Page 66 of Justice

My shoulders stayed tense. My stomach tightened every time I heard footsteps. Every sound in the hallway made me stop what I was doing and listen.

That little girl reminded me of Roman.

Not physically. It was the way she watched people. The stillness. The way her face could look completely innocent while her eyes remained busy, collecting information. She seemed to notice every weakness in a room and tuck it away for later.

And now that I had told her father what she’d done, I was waiting for her to punish me.

Would she?

Was she capable of that?

Or had Roman damaged me so badly that I had started seeing him inside anybody who made me uncomfortable?

I kept telling myself she was only a misunderstood child. That she was grieving. That her behavior was pain wearing an ugly little costume. That was what I told Justice, and part of me genuinely wanted to believe it.

But another part of me knew better.

Under the grief sat something sharp and deliberate. She let it show in quick flashes, then tucked it away before anybody else caught it.

I hoped I was wrong.

God, I wanted to be wrong.

But I was almost never wrong about danger. My only mistake had been waiting too long to trust myself.

I needed to get out of Dodge before the shit hit the fan. Before she exposed me to her father. Because I was sure she knew something about me. Maybe not everything, but enough to understand that there was a secret and that I was scared of anyone digging too deeply into it.

The way she mentioned court the other night hadn’t been random.

It reminded me of the ride to the party, when she casually announced that she wanted to become a defense lawyer. At the time, I’d dismissed it as another strange little comment from a child who enjoyed making adults uneasy.

Now I wasn’t so sure.

Maybe she had been studying me. Testing different words to see which one made my face change.

She had been dropping breadcrumbs and watching to see whether I followed them.

This little bitch was fucking with me.

And the worst part was, I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

She was a child. Justice’s child. Any accusation I made would only make me sound cruel, paranoid, or threatened by a grieving little girl. Or it would flat out reveal my lies. She could prod at every secret I had, and the second I reacted, she could widen those big innocent eyes and ask what she had done wrong.

I had no proof or leverage. I had no recourse with this little girl.

All I could do was wait for her next move.

And I had already spent too many years of my life waiting for someone dangerous to decide how they wanted to hurt me.

Quest had taken Rita for the day, doctor’s appointments first and then over to see Mehar and the baby after, which meant I actually had a few free hours. Aubrey texted before I’d even finished my coffee.

Aubrey: Meet me at the mall now. Bring your card and your problems.

I brought both.

We were three stores deep but I was barely there. My mind was everywhere but in that mall. Besides, I wasn’t buying anything. Buying clothes was a waste of money and since my timeframe was cut down from 6 months to 6 weeks, I needed every dime I could scrounge up.

“What’s wrong?” Aubrey asked.