Justice (6 page)

Nischal turned around and frowned at him. “What’s wrong with his name? It seems very honourable to me.”

“Does he have siblings named Peace, Truth and American Way?”

Nischal’s scowl darkened. “Don’t be a jerk, Paul.”

That Nischal was irked enough to get onto him knocked Paul back a step mentally. Nischal was either tired of his shit, or he thought Paul was capable of dealing with being scolded.

“One of his siblings is named Vivian,” Nischal informed him. “Ring a bell?”

It did, instantly. Paul could feel his eyes bugging. “This is going to be fucking awkward.” He was disappointed too, because for all his bitching about Preston insisting on getting him help, Paul had secretly been looking forward to it in a way. Hoping that it would do some good. Now… “Jesus, I can’t sit with his sister! I had my—” He snapped his mouth shut so hard it hurt.

Nischal was still watching him, and the ass laughed, enjoying Paul’s discomfort. Apparently Nischal was done pussy-footing around Paul. “Can I guess?”

“No!” Paul and Preston both shouted. Paul glowered at Nischal. “Pervert.”

Nischal winked at him. “You’re the one who mentioned it.”

Paul turned his head and looked out of the window. He didn’t see much more than a blur of green and blue. Preston had to be hauling ass. He closed his eyes again and vowed to stay quiet the rest of the ride. He’d worry about the weirdness of having Justice’s sister as a therapist later on. For now, he wanted to savour the memory of the man’s warm, skilled mouth sealing tight around his dick.

* * * *

Despite having been hungry earlier, Justice didn’t bother hitting up the diner for food. His stomach was in knots and the urge to go after Paul was a battle he didn’t know if he could resist much longer.

Doing the honourable thing, even when his instincts told him it wasn’t, sucked. Everything in him wanted to find Paul and hold him, make him listen. But Paul had already been held against his will for a long time. Justice wouldn’t do the same. He’d wait, and hope that Paul would come to him. They’d be close, anyway, both staying at Grandma Marybeth’s.

Except he couldn’t stay for more than a week. That was all the time he’d got off from work. Groaning, he thumped his head against the steering wheel. There was no way he could get off for longer, and he was certain Paul wasn’t going to declare undying love and return to Phoenix.

Not yet, at least. Maybe not ever, if Paul was too damaged from his past—Justice sat up and shook his head.
No.
“No,” he repeated out loud. “No, I won’t give up on him. There’s a reason we’re mates, and my leopard is just going to have to pipe the fuck down if he doesn’t want Paul scared off.”

At the threat, his leopard did indeed pipe the fuck down, though there was some pathetic mewling, much like the human version of whining.

“We’ll do our best, buddy, but Paul’s health, mentally and physically, has to come first.” Justice wasn’t going to give up just because the road was likely to be rough. He wasn’t a quitter.

He parked the car again and got out. A check of his phone showed the time to be a little before two. Hopefully Viv was done with her errands. He wanted to get their coming conversation over with as soon as possible, then get to Grandma’s.

Justice texted Viv and got an almost instant reply. He headed over to the antique store, unsurprised to find his sister carrying several bags of stuff she’d bought. All but one of the bags bore the name of the boutique she’d gone to. The other one had the pharmacy’s name on it.

“Let me have some of those.” He took all of them since she shoved them at him.

“Thanks. Those bag are heavy as all get-out.” She rubbed at the red marks on her right arm. “I was thinking about getting Grandma that lamp over there.” She pointed at something that looked more like a piece of art than a lamp to him. Not the pretty art, either, but the fussy, pretentious, you’ll-never-figure-out-what-it-is-because-you-aren’t-smart-enough kind of art.

“Seriously?” he asked.

The sales clerk raised his head and glared at him. Justice shrugged. He hadn’t even noticed the thin man standing behind the counter until then.

Viv only hummed and walked over to the lamp.

Justice followed her, trying not to knock anything over with the bags. Considering the crap in the store, and how cluttered the place was, that was probably the only way they made any sales.

“Viv, I really need to talk to you,” he muttered as he got closer to her.

She stopped and pivoted around. She sniffed and he felt his blush on every inch of his skin. Viv planted a hand on one of her narrow hips. “Really, bub? I leave you alone for what, an hour, and you—” She looked around then lowered her voice. “Get laid? How does that even happen? I can’t even get laid that easy and I’m an attractive woman!”

He winced, not wanting to think about his little sister and sex.
Not in this world.
She was going to remain a virgin in his mind forever just like his younger brothers. He didn’t have a double standard for his siblings.

“Can I help you?”

The snootily asked question had him and Viv both sending startled looks towards the sales clerk.

“I’ll take this lamp if you’ll knock ten bucks off the price,” Viv said, turning back to the ugly thing. “Grandma will love it.”

“If you say so.” Personally, Justice thought Marybeth would end up setting it on one of the coffee tables so either the dogs or a great-grandkid would knock it off and break it. That’s what he’d do.

“It’s a very high-quality piece of art,” came that snotty voice again.

Justice rolled his eyes and sealed his lips shut. Telling the sales clerk it was fugly as hell would just be rude and confrontational. “I’ll take these bags to the car then drive over and pick you up. And the lamp.”

Justice edged his way out of the shop. The salesman turned his nose up and actually sniffed like some bad parody of a stuck-up jackass. The laughter slipped out of Justice before he could stop it. He rushed out of the door and kept chuckling almost all the way to the car.

Once he had everything loaded into the back seat, he got in and started the car. The seat belt buckle was hot from the sunlight. He snapped it in place and put the car in gear. As he drove down the street, he saw Viv step outside. The salesman was right beside her, holding that atrocious lamp.

As far as Justice could tell, the lamp was glass. Well, pieces of glass, and not in that pretty way that one company made lamps. This one kind of looked like someone had puked all over the place and the vomit had turned into glass. It was bile-green and shit-brown, and there were sparkly rhinestones and sequins on it. Maybe that was the name of the ‘art’—Body Expulsions.

Grandma Marybeth was going to be surprised, that was for sure. Her decorating style was more country than…hell, he didn’t even know what to call that lamp other than hideous.

He unfastened the seatbelt then got out to take the lamp and put it in the car, but the salesman huffed again and twisted away from him. “It’s very delicate, not for the hands of brutes.”

“What century do you think we’re in?” Justice asked. “Brutes?”

“Imbecile.”

“Well, all righty then.” Justice couldn’t help but grin at the puffed-up guy. A little flattery wouldn’t hurt, though, because he hadn’t meant to be a prick. “You do indignant really well. The red in your cheeks brings out the colour of your eyes.”

“My eyes are brown, and red is hardly likely to change that in any way.”

Justice gave up. Sometimes winning the battle meant taking away the ammunition, which in this case would be anything he said. He got back in the car and buckled up. The AC was just beginning to cool the car off and he wiped at the sweat on his brow.

Despite the potential problems, he was eager to get to Grandma Marybeth’s. Hopefully he would see Paul again when they got there. Of course, there was always the very likely chance that Paul was going to hate him and hide from him.

Or…
Maybe not. At least, maybe not for long. If the mate-bond works for us like it has for everyone else it’s happened to, maybe Paul will be so drawn to me that he can’t hate me. But would that fuck up his head?

“Would it?” Justice asked himself, letting the question sink in and grab him by the balls. He didn’t want Paul to have worse problems because of him.

“Are you talking to yourself?” Viv asked as she opened the car door.

“Singing,” he answered distractedly, trying to figure out whether him being Paul’s mate could be a good thing for the man.

“You can’t carry a tune in a bucket,” Viv informed him as she sat and closed the door.

“Buckle up, brat.” Justice didn’t argue about his singing skills or lack thereof. His singing voice could peel the paint right off the walls.

“So what was so important that you had to talk to me immediately?” she asked him. “And why were you giving Clark a hard time?”

“Clark? Who the fuck is Clark?” Justice checked for traffic then pulled out onto Main.

“That very nice, and very gay, salesman back there.” She smacked his arm. Damn, he was going to be bruised before the day ended. “Oh, wait, you don’t care because you found someone to fuck already.”

“Clark was a bit pompous for me.” Which was being nice and generous on Justice’s part. “And gross, sis. Don’t talk about my sex life so blatantly.”

“You reek of—”

“Stop!” he yelped before she could get any further. “I found my mate, okay?”

Viv leant forward and squealed. “You did? Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Shouldn’t you two be attached at the—”

“Viv,” he warned.

“Hip?” she finished.

Justice exhaled and tapped the steering wheel as he drove. “I also met Paul.” A side glance showed him Viv’s frown.

“Paul? What does he have to do with your mate?” But before he could even answer, Viv smacked him again, hard. “He’s your mate, and you had sex with him?”

“Stop screeching, and for fuck’s sake, stop hitting me!” Justice snapped, shooting a glare at her. “Maybe you should check into your aggressive tendencies and do something about that.”

Viv flipped him off. “You’re my brother, and I’ll smack you when you need it.”

“I didn’t know he was Paul when I followed him into the bathroom.”

“Oh my God,” Viv gasped. “You had a sleazy bathroom encounter? People really do that?”

“Viv, focus.” He tried to organise his thoughts but gave up and just blurted it all out. “I stopped at the gas station.” He gestured to it as they drove past. “Had to go the restroom, but as soon as I stepped inside the store, I felt—I don’t know. Like everything inside of me was alive for the first time ever. I didn’t know what the hell that meant.” He wasn’t going to mention the nearly instantaneous boner, either. “When I was heading to the restroom, this short, sexy guy stepped in front of me. He had bleached white-blond hair and green eyes.”

“Bleached hair? Not orange?”

“Not orange,” he confirmed. “Otherwise, maybe it would have clicked? I don’t know. I was so bulldozed by lust that I wasn’t even thinking.”
Ew. I can’t believe I just admitted that to my little sister!
“He looked back at me and I just knew he wanted me like I wanted him. So I followed him into the restroom.”

“Did he use a condom?”

Justice glanced at her and realised she was taking notes on her phone. “What are you doing? Oh my God, are you taking notes on what I’m telling you? About my sex life?”

“About Paul’s behaviour,” she said only a little snarkily. “Get over your prudish self.”

“I’m not a prude, it’s just weird to have my sister writing down shit about stuff like that.” He understood the why of it, however, so he quit bitching. “Yes, he put a condom on.” Something occurred to him. “Wait, how’d you know he’d be putting on a condom?”

Viv clicked her tongue before answering. “I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential information.”

Well, he wasn’t stupid. If she knew Paul would have been wearing a condom, that was probably because his proclivity was to top and be in control. Understandable, considering the man’s past. It also scared the fuck out of Justice. He’d dropped to his knees eagerly, but usually he was the one calling the shots—and he always topped. Could he bottom if Paul needed him to?

“It’s good that he used a condom, though those things taste disgusting,” Viv said.

“No.” Justice shook his head. “No, you didn’t just tell me you’ve—no, just no, Viv. Take that back!”

“Better be nice to me or I’ll give you the details,” she threatened. “How did Paul react? Did he touch you in return?”

“Viv, I am not going over what happened between us with you. I will say he didn’t freak out. Neither of us spoke.” Justice almost missed the turnoff for their grandma’s place. He braked hard and turned onto the dirt and gravel road. “Then Preston began banging on the door, and he said Paul’s name, and everything clicked. For me. Not for Paul. I think that happened later, when Preston thought he was rescuing Paul from me outside.”

Justice told the rest of the story and Viv kept taking notes. They pulled into Grandma Marybeth’s long driveway and Justice slowed the car down to a crawl. “Do you think what we did is going to make things worse for him?”

“I don’t know,” Viv said in her usual blunt manner. “Maybe, maybe not. The thing is, I don’t know what it feels like to have a mate bond. From what I’ve heard, that bond should only help, not harm. It could be that you will offer a stability he really needs, but I’d hold off on the sex if you can. Let him initiate it, and if you can’t do what he wants, then offer something else you can both agree on.”

Justice clenched his butt. That sounded a lot like Viv was telling him Paul would want to top. “What about his fear of shifters?”

“He’s here, isn’t he?” Viv asked. “There are shifters all over the place. I think the main problem is with wolf shifters. They were the ones who hurt him.”

Just hearing those words caused a wave of rage to roll over Justice. He had to take several deep breaths to fight it back down.

“Interesting,” Viv crooned. Justice ignored her. He parked the car in the drive then unbuckled after turning the engine off.