Page 31 of Justice for Radar

“K,” she said and sighed. “What about…?”

“Uncle Atlas and Hope are on it, that’s all you get,” I said. “No more questions.”

She nodded and seemed relieved that Atlas was involved. She stopped in the mouth of the hallway and looked back and asked, “Hope?”

“Git!” I said with a wink, and she rolled her eyes and got.

I sighed and sucked down her peace offering of coffee like it was going out of style.

10

Justice…

“Hey.” I stirred and sucked in a sharp breath, Radar’s thumb gently stroking my cheek. I stretched and shuddered as I did, yawning and struggling to wake up.

“Hey,” I murmured, and he chuckled.

“Sleep all day, you won’t sleep tonight,” he chided gently, and I smiled.

“I’m not exactly on any type of set schedule,” I said. “Whether I get a cover done at night or during the day, it makes no difference.”

“Touché,” he said. “More of it’s gorgeous out there, not too hot, perfect for a ride and I promised you one. A real one, this time.”

“To the marina and back isn’t a real ride?” I asked.

He chuckled and shook his head. “Not even close,” he said. “Take a shower, put on some jeans, good shoes, I’ll have some coffee ready for you when you come out. How do you take it?” he asked.

“Two creams, two sugars,” I murmured.

“You got it, coming right up,” he said.

I got up, groaning and went through my carry-on, finding the things he asked for. I was just about to go to the guest bath when he appeared in the hall with a steaming mug of coffee and said, use mine.

I nodded. I mean, I had just cleaned it to within an inch of its life. I knew exactly how clean it was, etc.

I fetched my travel toiletry bag out of my little suitcase and took it into the bathroom with me, closing the door and facing the mirror.

I guess I should be grateful I looked nothing like the sleep-deprived monster I felt. Just a plain, boring, ordinary girl staring back at me from the mirror. I didn’t know what Radar saw in me to be so nice. I certainly didn’t feel like I deserved it. Still, I wouldn’t turn it down. My wounded soul couldn’t take much more rejection and heartache and all too soon I would be leaving anyway.

His life was well established here, and I was in Texas. Still in that big and lonely house that my husband and I had shared with the big and ugly mortgage to match, but I was trapped. I mean, I could probably sell it but I didn’t know where I would go or if I would have enough and it was daunting, you know?

I started the shower and lifted my satin tank over my head and sighed. My torso was pale. I mean, it never saw the sun… that was for a reason. The latticework of puncture wounds along one side and around to the back were ugly and raised. I’d lost a kidney on one side, and I prayed my other would hold out for the rest of my life.

That had been the worst pain imaginable, and I cringed looking at myself. Billy had been so gentle and understanding when it had come to my scars. Letting me keep a shirt on the first few times we’d had sex, and eventually just sort of kindly ignoring them. He didn’t look, or even acknowledge them and that had made me feel somehow better.

I mean, I know I’d told Radar I’d been stabbed but seeing it was something entirely different and I didn’t know if I honestly had – Jesus. It’s not like he would want me anyway.

“Just two more days, Jussy,” I murmured quietly into the shower spray as I stepped in. The rest of today, tomorrow, and then however long it took for me to be dropped off at the airport on Monday.

I showered, finished my coffee in gulps between drying off and pulling on each article of clothing, before finally pulling my hair into a high ponytail.

I looked at myself in the mirror and made a face. I had dark circles under my eyes but if we were going out? Sunglasses would take care of that. I felt tired, but I couldn’t say for sure if it was the type of tired that a good, less fitful night of sleep would cure or not.

I went out into the bedroom with the dregs of my coffee in my hand and Radar was gone. I sighed, stopped, and pulled on the low-top Chelsea boots rolling up the ankles of my skinny jeans above them in the latest fashion. I sighed and brushed a hand down the front of my loose, flowy, white tank top and went through my pouch of necklaces and earrings, choosing a long bronze chain with a chunky pendant of a small pocket watch and glass beads.

I was as put together as I could manage, casual, and with a mind toward riding today, I pulled on my cropped jean jacket again and lifted my purse over my head.

I found Radar in his den at his computer. He looked up, and I froze in the doorway, looking behind me at first, then down at what I was wearing.

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