Chapter 35
Justice was afraid to blink. The gun in John’s hand wasn’t pointed directly at her, but its presence was menacing enough, especially as his hand shook so violently she feared he might accidentally pull the trigger.
Darkness pressed at the edges of her vision, and she realized with a sudden rush of dizziness that she’d forgotten to breathe.
Forcing herself to inhale, the world swam back into clarity, but the nightmare remained painfully real.
Her cousin John, standing under the harsh glow of security lights, was brandishing papers in one trembling hand and a gun in the other.
She fought the urge to run, instinct warring with the desperate hope that someone, anyone, might come to her aid if she could just keep him talking.
Her grip tightened instinctively around the handle of the small garden shovel in her hand.
It wasn’t much, but at least it was something that might offer protection.
Swallowing back fear, she forced calmness into her voice. “Wh… what exactly do you need me to sign?”
John glanced down at the papers, momentarily bewildered, as though he’d forgotten they existed. Then he lifted his eyes to her as though just remembering. “If you sign these, I’ll get a million dollars.”
Her lips parted silently, a stunned disbelief stealing her voice. Finally, she managed to croak, “A million dollars? For… I don’t understand. Who would pay you that money for me to sign?”
“Anthony Milton.”
Justice recoiled slightly, her jaw slackening. “Anthony Milton? The man who wants to tear apart our land for his condos? How do you know him?”
John’s brows knit together, confusion clouding his features again before he jerked his head up and down.
“You don’t need this place,” he insisted, sweeping the gun through the air as if he’d forgotten it was still in his hand.
“Milton will pay you plenty. You and Jack can keep the business and buy any house you want. You don’t need this much land anyway. ”
“John, we’re not selling.” She was still afraid, but the instinctive need to protect what she loved sharpened every word. “This isn’t about money. This is about family. It’s our home.”
His expression twisted bitterly. “Typical. Always selfish, Justice. Always thinking only about yourself.”
Fury sparked inside her, breaking through the fear.
“Selfish? Dad bought this land thirty years ago. This is where I grew up, where our family built our life. Just because some greedy developer wants it doesn’t mean we should give it up.
You wouldn’t like it if I came to Chicago and demanded you sell your house so I could get the money! ”
The silence that followed hung between them, thick and heavy, punctuated only by their ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of Justice’s heart.
“My house?” A scoff barked from his chest. “I got nothing. And you? Mama always said you were selfish, a spoiled brat,” John muttered, bitterness dripping from each word.
Justice felt a wave of exasperation wash over her. “How exactly does she figure that?”
“Because you and Jack got everything from our grandparents! Everything!”
“Your parents got their inheritance long ago, before Grandpa even died,” Justice retorted, her voice sharp with indignation. “And you got the same as I did… an equal amount of our grandparents’ house value.”
“I know that,” John snapped, eyes blazing. “But guess what, Justice? I got nothing from my own useless parents. They went through theirs and then have hounded me ever since!”
“That’s not my fault! That’s not Dad’s fault!”
“Still… you and Uncle Jack walked away with the business that keeps bringing in money. You got what keeps going!”
Frustration, mingled with a sense of hurt, filled every cell in her body as Justice shook her head.
“You have no idea the sacrifices Grandpa made to give your father his share early. He liquidated assets and took out loans against the business to ensure that your father received half. My parents struggled for years afterward, fighting to keep the garage running before they eventually expanded. Nothing was handed to me. I work there every day. I earned my place.”
“You sold the home in town,” John sneered contemptuously. “You got money from that.”
She watched as he lowered the gun, and she wondered if he had forgotten he even had it.
Keeping her voice calm, she responded, “Yes, and you got the value of the home as your inheritance. This is ludicrous! I’m not going to stand here and justify Grandpa’s decisions.
But I was here for Mom when she got sick. That’s why I sold.”
John winced visibly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I know,” he murmured, his gaze briefly dropping in shame. “I’m sorry about Aunt Patty, Justice. I really am. She was always good to me.”
Justice swallowed hard, wishing desperately that the surreal nightmare unfolding around her would end.
John’s weapon was still lowered, his hands trembling.
Maybe he didn’t even know how to use the gun.
Taking a cautious breath, she spoke gently.
“John, this is insane. Whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, signing these papers isn’t the answer. It’s not going to fix anything.”
“Mom said Uncle Jack was dying,” John blurted suddenly, desperation clear in his voice.
Justice jerked back, heart thundering painfully. “What?”
“She said this was the way to get what we needed. All I had to do was try to get you and this guy to leave. I needed a way to get you to sign over the property, sell to Anthony Milton,” John rambled frantically.
“That old man who owned this land was dying, and your dad was having heart surgery. Mom told me we could have it all—that you wouldn’t want to stay here without your dad.
I thought it would be easy. Anthony thought it would be easy.
He loaned me money, Justice, on my word.
And now some grandson shows up out of nowhere to claim the old man’s place, and Jack’s getting better. Everything’s going to hell!”
Justice had heard enough. Whatever twisted plans John had concocted or been coerced into fulfilling, she was finished being his captive audience. Steeling herself, she stepped closer, gripping the handle of the shovel tighter. “Show me those papers.”
Justice’s heart pounded as John stepped closer, the papers trembling in his hand. Adrenaline surged through her, and as soon as he was within striking distance, she swung the small shovel with all her might. It connected with his wrist, and John screamed, dropping to the ground.
Justice didn’t hesitate, spinning around and sprinting through the tall grass of the meadow toward her father’s house, nearly two acres away. The tall grass whipped at her legs as she ran, John’s enraged cries close behind her. Panic rose in her chest, nearly choking her.
She stumbled briefly but caught herself, pushing forward desperately. Nearing, she screamed, “Dad! Dad!”
As she reached the edge of the meadow, the flood lights came on and the back door of her house flew open, slamming against the frame with a sharp crack.
Jack stepped out onto the deck, his face twisted with fury, his rifle firmly gripped and aimed straight at John. “Stop right there, boy,” Jack shouted, his authoritative voice unwavering.
John skidded to a halt, his face twisted in pain and panic. “Dammit, Uncle Jack. No. You don’t understand! I have no choice!”
“What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded sharply.
“This!” John spat, holding up the crumpled legal papers. “Signing the land over to Anthony Milton. He promised me a million dollars. He’ll pay you… He’ll pay you good money!”
“Not happening,” Jack growled fiercely.
“You don’t understand,” John cried, voice cracking with desperation.
“I borrowed money from Anthony Milton. If this doesn’t go through, I’ll go to jail.
They’ll kill me. I thought the old man living out here was dying, and Mom said you weren’t going to make it.
Justice would have to sell, and we’d be set for life! ”
Justice watched as John’s emotional state unraveled further, his hand trembling, still gripping the lowered gun. “John,” she pleaded softly, stepping slightly closer. “This isn’t the way. This isn’t who you are.”
John shook violently, eyes filled with anguish, the gun dangling loosely by his side, his resolve clearly wavering.