Page 40 of Breeding Justice

Bash didn’t respond, but his shoulders remained tight, his gaze fixed on Justice like she might disappear if he blinked.

The road curved sharply ahead, and I eased the car around the bend, the tires skidding slightly on loose gravel. The faint outline of a gas station appeared on the horizon, its single fluorescent light flickering weakly.

“We can’t stop,” Bash said quickly, reading my thoughts.

“We need fuel,” I replied, my tone firm. “And if there’s a chance they have a payphone, I’m taking it. We can’t keep driving blind.”

Bash clenched his fists but didn’t argue. Justice murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, her voice weak but alive. That was enough to keep me moving.

As we pulled into the station, I scanned the area for any signs of trouble. The place was deserted, its small convenience store dark except for the glow of a vending machine near the window. A rusted pickup truck sat abandoned near the side of the building, its tires flat and its hood propped open like a mouth frozen mid-scream.

“Stay with her,” I said to Bash, my voice low. “I’ll pump the gas and see if I can find a phone.”

Bash nodded, his hand instinctively resting on the pistol tucked into his jacket. I stepped out of the car, the cool night air biting at my skin. The gas pump was ancient, its paint chipped and peeling, but it hummed to life as I fed it a few crumpled bills.

While the tank filled, I made my way to the convenience store. The door creaked as I pushed it open, and the smell of mildew hit me like a wall. Dust coated the shelves, and most of the items looked like they’d been sitting there for decades. But in the corner, tucked behind a rack of expired snacks, I spotted a payphone.

I fished a coin from my pocket and dialed Zane’s number, my heart pounding with every ring. On the fourth ring, someone picked up.

“Hello?” The voice was low, cautious. It was Zane.

“Zane, it’s me,” I said quickly. “We’re out.”

“You’re out? Are you okay? Are you hurt? Is Justice?”

I held back a smile. “Slow down, doc,” I said. “Justice is…wounded. She needs attention, but she’ll live. Are you okay? Are you with Hassan? Is SJ safe?”

There was a pause, long enough to make my chest tighten. “We’re okay,” Zane said finally. “But Vito’s men are everywhere.We headed to New York City to meet Dante Moretti. He was going to broker peace with Vito. It didn’t go well, so now we’re going back to Miami. We were planning on rescuing you. Nothing happened, by the way. We’re all okay. I’m recovering, before you ask.”

Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. “We’re heading to Naples. Justice is hurt. We need a doctor, and we need to regroup.”

“What happened?” Zane asked, his voice sharp with concern.

“Well, we got out, but not without a fight. They’re coming for all of us, Zane. If they get SJ...”

“They won’t get SJ.”

“I’ll explain everything when we get there,” I said. “Just keep him safe, Zane. We’re trusting you.

“You know I will,” Zane replied, his tone resolute. “Get here in one piece. Skylar? I love you.”

“I love you,” I said.

“Do you need first aid instructions for Justice?”

“No, I got it,” I said.

I hung up and hurried back to the car, my mind racing. Bash rolled down the window as I approached, his expression hard.

“They’re heading to Naples,” I said, sliding into the driver’s seat. “Hassan’s got SJ, and Zane’s with them. We’re about an hour behind.”

Bash let out a breath, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Then we push through. No stops.”

I nodded and slammed the car into drive, the old sedan lurching forward as we pulled back onto the empty road. The gas station faded into the darkness behind us, and the miles stretched ahead like a challenge.

Justice stirred again, her eyes fluttering open. “Skylar?” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” I said, glancing back at her in the rearview mirror. “We’re almost there. Just hold on.”

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