The Cost of Justice

by Nova Drake

  “You can’t possibly be the bitch I heard was causing trouble in my hood.” His words ended in a gurgle as a knife slid into his throat like butter.

  Justice limped closer and retrieved her knife again. “This is my hood now, bitch.”

  When she finally made it back to where it had all started, she immediately noticed the second body now occupying the porch. She hobbled up the steps, noting the roughly slit throat of the man she’d left alive. Her knives were all missing from both bodies now.

  She dropped into the chair the dead man had occupied earlier and grabbed a half-empty bottle of dark liquor. The drugs that had been there were now gone. She took a long swig of the bitter drink and let her eyes fall on the boy, back in the corner of the porch as if he could make himself invisible by staying out of the way. Who knows, maybe that tactic had worked for him in the past. Maybe he’d spent half his life invisible in the corner. Jess realized that maybe the kid knew things, but she also knew she couldn’t use a kid that way.

  “You do that?” she asked, jerking her chin toward the man on the porch.

  The kid stared back. His eyes were hard but haunted. Two throwing knives were clutched in one hand, a larger knife in the other. Jess made no move to get them back.

  “You take the drugs that were up here?” she asked.

  The boy's eyes narrowed at her but shook his head.

  “Someone else swiped it all?” She took another swig of the drink hoping to dull the ache in her body and the hole in her soul. He dipped his head once in confirmation, and she nodded as well. “Don’t get involved in that shit. I don’t want to have to come back here to kick your ass, you understand?”

  A little crinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he nodded.

  “Where’re your parents?”

  The boy's eyes flicked down to the man she’d killed and then away. His dirty hair falling into his face as he dropped his head. Shit.

  “That your dad?”

  His face tightened with anger. “My mom’s boyfriend,” he answered without looking her way.

  “Where’s your mom?”

  The kid swallowed hard and his eyes dropped to the ground.

  “She’s gone?”

  He nodded.

  “Did he kill her?”

  The boys chin jerked down again in confirmation.

  “You got a dad or any other family?”

  “No,” his broken voice responded.

  Jess sighed. There wasn’t exactly a good option for parent-less kids. There was a small orphanage somewhere in the cop-town border, but it was mostly just where they sent kids that had been picked up by the cops when parents couldn’t be located - assuming they even made an effort to locate them.

  From what Jess understood, the kids there were put to work to earn their keep and then basically forced into hard labor once they hit sixteen to pay off their debt. Debt that could never be fully re-paid because they continued to rack up more debt and interest by requiring food and a place to sleep.

  If they were put to work servicing the elites or the cop-town, everything was far more expensive and they were guaranteed to die with a huge debt on their head. Their handlers acted like it was charity because they fed them and dismissed the debt once they died, but there was no disguising that those children were owned. She couldn’t send a child there.

  Still, this was on her. The abusive bastard may have deserved it, but it left a kid without a caregiver. The very least she owed him was getting him out of this town. The kid as destined for a grim future if she left him in this hell hole.

  “Listen, I cant take in a kid, but I can give you a better place to hide tonight. After that, we’ll have to figure something else out. Got it?”

  The kid nodded in confirmation and her gut twisted at the tiniest flicker of hope in his eyes. Hope was something she didn’t have to offer him. She could give him a place to hide for a night and something to eat. That would have to be enough. Jess was done with letting people in. It wouldn’t bring them anything but pain anyway. Leaning back in the rickety chair, she took another swig of the drink, giving the kid time to run in and grab anything he wanted, but apparently, it was a wasted effort. When she got up and headed away, he silently followed.

  Chapter 29

  Justice led the kid to one of her more secluded hide-outs and ushered him inside. He immediately tucked himself into a corner, and as much as she hated it, she left him there. If that was what made him feel safer, she wasn’t going to fight him.

  Jess immediately pulled out a couple of meal bars and tossed them to him. The kid’s hands shook as he immediately tore into one. She left a few more on the tiny counter where he could see them and watched as he devoured them with an enthusiasm that the tasteless bars could never warrant.

  “You know, you don’t have to stay in the corner. You can take the bed if you want.”

  His big brown eyes ran over the mattress, propped off the floor with cinder blocks, but he didn’t move.

  Jess sighed. “Look I know that I said I couldn’t take in a kid, and that’s true. I’m not a good person to be friends with.” Understatement of the year. “But you can stay here, I’ll use my other places and I can drop food off once in a while. You’d probably be mostly safe here.”

  The kid's eyes narrowed. Her kindness putting him on alert. Jesus, this kid almost reminded her of herself.

  “No pressure. I’m gonna go wash up. You can go in after me if you want.” Apprehension flashed in his eyes when they darted toward the bathroom, but she didn’t bother waiting for an answer before walked away and closed herself in.

  ***

  Milo had tried to read Justice’s intention when the offer had spilled from her lips, but he couldn’t tell what her endgame was. What did this woman want in exchange for what she was offering? If there was anything he’d learned after being under Rik’s thumb for the past year, it was that he was better off on his own.

  As scary as it was, he felt a sense of freedom being away from Rik and his asshole friend, Deke. Milo clutched the knives tighter as the memories tried to take over. He pushed himself further into the corner, needing to feel the wall at his back.

  Most of the time Deke had passed out before Rik and Milo had been able to disappear inside to hide in the kitchen pantry once he’d delivered Rik his last drink or hit. That stupid pantry was the only place he felt safe. No one looked for him there, it wasn’t like they kept food in it. After Rik passed out each night, he could finally sneak off and pray that was the night they’d finally swallowed enough poison to never wake up. It was the only time Milo could let his guard down. Until the night Rik had passed out early.

  With Rik out cold, Deke had decided he was bored - and that Milo was his entertainment in a way that went far beyond Rik’s usual abuse. Milo absently traced a jagged scar on his arm and shuddered at the memory of being cornered in the bathroom, the broken edge of the stone sink slicing through his skin when he was slammed into it. The edge of the cracked mirror cutting into his cheek and Deke’s icy fingers digging into his neck.

  He had no regrets about finishing that bastard off. He didn’t feel sorry for the rest of them either. They had all taken their turns trying to get Milo hooked. That first hit was always free, but he knew how they‘d expect him to pay after that. He’d seen it kill his mother piece by piece until Rik had finally finished her off.

  Milo did everything he could to avoid the dealers. He’d become quite good at going unnoticed and it worked most of the time. But Deke was downright sadistic when he was bored. It was the one time he hadn’t been able to escape…

  “Hey!” Justice had appeared in front of him while he was lost in thought and he hadn’t even noticed. He couldn’t help the startled noise that escaped his lips when he jolted violently.

  Her hands, which she’d placed over his when she’d startled him, jerked back sharply. She held them up, palms out to show she wasn’t going to hurt him. Which would have been more convincing, if they weren’t bloody. />
  He watched wide-eyed as blood dripped from a slice on her palm. Oh, God. He hadn’t even made it a full day on his own. She was going to kill him. He’d stolen her knives and then stabbed her with one! His breaths started coming in faster pants and his chest ached. Would she at least make it quick?

  “Hey, hey. Whoa, calm down. I wasn’t trying to take them away. Look, you cut yourself.” She pointed at the hand holding the smaller knives which had been nicked by one of the blades. His eyes went back to her hands and while one was just transferred blood, the other had definitely been cut. “Just a scratch,” she confirmed. “My fault. I shouldn’t have startled you.” She eyed him warily. “What were you thinking about so hard that you didn’t even notice you cut yourself?”

  Not a chance in hell was he going to answer that. They weren’t friends, she’d said it herself. Besides, Milo didn’t do friends. Connections like that only led to pain, and Milo’d had more than enough pain for one lifetime.

  ***

  The kid’s eyes shuttered and Jess knew she wouldn’t be getting an answer out of him. When she’d come in, the look in his eyes was downright haunted. She’d tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t hearing her, wasn’t seeing her. He was somewhere else at that moment. Somewhere bad, and Jess couldn’t leave him there.

  When she’d knelt in front of him and noticed he’d cut himself, her first instinct was to move the knife. But the moment she’d touched him, he’d startled, nicking her hand in the process. Seeing the flash of terror in his eyes, she’d jerked back, trying to look less threatening for once.

  Once she’d asked him about what he’d been thinking about, the kid had gone from scared to closed off in a blink. She supposed that was an improvement. She honestly didn’t know what to do with this kid. He seemed to have one foot on the path to becoming one of the feral outcasts, and she hated the thought of him ending up there.

  “Do you think you can come out of the corner so I can bandage your hand?”

  The kid didn’t move, so Jess stood to get antiseptic and bandages, the returned to the floor, letting him see everything she did as she bandaged the small cut on her hand. When she was done, she left the supplies on the floor and stood, climbing on to the tiny counter to pull a few knives down from their hiding spot on top of the broken cupboard. Selecting the ones she was looking for, she put the rest back and slowly returned to her spot on the floor.

  The first knife was unusual and she held it up for him to see. “This one is kinda cool.” She unfolded the blade and slipped her fingers through the holes along the side of the handle. “It’s like brass knuckles and a knife combined. I took it from a guy who tried to jump me. It happens a lot ‘cause I’m small, but I always teach them that size isn’t everything.”

  The kid watched with interest, so Jess kept talking.

  “The blade flicks out pretty easy, and then you slip your fingers through. Then whether you’re stabbing or punching, you’ve got a little extra oomph there.”

  She mimed both movements for him before folding the knife back up.

  “If you haven’t practiced your aim with the throwing knives, this might be a better option for you.” Jess made no move to get her other knives back, she just leaned forward and placed the folded knife within reach. He eyed it for a moment before placing the bloody throwing knives down and picking the folded knife up. His smaller fingers fit a little awkwardly through the holes but he clutched it tightly anyway.

  Jess held the other knife up, dangling from the cord it was on. Folded it didn’t look like a knife at all, just a small black rectangle. “It doesn’t look like much, but that’s the point.”

  She fastened the cord around her wrist to show him how the rectangle dangled right into her palm. “You can wear it, so it’s always there when you need it, but it doesn’t hinder you from using your hands.” She showed him how to release the safety and flick the blade out. “And on the other side, there’s a lock pick.”

  She pulled out the long skinny piece on the other side to show him before folding it back to a small rectangle and removing it from her wrist. “To most people, it’s not going to look like a weapon, they’ll overlook it, but you’ll always be armed.”

  Jess moved a little closer and crouched in front of him. “We can put that knife in the shower with you. This one can stay on your wrist. You can lock the door, and when you come out, I’ll bandage your hand and you can go right back to the corner if you want, okay?”

  She held the cord up, waiting for his wrist. Neither of them moved for a few beats, but the kid finally held his hand up and Jess fastened the cord around it twice. His golden-brown eyes lifted to hers and she backed up so he could stand without her hovering over him, and then led him to the bathroom so he wouldn’t have a stranger at his back. She turned the water on and pointed out the soap and a large cloth he could dry off with. She gave him a t-shirt but had no kids clothes so he was stuck with his torn and dirty pants.

  Once he was situated, she pulled the door shut behind her, resisting the urge to tell him she wouldn’t hurt him. As much as she wanted to, it seemed to be all she was capable of. At the sound of the lock, she turned and returned to the main area to tug the mattress over to the kid's corner before settling in on the couch.

  When the kid emerged from the bathroom, he’d stared at the mattress for several moments before Jess managed to get him to sit so she could bandage his hand. Once she was done, he returned to the corner, this time forced to sit on the mattress at least. Neither of them acknowledged it. Jess dropped back down on the old, threadbare couch, still sore and exhausted. The kid probably was too.

  “What’s your name, kid?”

  For a few long moments, Jess was sure he wasn’t going to answer. Honestly, she didn’t even know why she’d asked. Her eyes closed and she’d given up on it when she finally heard his soft voice.

  “Milo.”

  Chapter 30

  Before Jess’s eyes even opened she knew the kid was gone. There was a stillness to the room that hadn’t been there all night while the kid worked through his nightmares. Still, she pried her lids open and her eyes immediately sought out the mattress in the corner. Sure enough, he had bailed. They were more alike than she’d first realized. Which made her irritation even more irrational.

  She should be glad to be rid of him, and yet she couldn’t manage even the tiniest amount of relief. The idea of the kid being out on his own put knots in her stomach.

  God, she really had gone soft. The most she could do for him now was leave the place accessible. Maybe drop off food in case he came back since it seemed he’d cleared out her stash of meal bars on his way out. Strangely enough, the theft made her feel a little better.

  Pulling her head out of her ass, Jess dragged herself out into the world. It was the crack of evening and she had to try to work that stupid coffee contraption again before tracking down Jett.

  ***

  By the time Jess dragged her ass back to her closest bed, she was exhausted, bruised, sore and blistered from all the walking and fighting. She’d gone back to see Lars first, hoping to find him sober. He wasn’t. And hoping he’d have more information for her. He didn’t. So, for days Jess had hit every friend and hangout she could remember, and tried beating information out of anyone that knew him, barely taking time to rest in between.

  She’d learned that he had gambling debts, a habit of shorting both his supplier and his clients, and a list of people who would be just as happy as Jess to get their hands on him. She’d looked everywhere she could fucking think of, but the little cockroach had disappeared.

  Too exhausted to even bother pulling off her boots, Jess threw herself back on her lumpy pallet. Jett would know she was looking for him by now. He’d probably scurried under some rock to live out the rest of his pathetic life. Despite her frustration, Jess snorted, He’d have to come out eventually for drugs, sex, and gambling. She couldn’t see him giving those up.

  “Son of a bitch,” she grumbled, pulling her
self upright again.

  Jess eyed the bed longingly, but she couldn’t take the chance. If he was there, he wouldn’t stay there for long. Unable to help the tiniest bit of pouting, she dragged herself back out into the street and forced herself to focus. She had a dangerous walk ahead of her.

  ***

  The gambling sections of the Underground were the part Jess was least familiar with. It had never appealed to her in the slightest. In a fight she was putting money on herself, she had some control in that situation. Granted, she hadn’t won every fight she’d ever fought. But she won often enough that she didn’t consider it a gamble. It wasn’t the same thing as throwing away money on the luck of some cards or dice.

  Jett tried to teach her cards years ago, but she hadn’t been interested then either. He was eighteen when they’d dated and while there wasn’t exactly an age limit on the Underground, she really couldn’t see him getting in back then. At the time he’d mostly gambled with friends for small amounts of money, drugs, whatever they’d had on them. She’d seen them throw in weapons, food, and sexual favors when the stakes got high. She never understood the draw, but Jett lived for it.