Bruno shook his head. “No.”
Marcus looked enraged all of a sudden, stalking toward the car with the clear intention of fucking Bruno up.
But the moment that he rounded the trunk, Royal exploded out of it.
One second, she was in it, and the next she was on Marcus’ back clawing at his eyes.
The two police officers filed out of the office then, followed by the ones stashed in the other various places, all having heard the commotion.
Royal went flying as Marcus ripped her off of his back and flung her at the closest wall.
Seeing the hurt it was about to cause her, I dove for her, managing to catch her and turning her so that my back hit the wall first.
Everything slammed into me so hard that I saw stars.
My back hurt. My eyes hurt. My head really fuckin’ hurt.
And then I was opening my eyes and staring down the barrel of a gun.
Royal moved to cover me from where she’d rolled, but a quick-thinking cop moved to intercept her before she could get a step in my direction.
“It’s over,” I said to Marcus, who was looking around wild-eyed.
He shook his gun at me.
“It’s not,” he disagreed. “They’ve got nothin’ on me. I’m…”
“Pointing a gun at a police officer,” I supplied. “Assaulting the daughter of a judge. Trust me when I say, you’re not getting out of this lightly.” I paused. “Plus, we have a couple counts of grave robbery—at least five.” I grinned. “Class C felony. Up to ten years in prison and up to a ten-thousand-dollar fine. You’re fucked.”
“I didn’t…” he began to say.
“You did,” I disagreed. “Friends gave you up right quick when we told them you’d no longer control Eleventh Street.”
Marcus’ eyes went dark. “I’ll kill their family.”
“Was that a threat?” I asked. “Could you repeat that?”
Marcus grew even more pissed off, jerking the gun in my direction.
“Stand up,” he ordered.
I didn’t bother.
If he wanted to shoot me, he was going to shoot me.
“Drop the gun, Gomez.”
That was Lock.
Where and when the fuck had he arrived?
“Drop the gun!” Yao bellowed.
I didn’t take my eyes off of Marcus.
Not when he took a step forward and spat at my feet.
Not when he said, “I’m going to kill you in front of her.”
And not when the last person I would’ve ever expected to see rolled into the shop.
Marcus did, though.
And I took my chance.
Knowing that the others would have him covered, I dove to the right behind the car I’d been working on, and two shots rang out.
One from Yao, and the other from Lock.
The other officers quickly moved in just as Jimmy rolled up in his wheelchair and stared down at me, offering me his hand.
I took it, and only then noticed that he was sweating profusely.
“You look rough,” I rumbled, finding it hard to breathe.
I took Jimmy’s hand as he said, “Yeah. Wheeled my fat ass all the way here.”
I was on my feet for all of three seconds before I was hit straight in the chest by Royal.
“Justice!” she cried out, burying her face into my neck.
I wrapped both arms around her and held her tight, cursing myself for letting this happen.
Her legs came up and encircled my hips, and despite the activity going on around us, my dick still got hard.
“What happened?” I asked, not sure if I was directing that question toward Royal or Jimmy.
“My thoughts, too,” Yao said, coming up to stand beside me.
Tellings was there as well, silently leaning against the car and ignoring the pool of blood only about twelve inches from his left foot.
I glanced down at the obviously dead Marcus and moved until the car was covering the majority of it up.
Then I set Royal on her feet and asked again.
“What happened?” I pushed.
“I got this weird call from him.” She gestured at Jimmy. “Telling me to come over now. He had a problem. I guess I should’ve thought better of it before I did it.” She held up her hand when I rolled my eyes. “I know. Dumb. Yes, yes. Anyway, I get there, and I’m picked up and shoved into a trunk by him.”
Royal points at a man that’s casually leaning against the car he’d brought Royal in.
“How did you know where Jimmy was at?” Yao asked. “I thought he was in a safe house.”
“They released the house to us yesterday,” Jimmy interjected. “And we have that ‘find your iPhone’ thing on our phones. We can look up where the others are without breaking a sweat.”
That made sense.
“Plus, I have to do it at least once a month,” he continued. “Royal always helps me find it.”
Yao nodded as if that made perfect sense.
“I tried to kick the taillight out, but I couldn’t.” Royal sounded frustrated. Then her eyes trained on something along the floor, and she grimaced.
I looked down to see that Marcus’ blood was now gravitating to our side of the car, and Jimmy’s wheels were now a casualty.
“I need to go talk to the driver,” Yao said.
Tellings followed him, leaving the three of us alone to talk some more.
I pulled Royal closer and said, “How’s your body? You’re okay after he threw you?”
She nodded, frowning at me.
“Your pupils are dilated,” she said.
I winced. “I probably have a fuckin’ concussion. I hit my head so hard I saw stars.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but I shook my head. “Not now, baby.”
She huffed and turned to her brother, changing the subject.
“How did you get here?” Royal asked, her eyes wide and relieved.
I squeezed her tighter, pulling her into my chest just to reassure myself that she was really okay.
“That guy.” He gestured at the guy that was…no longer there. What the fuck?
“Yao!” I called. “Where’s the guy that you were questioning a minute ago?”
Yao frowned, looked around, and realized what I did.
The guy was gone.
“Did you get anything out of him?” I asked.
Yao rubbed his face.
“That he used to be a professional driver of some sort, his name was Bruno, and that he was forced into helping,” he answered. “Didn’t seem like he was too bad of a guy. Just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
I looked back over at Jimmy.
“What did the guy do?” I wondered.
“He helped me get to a wheelchair,” he winced. “Though he did help me steal it.” He looked at Royal. “Then he helped her into the trunk.”
“Wait,” I held up a hand. “Helped her?”
Jimmy frowned, then nodded. “Yeah, helped. He didn’t hurt either one of us, though. That was all Marcus before he left.”
I looked over at where Marcus was currently being scraped off the floor.
I wanted nothing more than to walk over there and kick his corpse in the face.
But my head was starting to hurt where I had hit it against the wall.
Plus, I was fairly sure I might hurt the investigation more at this point if I did that than help it.
“You never answered how you got here.” I sighed, pinching my nose. “Or how you even knew where to go.”
“Bruno again,” Jimmy said. “Heard him and Marcus talking on the phone. Bruno said the address like three times. And to answer the other question, I rolled my ass all the way here.”
Royal sighed.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Royal disagreed.
“Couldn’t let you have all the fun.” Jimmy looked smug for a few long seconds. �
�I love you, Royal. I hope you know I’d do anything for you, even push myself six miles in a fucking wheelchair.”
Royal started to laugh, but that laugh turned into a cry not too long later.
“I stole some guy’s wheelchair,” Jimmy said. “We’re going to have to send it back to him.”
So that was exactly what Royal and Jimmy ended up doing.
Me?
Well, I had to get my head examined.
And not just because it was dead set on Royal St. James. Apparently, I hadn’t escaped scot free from our altercation after all.
But this was only after Royal and Jimmy left.
Luckily, Lock had given me a ride home and followed me inside the house. Otherwise I would’ve been dead.
Chapter 22
If you had sex with them seven years ago, they don’t count. They’ve fallen off your credit. You’re redeemed.
-Royal to Justice
Royal
Have you ever been on one of those rides where it’s exhilarating and exciting and scary as fuck then back to exciting?
That was what the day had been.
I’d woken up happy and content.
I’d left the house worried.
I’d gotten kidnapped and became terrified.
I’d come barreling out of that trunk so fuckin’ mad—I mean, they were trying to steal me away from Justice. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he’d blame himself.
Then I’d seen Justice, and I’d been relieved.
Following that up with more terrifying when I saw the gun pointed at Justice’s head.
Finally, happiness when my brother had come flying into the garage on his wheelchair, distracting Marcus just long enough for Justice to get the upper hand.
After returning the wheelchair—and a couple hundred bucks for the inconvenience—we’d returned home to find an ambulance screaming past us.
Fear had clogged my throat as it’d passed by us on Justice’s road.
But I’d refrained from freaking too far out because there were other people on the road beside us.
But, as I came to the end of the drive and saw Justice’s front door wide open, tracks in his beloved grass from a large vehicle—something an ambulance might make—and Lock’s bike parked in the drive, with no Lock or Justice, I knew.
That ambulance was holding Justice.
I just felt it in my bones.
Jimmy hadn’t even made it out of the car yet before I was pushing him back inside.
“Something’s wrong with Justice,” I gasped.
I practically shoved him back inside, folding him in so unceremoniously that he hit his head on the steering wheel.
I didn’t care.
I didn’t care at all because my heart was in my throat and there was something seriously wrong.
I was already calling Justice’s cell before I’d made it to the stop sign at the end of his road.
No answer.
I dialed it again, and again, and again.
Only for it to go to voicemail each of the five times.
I never caught up to the ambulance, but when I arrived and parked in the No Parking zone, it was to find a lone ambulance sitting there waiting with no one onboard.
I practically ran inside, leaving my brother to figure out his own way in.
It was a dick move on my part, but at that particular moment in time, I didn’t give a single fuck.
I arrived at the counter that separated the staff from the patients, and clearly looked just as flustered as I felt because the woman calmed me down with just a few short words.
“Who are you looking for?” she asked.
I swallowed hard.
“My fiancé,” I lied.
The lie slipped so easily off of my tongue that the woman didn’t question it.
“His name?” she asked.
I told her, and she typed it into the computer.
“It looks like he’s in the trauma room,” she said. “Number two. He arrived five minutes ago by ambulance, correct?”
I didn’t know.
But I said yes anyway.
“Let me go check,” she said.
Then she disappeared into the enclosed area behind her, and I couldn’t even follow because the damn thing was guarded with a godforsaken keypad.
I dropped my head into my hands and prayed.
I prayed harder than I’d ever prayed before.
And when she got back, her face filled with sorrow, I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach.
“He’s apparently received a traumatic brain injury…”
I nodded. “I know.”
Before the woman could say anything more, a doctor exited the side door that led behind the counter.
She walked over to me and gestured for me to follow her to the side of the desk.
“He’s in a coma,” she said, no preamble. “He’s been suffering from seizures since he was brought in, and he stopped breathing twice on the ambulance ride over here.”
I felt my heart just…stop.
“He’s alive,” she assured me. “They’re taking him to have a CT scan now. He’s been given anti-seizure drugs, diuretics, and now we’re actively keeping him in a coma.” She paused. “A comatose brain needs less oxygen to function. This is helpful because any blood vessels that might be compressed by any brain swelling are unable to give the brain cells normal amounts of nutrients and oxygen.”
I moaned.
“We don’t know any more than that for now,” she said. “I can lead you back to the ER waiting room, and the moment we know more, you’ll be the first to know.”
I nodded.
What else could I do?
“How about we take her into the blue room, ma’am.” Lock’s deep voice surprised me.
I turned to see Lock standing there with his hands holding all of Justice’s things.
His phone.
Keys.
Wallet.
And a baby stuffed chicken that I’d given him as a gag gift last night out of my Happy Meal.
I broke down into tears.
Lock wrapped me up in one arm and guided me to what he called the ‘blue room.’
There I stayed until I was able to think cognitively enough.
“Fuck!” I cried out, searching for his phone.
“What?” Jimmy asked, looking sick to his stomach.
“His parents,” I whispered.
Lock and Jimmy understood then, allowing me to make the call without interrupting.
I searched for his dad in his phone, finding a text sent by him an hour ago that said, “Let us know that you’re okay.”
I closed my eyes and felt bile rise in my stomach.
Nonetheless, I made the call.
“Fuckin’ Christ, Justice,” Loki said, sounding irritated. “I fuckin’ told you to keep me updated.”
I hated to correct him.
The moment I did, I knew he’d know something was wrong.
“Loki,” my voice cracked. “Something happened.”
Chapter 23
I’m from the south where before they eat the potato salad they’re gonna ask who made it before they even taste it.
-Royal to Justice
Royal
Four days later
It’d been four days since Justice’s body was placed into a medically induced coma.
Two since those drugs had been stopped.
And each hour that passed that he didn’t wake up felt like I was dying just a little bit more on the inside.
“We’re going to grab some coffee, honey,” Channing said. “Would you like some?”
I shook my head. “I’ve had like five cups. I feel like my heart’s going to walk right out of my chest.”
Loki chuckled. “I’m bringing you back a cookie, though.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but he shut me up with a single glare.
“Fine.” I ro
lled my eyes.
It was nice having them here.
They kept me sane and promised me over and over again when I wasn’t strong that Justice was a fighter.
He would be okay.
Luckily, the TBI—traumatic brain injury—was mild.
No surgery had to be done to relieve any swelling, and other than the loss of consciousness and the slight swelling of his brain, Justice ended up being extremely lucky.
Now, it was just a waiting game, according to the doctors, on when his brain would heal enough to allow him to wake up.
I was sitting there, reading a book on my phone while holding onto Justice’s hand, when I heard it.
“I think it’s time to leave the hospital and let him heal on his own. Without you breathing down his neck.”
I turned at the sound of my father’s voice, hoping I wouldn’t see what I knew to be there.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, voice disgustingly soft.
My father looked intimidating in his suit and tie.
Like he was better than me.
“The game that you’re playing is finished,” he said. “It’s time to start acting like an upstanding citizen again. Time to start participating in life like a person actually setting out to make a change. Plus, Justice Rector’s family is here. They can watch over him now. It’s time to stop playing the ‘I’m upset’ card.”
I clenched my jaw and looked at my father over my shoulder.
“Go away,” I said, sounding just as worn out and tired as I felt.
“Don’t you think that you’ve put this family through enough?” he asked. “Listen, I’ll even pay for college. I’ll pay for you to move away, too. When you come back, you’ll be graduated. You’ll be able to contribute to the family.” He paused. “I’ve had my secretary send you law schools that are well-to-do in the country. Ones that I’ve donated to so they’d be willing to take on your grades.”
I stiffened.
The idea of leaving and not coming back had always held merit.
But not now.
No longer did the idea of escaping this town sound like heaven.
Not when I had my entire life here now.
My entire life being Justice Rector.
“I love him, Dad,” I finally said. “I’m not leaving. It was nice of you to stop by all because of little old me but…”
“I didn’t stop by because of you,” my father said, trying to relieve me of that notion. “I stopped by because a fellow judge is in the hospital having heart surgery today. But I thought I’d come by on the off chance that you were still here, acting like you cared when we both know you’re staying with him because you want to stick it to me.”
Make Me Page 18
