that had been painted next to the name would have been an admirable work of art, if not for the massive boner sticking out of his cloak.
There was a reason Justice enjoyed letting off steam in this area, in particular. It’s reputation for dealers that specifically targeted kids was well known. Setting them up for lifetime addictions and then, when they could no longer pay, selling the addicts for extra profits.
Jess kept clearing the worst of them out, but there were always more to take their place. She prowled down the street, catching shady dealers peering out from around corners, while others conducted business right out in the open. Those not involved in the favored business the town had to offer, scurried to their boarded-up homes for cover.
Jess grabbed a mid-sized knife from her belt and another from her boot as she made her way to the middle of the street. She slowed to an easy stroll, twirling her knives in her agile fingers as she wandered along toward her first victim. Some of the wannabe gangsters and dealers stopped to glare as she boldly walked right by, but none made a move just yet. It was only a matter of time.
Fear was a powerful tool and allowing her to so brazenly rub in the fact that she was not afraid would damage their fragile image. Those that came before them had learned the hard way and their replacements would be no different.
Jess reached the house she was looking for and kicked the door in. The dilapidated homes usually broke apart easily and this one was no exception, the brittle door cracking apart easily. Giving her knives one last twirl through her fingers, she stomped into the place, stepping over bodies sprawled on the floor in various states of consciousness. People went to a lot of trouble trying to forget how shitty their lives were.
After a glance in the kitchen, she headed up the stairs. More bodies filled the beds, but not the one she was looking for. Finally, she came to a locked door, which stopped her for all of half a second before she busted it in with another solid kick. The door broke apart, sending splinters rain
ing all over the couple occupying the bed.
“Son of a bitch!” The guy slurred, trying to slide under the chick he’d been nailing a moment ago.
“Lars, just the man I was looking for. Classy as ever, I see.”
Lars blinked at her, pupils blown. His eyes narrowed as he tried to place her but Jess was pretty sure it was a lost cause.
Jess stepped closer. “I’m looking for your brother….” she trailed off as she got a look at the girl, and noticed she wasn’t exactly reacting to anything going on. “Is she awake?”
Lars blinked again. Then turned his eyes to the girl. He shrugged. “Was when I started.”
Jess grabbed him by his long, dark, greasy hair and dragged him to the window. The glass was missing but there was a holey screen, which she busted out with his head.
“Ahhh, she’s my girlfriend, she don’t care,” he croaked.
“I do.” She growled through clenched teeth, using her hold on his hair to shove him further out the window. “Where’s your brother, Lars?”
He tried to shove himself back into the room, but it was almost too easy to keep him there while he was drugged out of his mind. That was the thing about this place, they spent most of their time drunk and high, and it almost made her feel like she was beating on children. Children that killed people and ruined lives, but still, easy marks.
“He don’t come ‘round anymore,” Lars finally spit out.
Jess leaned out the window with him, tipping him toward the ground. “That’s a long way down, dude. Bet it would take a bit to die once you landed through. Probably hurt like hell the whole time.” It wasn’t that high. It probably wouldn’t kill him. And if Lars wasn’t so fucked up, he’d know that already. It was his house. Instead, he scrambled to grab on to anything that would keep him from falling, which ended up being her shirt.
Jess snapped a couple of fingers to get him to let go and almost regretted it when the screech he let out pierced her ears. She shook her head against the ringing it left behind. “Jesus, aren’t the drugs supposed to keep you from feeling pain? Shut the fuck up.”
Lars struggled in her grip again, tears and snot running down his face. “Don’t. Jett don’t come here anymore. Stops by to sell when he feels like it, but not like he used to. I never know when he’s comin’.”
She pulled him back slightly so she could see his face. “When’s the last time he was here?”
Lars stared at her blankly for a moment, as though she’d asked him to solve complex equations. “Uhhh, like a few weeks?”
Yeah, she could trust that answer. Fuck. She knew she wouldn’t get anything worthwhile out of him. “Who’s dealing the Niyazine? Where can I get it?”
Lars grunted. “Ain’t no one dealin’ that shit. If it don’t get ya high what’s the fuckin’ point?”
Jess wanted to argue, but she wasn’t so sure he was wrong. It wouldn’t be the usual dealers handling the Niyazine if it was on the street.
She dragged him back inside by his hair and pointed his head toward the girl in his bed. “You do not touch her without her permission. I will be back to check and if I don’t like the answers I get, I’ll break the rest of your fingers. And then move on to other body parts.” She let her pointed stare explain which parts she was talking about.
His eyes widened and he nodded, moving his hands to cover his still naked body.
***
Jess sighed as she walked out and started down the street. That lead was a bust. Maybe she would try again when Lars was sober. Otherwise, she’d have to frequent the area and hope Jett came by to deal. And just imagining the things she would do to him when she finally got her hands on him… well, it left her feeling a little unsatisfied after her mostly non-violent encounter with Lars.
Loud voices pulled Jess’s attention to the right where two men sat on the porch of a beat-up duplex. The table was littered with homemade jars of liquor mixed in with random paraphernalia. She quickly decided that they were too drunk to be worth any trouble.
Movement between the broken spindles drew her gaze to the opposite side of the porch and she locked eyes with a child huddled in the corner. She couldn’t make out much from her obstructed view, but he was younger than she typically saw.
“Get me another drink, you worthless son of a bitch!” one of the men barked.
She almost smiled at the flicker of irritated defiance in his brown eyes before he slowly pulled his gaze away to look at the man berating him on the porch. Strength came in many forms and she could see it clear as day in this kid. He was a survivor.
By the time he looked up the man had already cornered him. “You deaf or dumb, boy? When I tell ya to do somethin’ ya fuckin’ do it,” he spat.
The man’s body tensed as though moments from striking, and the boy was well aware, curling himself further into the corner. The drunk grabbed the kid’s tattered shirt and dragged him to his feet.
The kid was disturbingly skinny, covered in dirt and bruises, but it was the thick jagged scar and distinctive burns on his arms that made her blood boil. Now she could tell that the kid was maybe thirteen, and while he shook with fear, he met the man’s stare with contempt in his own.
Her feet had already started moving, her next victim chosen. She zoned in on the man with barely controlled rage. The boy stumbled over his own feet as the man shook him violently. When he closed one hand around the kid's neck, and pulled back a closed fist ready to strike, she reacted without thinking. She released the knife from her hand only a moment before realizing she wasn’t alone.
A quick glance around confirmed she had her own problems. Her eyes flicked back up to the porch. The boy’s attacker was down and bleeding onto his rotting porch. For the moment his chest was still rising but he wasn’t moving otherwise. While she hadn’t intended to kill him, she supposed the liquor, drugs or some combination of all three might have unintended consequences. She wouldn’t have spared much guilt over it if not for the kid. The boy stared with wide eyes, clutching his throat but mostly unharmed.
The sound of a chair scraping against the rotted wood pulled everyone’s attention to the remaining man on the porch.
“What’d ya do, boy?” the man slurred as he stumbled closer, undoing his belt.
Two throwing knives landed in his arm and side. He roared in anger as his attention turned to Jess. She was sure he wasn’t feeling much pain in his current state. For a moment she thought he’d join her party, but instead, he took in the men around her and gave her a menacing smile.
“Shoulda pay more ‘tention to your own problems, stupid bitch.”
Four more knives were thrown by the time he’d finished gloating. Three of the men surrounding her dropped, clutching the knives in their throats. The fourth had sunk deep into the man’s abdomen just below the belt he’d been removing. He dropped to his knees and Jess saw the boy pull her knife from the side of his first attacker before she turned her attention back to the rest of her new friends.
She’d babied herself for too long, let herself get comfortable. Worse than that, she’d let herself get soft. No more of that shit. She knew who she was, and it was time to get back to that. Lucky her, the perfect opportunity had just presented itself. She was eager to introduce herself and judging by the way they were now closing in, they were dying to meet her too.
Chapter 28
Two hours after she’d walked into Death’s Creek admiring the artwork, Justice was following the destruction back the way she’d come. Her trail of breadcrumbs leaving no doubt that she was on the right path, collecting the weapons she’d lost along the way.
While the town was overrun with dealers and wannabes, there was no organization to any of it. No leader or chain of command ever stepped up to organize their efforts against her. Keeping a scared community under their control was easy, none of the people here could afford to hire someone to help them, and they were seriously outnumbered. But when a real threat showed up, it was every man for himself, and they scattered like cockr
oaches.
At first, they’d come out to find her, everyone wanting her for their prize or to prove that they were the baddest bitch in this town. Except no one managed to get away with the title. Jess had come to this town with a gut full of repressed emotion to burn through and they never stood a chance.
Word must have gotten out. That or the trail of bodies she left along the way told the tale because she had run out of challengers much more quickly than she’d anticipated.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t come out of it unscathed. Bloody and bruised, she crouched to pluck a knife from a body. Her muscles shook with the effort, the adrenaline had long since worn off and she ached for a bath and sleep. By the time she pulled her battered body upright again, someone new was standing in front of her. Evil gleamed in his glassy eyes as he took in her condition, clearly not afraid of the bloody knife clutched in her trembling hand.
