Page 2 of The Price They Paid

CHAPTER 1

Justice

JUSTICE. I THINK MY MOTHER chose that name for me because she could never find any. From what I understood, she never amounted to anything. Between the drugs and the men, she couldn’t stay afloat. My adoptive parents, Paul and Sharon Everette, were the exact opposite. They came from old money, and they made sure that I had the best upbringing. I was a good girl for them because I understood that the role that they played wasn’t something that they had to do. They wanted a child to love and cherish unlike the addict that birthed me.

My mom and dad were so successful at parenting that on my eighteenth birthday my world completely shattered apart. They planned a surprise party for me, but it took them longer to set up the venue than they expected. That’s the reason why my father was speeding when he came to get me from school. They were late picking me up from cheerleading practice and didn’t want to chance me catching a ride home with one of the other girls.

Ms. Sandy told me that they were extremely excited that I was turning eighteen. Probably more excited than I was. I could just imagine how happily my mother chatted in the car to my dad. She’d probably asked him if she’d baked enough, or if she should stop and get more food. She was always feeding people. It was her gift. Her love of food was something I’d picked up along the way. My dad was probably salivating over the feast she’d prepared and wasn’t nervous about a thing. He was relaxed and cool even though he was a perfectionist. That party was probably spectacular. I didn’t know. I never made it to the party.

Maybe the guy who drunkenly cut them off was celebrating my birthday, too. He could have been on his way to the venue to liven up the party that much more, or maybe not. I’ll never be able to ask him his side of the story because he was dead, right along with my parents. I spent weeks in my room bawling, trying to figure out the whys of that accident. After all, it was my fault that they were even in that car. If it weren’t for my stupid birthday they’d still be here.

After that, I’d wished that I had been in that car with them. Then we could have died a tragic death together as a family, and I wouldn’t be alone. They didn’t have any close relatives, so I was left to figure everything out solo. I did have friends, though, and Ms. Sandy. She always seemed to be around, and as much as I wanted to push her away and be mean and cruel, I didn’t have the heart to. She cared about me and vowed to always be there for me.

To be honest, if I had been in that car I’d probably still be alive just so that I would have to mourn them. Nothing that I ever did got me injured. Nothing!

When I was ten, I was riding my bike and got hit by a car. Not even a scratch! Measles, mumps, chicken pox, common cold? Never had those either. When I fell from the pyramid during cheerleading practice? Nothing hurt but my ego.

“Justice, are you going to stay in the mirror all day or are we leaving soon?” Amber asked.

“Bitch!” I yelled.

“Hurry up! You’re not getting any younger. You need to celebrate turning twenty-three now before you shrivel up tomorrow for being a day older!”

I knew somehow that drunken comment made complete sense to her. “I’m coming!”

I added more red to my lips and puckered them at the mirror. It complimented my honey caramel skin perfectly. My reddish-brown hair was bright and full around my face in deep waves. I loved my hair and this dress … I twirled in the mirror, watching as the black dress clung to every curve of my body. I knew I was going to get laid. I just had to.

Tomorrow, I would be hormonal. I always was during this time of the month. Ms. Sandy told me that it was because of the stages of the moon. I’d argued her theory, but she’d been right all these years. We’d tracked my changes, and they did appear to be connected to the moon’s cycle. Tomorrow was a total eclipse, and if history was correct, I expected it to be worse than it had been thus far.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to spend this one drugged and in a funk. The meds always left me grumpy and achy, plus I always felt severely alone. Ms. Sandy found stronger meds for me the last time because I’d been out of control. I believed that all I needed was somebody to finally tango with. This twenty-three-year-old virgin stuff was for the birds, and they could fly away with it. Trust me. I’d tried to have sex, but I could never find the right guy. They never smelled right, and scent was a huge turn on for me. I’d smelled perfection once, and I think it ruined me.

I slid my feet into my three-inch red pumps, and I was ready to destroy the night. I walked over to Amber who was snorting a line of coke. She held it out to me, and I shook my head. That stuff never did much for me, plus I didn’t want to turn out like my egg donor. The most it ever gave me was a headache, and I didn’t want anything messing up my plans for tonight.

“Come on! It’s your birthday!” Amber shouted above the raging music playing in the background.

Two of the other girls I didn’t know stood up and did a line, too, before grabbing their purses and heading out the door. I walked past Amber, and she grabbed me playfully.

“It makes the sex feel so much fucking better. Do it!”

Sex … Everything south started to throb lightly. That’s exactly what I needed. Amber knew that I was looking to get laid, and she’d said the magic words to get me to listen to what she was selling. The horrible idea was starting to sound good after all. It was one night. How bad could it really be? If it didn’t do anything to me, no harm no foul, right?

I leaned forward and snorted a double line. Amber cheered around me, and I stood up, feeling nothing at first. Then the throb between my legs increased. My senses seemed elevated to a level that almost blinded me. I took a moment to steady myself before I got my bearings and headed out to get some fresh air. Amber followed me out of the apartment, and she got into the car with her other friends. They were loudly cheering, and the music was blasting through the windows. I knew they were probably going to have a crap ton of fun, but I didn’t care.

After the death of my parents, I never drove with anyone. I didn’t trust it. I wanted to be in control of the car, and if someone was bold enough to hit me, they’d regret it. I climbed into my dad’s sports car. It was the only thing that hadn’t been taken from me when they passed except a fund they’d started for me. Enough of the sob stories, though. I was headed to find some lucky bastard to spend the night with.

***

The music was loud, and the smoke was everywhere. Drinks were flowing, and I needed a shot of tequila pronto. I rushed to the bar, cutting the line, and got the bartenders attention by exposing a little cleavage.

“Double shot of your best tequila, chilled,” I shouted.

“They’ll kill me. You know that, right?” The bartender motioned to the line that snaked to the other end of the bar. I slipped a fifty-dollar bill behind his ear.

“Keep the change.” Ignoring his question, I patted his shoulder and turned to look out at the dance floor.

The nearby women rolled their eyes at me while the men stared with lust written all over their faces. None of them caught my attention the way that I needed them to. They weren’t “the one”. Even the guy in the tailored suit with a beard wasn’t the right amount of yummy. He looked good, but not good enough.

“Here you go, kitten,” the bartender said. He was cute. But not my cup of tea.

---