Chapter 14
He woke the second time to Megan placing wet kisses against his chest.
Her soft chuckles tickled his nipples while her tongue tormented the same sensitive flesh.
Her hand wrapped around a cock that was already hard and dripping with need and stroked him up and down.
His eyes fluttered open and focused on the beauty draped across his body.
She’d given him the best blow job of his life and watched Malachi fuck him with a heated intensity that had taken Justice’s breath away…
but this morning, she was sweet and fun-loving Megan again.
She was the same woman that had shared secrets with him during their long phone conversations.
Her eyes, as always, looked at him with a warmth that made him think he was lovable.
Her love made him forget all about his issues and his past…
and just feel loved.
Fuck, but that was dangerous.
“Good morning,” he greeted in a voice that was still weak from what they’d done last night.
Hell, had he graduated from whimpering and moved up to screaming?
His throat felt like it.
“Bossy man wants you in the gym in twenty-seven minutes. Think we can both get off that quick?”
“I’m going to give it my best shot,” Justice answered with a smirk.
He flipped her onto her back and then froze.
“Shit…wait…can I?” He didn’t have a clue what he was allowed and not allowed to do when it came to Megan.
He felt his cheeks warm.
A condom popped up from between her fingers.
“Why…yes, you can, pretty boy,” she confirmed with a saucy smile of her own.
“Your body belongs to us, Justice. Our bodies belong to you, too.”
His heart did a cartwheel in his chest.
Danger.
He needed to understand the rules, but he was pretty sure he was beginning to get confused.
Making love wasn’t supposed to be on his list of options.
They could fuck him, but making love?
That wasn’t supposed to happen.
He saw Megan’s eyes widen with confusion.
Hell, he wouldn’t have that.
Not his Megan.
“Twenty-six minutes, doll. Let’s get busy,” he purred.
Almost two hours later, he led no name down into the courtyard.
Malachi had nearly killed him in the gym, making certain he toppled him every chance he got since Dante and Jasper were also working out together.
They’d left thirty minutes before he and Malachi had finished, leaving them alone in the gym.
Malachi had bent him over one of the workout benches and fucked him with the same determined purpose as he always demonstrated.
Opening the French doors that led to the spot where the dogs ran, he hoped to hell he wasn’t walking funny.
Jasper, Mr.
Goldilocks Quiet Guy wouldn’t say anything, but he had no doubts Travis would call him on it.
The guy was hilarious.
Jasper was scary.
He put on his friendliest face when Travis waved him over.
“What is this? The sub club?” He asked Travis and Jasper as he approached them.
No name was already starting to tremble next to him.
The poor bastard was terrified of the tiny terrier dog that belonged to Susannah.
“Ha! Good one, new guy!” Travis bellowed with one of his ridiculously cute laughs.
There was no doubting that Travis was gay…
not bisexual…
pure, undiluted gay.
You also couldn’t question his love and devotion toward Dante and Susannah.
Justice found it somewhat comical, but the guy had also appointed himself Jasper’s body guard.
He rarely left the kid’s side unless Susannah was with the blonde boy.
He’d watched Jasper and Dante in the gym this morning…
Jasper didn’t need anybody to protect him.
The boy fought with an intensity and fierceness that screamed he’d been through hell and viewed his training as though he might need to use it to survive one day.
Goldilocks was cordial to Malachi, but Justice could pick up a few ticks he demonstrated whenever they were close to one another.
He supposed the boy was still struggling with the fact that Nicholas was Malachi’s father and Nicholas, from what Malachi had told him, had done horrendous things to Jasper.
Because he belonged to Malachi, the boy just watched him and Justice had the feeling he was being studied like a science project.
It gave him the willies.
He feared the super smart kid could see straight into his soul…
see his ugly weaknesses…
expose them to everybody.
“Sub club, that’s a good one,” Travis muttered, completely oblivious to the way Jasper was making Justice uncomfortable with his quiet, intense gaze.
“Well, except for Jasper. He thinks himself to be a switch!”
Justice frowned.
“What’s a switch?”
“Are you kidding me?” Travis’ mouth popped wide open in disbelief.
“You don’t know what a switch is? You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” He snorted.
It wasn’t a mean snort…
just disbelief and laughter at Malachi’s choice of a third.
“I bet you keep him all twisted up on the inside! He’s always been such a ‘my sub will do this’ Hitler. I love that you’re keeping him on his toes.”
Justice wasn’t sure if he needed to be insulted or…
well, just insulted, he guessed.
“Don’t pay him any attention,” Jasper said in a voice that was laced with affection for his friend…
and wariness of the new kid.
“He doesn’t get on well with Malachi, so he won’t miss any opportunity to torment him. You may think some of it is at your expense, but he won’t mean it that way. He’s all about jerking Malachi’s chain.” He shrugged and offered Justice one his rare smiles.
Shit, the kid was even more beautiful when he smiled.
Angels were probably singing somewhere…
“Yea, they seem to get along really great,” Justice laughed.
Travis stuck his tongue out at both of them, proving it would take much more than that to get his colorful feathers ruffled.
“I saw you in the gym this morning. You totally kick ass, dude. No way Malachi taught you all that in three weeks.” Travis smirked in Jasper’s direction.
“He can already kick your pretty boy ass.”
Justice grunted out a laugh.
“I didn’t see you working out. Where in the hell were you?” He usually didn’t miss much about his surroundings.
Hell, was he so focused on watching Malachi’s muscles ripple that he didn’t see an entire person?
Fuck, but he had it bad.
“Travis working out? Pleeeaaassseee,” Jasper mocked.
“The only way this guy is going to break a sweat is when Dante is working him over in the bedroom or playroom. The gym is a spectator sport for Travis, he comes to watch Dante work me over.”
“He looks so fucking hot…muscles rippling and dancing, just begging me to touch him. There’s absolutely no way I’m missing the opportunity to see that erotic show, but I’m not learning all that shit myself. Nosiree, I’ve got me a man and an entire security team to take care of protecting my ass.” His eyes glittered toward Justice as he continued, “But, seriously, you can already kick Jasper’s ass. How did you get so skilled, so fast? We all know Malachi’s a bad ass, but he isn’t a miracle-worker.”
Jasper turned in his direction and Justice was thankful that Goldilocks wasn’t letting Travis’ continuous goading get to him.
A soft nonthreatening smile was still on his face, so Justice answered.
“My dad is FBI, naturally he promotes that kind of skill as being almost as important as knowing when to say ‘yes, ma’am’ and ‘no, sir’. He’s had me in classes ever since I could walk. Dad taught me to fight, Malachi is teaching me to fight dirty.”
“That’s sounds just like our Malachi. I bet he was pissed that you were already so cool. I’d venture a guess that he wouldn’t like anybody to challenge him.”
Justice knew he was being played.
Travis, innocently enough, was trying his best to get him to say something…
anything he could use to torment Malachi.
He wasn’t falling for it, though.
It was comical to watch the smaller twink challenge alpha Malachi, but he wasn’t going to be the one to give him any ammunition.
He had a feeling his ass would be the one to pay for a slip of the tongue and he damned well knew how well Malachi could punish an ass.
He opted for a change of subject.
“Shit, look at that,” Justice grumbled as he nodded toward no name, which was busy crawling on his belly in front of tiny Wallace.
The big bloodhound didn’t have a clue he had the body to be alpha.
“I’ve checked…he’s got balls.” He shrugged.
“He just isn’t interested in using them, I guess.”
Travis burst out laughing and even Jasper, who rarely laughed out loud unless Susannah was with him, barked out a laugh.
“Yea, your dog is totally submissive…like the three of us,” Travis said.
“What’s his name, anyway? I haven’t heard anybody call him by anything other than no name. You’ve got to name him, he’s a beauty.”
“Sal,” Justice answered.
He’d been tossing it around in his head for the last twenty four hours and had finally settled on Sal…
short for Salvation.
Christopher Conners had been his salvation, rescuing him from a harsh life of no love and no touching.
Malachi had rescued Sal from that same fate.
Salvation.
Nobody else needed to know what Sal stood for.
That belonged to him.
He looked up to find Jasper watching him closely…
again, a strange expression on the face that was way-too-pretty.
Goldilocks belonged on a runway in a swanky European country.
He had decided…
the kid creeped him out.
He was too quiet…
saw too much.
He had a feeling Jasper Madewell, given just a wee bit of time, would be able to see clear into his soul.
“Sal?” Goldilocks asked with an arched brow and, just like that, Justice knew the sneaky bastard was on to him.
He might not know exactly what he was hiding about the dog, but he knew there was something there.
The voice, naturally husky and fucking sexy, sounded relaxed and friendly.
Ah, one nut job reaching out to another!
Nope, wasn’t going to happen.
Jasper might be able to pick up on his I-see-a-psychiatrist vibe, but nobody else needed to know.
“Yep,” he popped out the p with a smack.
“Just Sal.”
Travis’ eyes darted between the two of them as he appeared to be trying to figure out where the fog of tension had suddenly come from.
Both he and Jasper remained relaxed, a friendly smile on both of their faces…
just like they both used to trick their ‘nut’ doctors.
After a few seconds, he dropped down a Defcon level.
He turned to Justice, a twinkle in his green eyes.
“I’m dying to know. Whatever did you think about our Malachi when you first met him? Asshole? Fucktard? Neandethral? Devil’s servant?” He grinned even bigger.
“The Devil, himself?”
Justice laughed.
Travis wanted so badly to make everybody think he disliked Malachi, but the cute little twink wasn’t pulling it off.
His love for Dante wouldn’t allow him that luxury.
“Eh…Stranger Danger?” He joked, referring to all the classes his father taught children, dragging him along to every one of them when he was a rebellious, trouble-making tyke.
“Then he started touching my private places inappropriately…”
He shrugged like the rest of the story was history.
Travis, the consummate gossip, rubbed his hands together in glee and his eyes darkened with pure excitement.
“Do tell, pretty boy. Did he fuck you that first night? On the plane? Tie you up in the playroom and introduce your straight body to all the wicked delights of what another man can do to light your bod up?” He waggled his brows like a total idiot.
“Why call me straight? You walked in on Malachi and me in bed together.” He was interested in how Travis had managed to read him so easily.
Not at all concerned with the fact that he now found men attractive, he still wondered if he looked different…
acted different.
Did he have an ‘I-love-cock-in-my-ass’ look on his face?
He frowned.
To be completely honest, he only found Malachi attractive that way.
Travis was fun and Jasper was pretty, but he didn’t want to climb into the sack with either one of them.
Jasper’s eyes had drifted away when they’d started down the man-on-man discussion and Justice felt bad.
He didn’t know everything that had happened to the boy, but he knew he had been raped…
violently raped by Malachi’s father and his friend, Victor.
The conversation didn’t feel appropriate and he tried to eye-signal Travis.
“Nah…we’re good,” Travis said when he caught the look on Justice’s face.
“We don’t baby Jasper, he doesn’t want us to. If he isn’t comfortable with our conversation, he will leave. Right, kiddo?”
“Yep,” Jasper answered.
Justice could see that remaining there, listening to them talk, was a challenge for Goldilocks…
but he was working his way through it.
It made him wonder if he could maybe face all his shit one day…
face it down and win the fight like Jasper was so obviously doing.
Travis tapped his chin, acting like he was deep in thought.
“Ah, you being straight? That’s what we were talking about, wasn’t it?”
Jasper’s smirk gave him the courage to continue.
“Yep, that’s where we were. Why did you assume I was straight before hooking up with Malachi?”
“Let me see.” He tapped his chin again.
“Maybe it was because you had an ‘I’ve just been fucked for the first time’ look on your face when Dante and I intruded in on your love nest yesterday morning.” He grinned even bigger.
“Maybe it’s because every guy is straight until someone introduces him to his prostate. You tap that baby and we all start thinking that maybe having something shoved up our ass isn’t so bad after all!”
Justice couldn’t stop his eyes from flickering toward Jasper.
Goldilocks shrugged.
“It doesn’t have to be a cock. Other stuff works just as well.”
“Hell, yea, it does,” Justice heard himself say.
The rest of the day moved fairly fast.
Justice had finally met the rest of the Jericho castle crew…
since they had missed Gretchen’s big dinner last night.
He was pretty certain everybody else had made it, but he’d been passed out from orgasm overload…
like a pussy.
Gretchen was a sweetheart that acted like she lived, absolutely lived, to mother all of them.
She doted on each person and Justice quickly realized he wasn’t going to be treated any differently.
Beatrice, Gretchen’s daughter, was a hoot, and apparently dating Dustin.
That had happened while Malachi was babysitting him in Tennessee.
Susannah was totally in love with Jasper.
It was almost painful to watch the two of them together.
He wanted that…
even if he knew it wasn’t for him.
Love wasn’t his thing.
He’d met with his lawyer and they’d found out he was supposed to be at the courthouse tomorrow morning.
He was thankful that it was finally going to be settled.
Malachi had ramped up to Defcon Level ‘fucking crazy’ when he’d heard Justice had to make an appearance.
Justice thought the dude worried way too much…
but he liked the thought that Malachi worried way too much about him.
It made him feel like a creeper, but he still relished the warm feeling it gave him.
His dad was going to be there, with his team, to make certain Justice was protected…
just in case O’Hara decided to try something.
He dreaded seeing his dad because he damned well knew how worried the man would be about him and his threesome with Malachi and Megan.
Christopher Conners might not be his blood father, but he loved him more than he could have ever dreamed was possible.
His dad also knew how dangerous relationships were to him.
Add that little worrisome issue to the fact that an Irish drug lord might very well want Justice dead…
his dad would be crazy before the issue was resolved.
Witness number two had somehow managed to survive the gunshot wound to the head, but he still didn’t have any recollection of what had happened…
or what his own name was.
The guy, six years older than him, had a long road of recovery ahead of him and it didn’t involve a trial that was all over the news stations.
For his safety, they’d kept his survival a secret.
Since Justice hadn’t been injured at all, he was apparently fair game to the O’Hara clan and the media.
The media, just to goad his father, referred to him as the director’s son that paid fifty dollar to make him holler.
Yea, like that little fuckfest hadn’t cost him about five hundred big ones…
and he hadn’t gotten laid or spanked!
According to Malachi, the playroom was off limits until after the O’Hara issue was resolved and he was one hundred percent they were all safe.
Malachi didn’t want to be distracted.
Justice kind of thought being hornier than hell might be distracting, but his Dom wasn’t backing down at all.
No nookie until the trial was over.
Luckily, his part was only supposed to last one day, go in, sing like a bird, come home to his new life.
It should be simple.
He had a feeling it was going to be a disaster…
Justice was grumpy by the time they reached the courthouse the next morning.
He’d slept between Megan and Malachi last night, but other than a passionate kiss from Megan and a ruffle of his hair from Malachi, they hadn’t touched him.
It had been torture.
Malachi knew he didn’t do the cuddle thingie, but made him lay there anyway.
He’d finally tied him up at around two am, but the grumpiness had already settled into his horny head.
To top that off, Malachi woke up on the war path because of his worry over security.
To top off that top off, he had to face his dad.
Oh, and there were cameras everywhere .
They were currently still in the back of Dante’s bulletproof SUV, but he could see the flashes of cameras coming from every direction.
He felt like a fucking fool.
Malachi looked mad enough to kill him.
He’d caught a glimpse of his dad on the small television screen in the back of their vehicle…
and he looked pissed, too.
Perfect.
“The next time you decide you need to pay for sex, call me first, okay, pet?” Malachi growled.
Justice thought about punching him right in the face.
Instead, he said, “Yes, Sir.”
Malachi rolled his eyes.
“You ready, boss?” He heard Dustin’s voice through Malachi’s hidden ear set.
“O’Hara isn’t on sight yet. Conners’ men have the front cleared out for you. You’ll have to get him through about twenty yards of a nosey media gauntlet, but that should be it. We’ve got men everywhere. Don’t worry, M. Your boy will be safe.”
“My boy needs his ass spanked for getting involved with this shit show,” Malachi grumbled under his breath.
“We’re ready, Dustin. Open the doors in ten seconds.”
“I was trying to get my ass spanked,” Justice argued.
“That’s what got me into trouble to begin with!”
Malachi’s hand cupped his cock through the thin fabric of his dress pants.
He fucking hated dress pants.
He fucking loved Malachi’s hand on him…
anywhere on him.
“Who do you belong to, pet?”
“You, Sir.”
“Stay next to me the entire time. If I tell you to drop, you drop. No questions or smartass remarks, just do as you’re told. Got it?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Malachi’s eyes hungrily assaulted him, from the tip of his head all the way down to his feet.
He shook his head and smiled.
“Meg’s going to kill you for those Converse tennis shoes. I distinctly recall her telling you dress shoes…and laying them out for you.”
Justice glanced down at his sneakers.
No way was he wearing those old-man dress shoes she had chosen for him.
He might need to run for his life, for crying out loud!
He couldn’t do that in old man shoes.
“I’ll take my punishment, Sir.”
“Your shoes look sexier than fuck, pet.” The locks on the doors clicked.
“Let’s go, lover. Right by my side. Don’t look up when the photographers scream your name and don’t offer them fifty dollars.”
The fifty dollars in his pocket suddenly felt hot.
How the hell did the man know him so well already?
He’d thought it would be real funny to offer someone in the media fifty dollars since they’d given him his nickname.
Guess not.
All in all, it went well.
He didn’t fall or stumble and the fifty dollars stayed tucked safely in his pockets.
Malachi’s tight grip made him look a bit like a twink being manhandled by his lover, but Justice was okay with that.
Hell, he was more than okay with that.
His father?
Not so much…
Once they were safely inside the courthouse, away from the screaming media, Malachi maneuvered them into the spot that he and Dustin felt was the safest, just in case something happened that required them to choose between fight and flight.
He’d barely caught his breath before his father closed in on them.
His eyes, the same blue as his own even if he wasn’t his father, glared in Malachi’s direction.
Malachi didn’t blink.
It was a cold-as-ice stare down between the two alpha men.
“Malachi,” Christopher hissed when they were finally facing off, only inches separating them.
“Director Conners,” Malachi answered respectfully, causing the other man’s eyes to arch almost right off his head.
Malachi being polite was clearly something new to him.
His cold glare drifted between the man he who knew to be a Dom and his son…
who was apparently submissive…
and bisexual.
Shit, but this babysitting job had gone straight to hell in a handbasket.
He didn’t want his son hurt, and he damned well knew Malachi was quite capable of doing that.
He also knew Justice was just as capable, himself.
“I need to discuss some things with my son.” His eyes dared the man to challenge him.
“In private.”
“I can’t allow that, Director Conners. I need to ensure his safety at all times.” He pointed to a corner spot that offered the protection of two walls behind them.
“Is that spot private enough? I’ll give you as much space as possible…and still keep my boy safe.”
Conners grit his teeth together to keep from snarling at the man he’d trusted to protect his son…
only to find out he was tying him up so he could spank and fuck his ass.
He wanted to rip Malachi’s eyes out…
he wanted to wrap Justice in a hug that could protect him from the heartbreak that would surely be coming his way…
he wanted his son to find love…
“Don’t push me, Malachi. Dante is the only reason you are still alive right now.”
“Dad,” Justice hissed in surprise.
He grabbed his dad’s upper arm and led him to the spot Malachi had indicated.
Poor Malachi, he thought the director was mad at him.
He knew his dad was worried for him.
“Justice,” his dad muttered and then pulled him into a tight hug that would have been totally unacceptable to most guys Justice’s age.
Justice soaked in the affectionate touch, recognizing it as a safe touch for him.
Christopher Conners loved him, always had and always would.
It killed him to know he was the cause of his dad’s worries right now.
He’d been nothing but fucking trouble since the moment he’d been pulled out of that filthy crack house.
“What are you doing, son? You know this is dangerous for you.”
Justice watched as his father’s fingers traced the path of the words on his wrists.
He’d been there with him when he’d gotten the tattoos.
He knew why they were there, how badly they were needed in order to help him stay grounded.
Focus.
His father’s eyes were damp with unshed tears.
“I’ve got this, dad. I promise,” he said in a hushed tone that he hoped Malachi couldn’t hear.
He’d already noticed his lover’s violet eyes track the way his father focused on the tattoos.
“I’m not going to screw up…again.” Shit, but he sounded pathetic.
There was no way his father could have any faith in him when he sounded like such a fucking weakling.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, Justice.” His dad whispered.
His hands still gripped Justice’s wrists tightly, like he was afraid of letting go.
“I’ve seen what this can do to you and I damned well don’t want to see it happen again. You’re too important to me and your mother. Please, son,” he pleaded.
“Please tell me you’ve got everything under control.”
Justice felt like the little drug-addicted motherless bastard kid again.
He was a grown fucking man one minute and a whimpering whelp the next.
The taste of fear and loneliness still lingered in his mouth…
and mind.
Eight years.
He had lived eight years without love or affection, without anyone touching him unless it was to abuse his body in some way.
He was twenty one years old now.
That meant he’d lived thirteen years with nothing but love and affection from his adopted parents.
Why the hell, then, did the eight years always override the thirteen?
Why couldn’t he let it go?
Ten fucking years of therapy with the FBI’s finest and he was still fucked up in the head.
He was still that little boy in the closet, hiding and hoping.
“Malachi and Megan won’t hurt me. I know my place in this…relationship, dad. I won’t let things get out of control.”
His dad’s gaze dropped to stare at his wrists.
Justice knew it was to hide the pain in his eyes.
He knew Justice was going to fuck up.
He didn’t want it to happen, but knew it would.
He’d been there all the times before.
He’d had to pick up the pieces…
“I don’t think they will hurt you on purpose.” A nervous hand swept through his hair as he struggled to come up with the right words…
words that wouldn’t break his son’s heart but still give him a proper warning.
“Hell, the alpha dick is smitten with you, that much is painfully obvious.” His eyes rose to spear Justice’s gaze.
“Does he know?”
“Doesn’t need to,” Justice answered bitterly.
“I’m fine. I’ve got this.”
“I know what you’re trying to do, son! I know. You’re trying to hide your feelings with this type of relationship. You’re thinking you don’t deserve love…real love and settling for something purely sexual instead.” His hands gripped Justice’s tattoos even tighter…
his eyes even more desperate and troubled.
“Stop hiding, son,” he pleaded.
“If you keep hiding, you’re going to miss something really special.”
Fuck, he didn’t think he had even a chance of making this work.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Malachi’s body tense as he watched Justice’s dad plead…
and put too much damned focus on his tattoos.
His lover looked confused, almost hurt, as he tried to understand what was going on.
He forced his eyes away.
He couldn’t deal with that shit right now.
His dad was wrong, a purely sexual relationship was exactly what he needed…
was the only thing he could handle without turning it into some sort of freak show.
“I know that. I love you guys, too.” He pulled him into a hug.
“I’m going to be fine,” he whispered into his dad’s ear.
“You’ll always be that little boy in the closet to me, Justice. Don’t get mad because I’m always worrying or trying to protect you.”
“Won’t happen,” Justice said quickly.
Then, as a weak attempt at a joke, he added, “You know how desperate I am for affection, I love that you still worry about me.”
Eyes darkened in warning.
“Justice, don’t joke about…”
Malachi quickly moved in, positioning his body protectively in front of Justice.
“He’s here. You guys need to finish this argument later.”
Justice and his father’s gaze traveled in the direction that Malachi was looking.
The Jericho security team had already formed a protective circle around the three of them.
Papa O’Hara was making an appearance after all.
This was precisely what they had been afraid of.
The very fact that the O’Hara patriarch was at the courthouse sent red flags waving from every corner and Malachi’s instinct to protect what was his was rearing its dominant head.
“Shit! What the fuck is he doing here?” Conners hissed.
Like Malachi, his body automatically moved to protect his son and he immediately started talking to his team through his headset.
“What are you going to do, Justice?” Malachi asked softly, his eyes never leaving the older man as he continued to make his way toward them.
“Hide behind you two like a trembling girl,” Justice answered dryly.
His father snorted back a laugh.
“Well, I see you haven’t made any progress with his smart mouth, Malachi,” he taunted playfully.
“We are working on continuous improvement, sir. He’s come a long way.” His eyes cut around to look at his lover.
The smirk on his face made it clear he may have taken a few baby steps…
but that was it.
“Okay, he’s the same smart ass as he was the first day we met. I like him just fine that way,” he added softly.
Director Conners stood, with his mouth wide open, staring at Malachi.
Disbelief was written all over his face.
He’d been around Malachi quite a bit over the past year…
and this man was not acting like the Malachi he knew.
“What the hell do you want, O’Hara?” Malachi asked in a deadly voice that dared the drug lord to challenge him.
The older O’Hara had about eight of his men surrounding him…
ready to go head-to-head with Justice’s security.
“You have no business being here from what I’ve heard.”
Pale blue eyes, old and weary, gazed back at them.
The man looked like he had aged ten years since his son’s arrest several months back.
His shoulders were hunched and his face pale and pinched with worry.
It was pathetic to see another father suffer because of the sins of his son, but Malachi would be damned if he got anywhere near his boy.
Justice belonged to him and Megan and he would protect him with his very life if it called for it.
“I’ve come to apologize to the boy…and to see that my son is punished for his transgressions.”
Director Conners hissed out a string of curse words that would have gotten Justice grounded.
“Yea, right, like we are going to believe that bullshit. You need to walk away and leave before something really bad happens, old man. It would be our honor to blow you to bits right here on our good American soil.”
“Even…people of my type have boundaries, director. The place my son,” he glanced around Malachi’s body to pin Justice with a fatherly stare, “and your son visited played in the human trafficking arena from everything I’ve been able to gather. I might be able to turn a blind eye to prostitution, but I don’t sell or condone the selling of young people for sex. I’m concerned whether you believe me or not. I’m simply here to ensure my son’s punishment is handled properly.” Another glance toward Justice and he added, “Perhaps you should consider reigning your son in, as well.”
“My son is fucking fine and dandy, O’Hara,” Conners said through gritted teeth.
“You need to walk away and not look back in our direction. His testimony will lock your son up for a very long time and none of us really give a care if you support that or not.”
“I understand.” The older gentleman answered.
To Justice, he said, “Good luck, son. Let this be a lesson learned for you. Those types of places are nothing but dangerous and ill-fated. Stay away from them in the future.”
Malachi was aware of everything happening around him.
He knew Justice was safely tucked directly behind his body, seething from being treated like a helpless victim, but safe nonetheless.
Some of Dustin’s men were enclosing them in a protective circle while others were scattered throughout the hallway, blending in with the crowd but ready to strike if necessary.
Several of the news media crew had managed to get inside the courthouse and were snapping pictures with the same intensity that sharks demonstrated in a feeding frenzy.
None of them had weapons…
they had been allowed to bring anything into the courthouse.
They didn’t need them.
He would kill each of them with his bare hands if they made the fucking mistake of trying to take what belonged to him.
O’Hara’s thugs, from the bulges beneath their jackets, had managed to get some type of weapon inside, probably a knife of some kind.
Wasn’t that just fucking perfect?
The drug lord’s men were tense and nervous…
which made Malachi tense and nervous.
The old man?
He looked perfectly calm and entirely too innocent.
He’d always prided himself on being able to read body language.
Old man O’Hara’s body was telling him the words tumbling from his mouth were true…
at least the old man believed them.
He was about to breathe a sigh of relief…
when the entire scene around him exploded with movement.