Page 3 of Justice For Me

“We got a problem, boss,” he heard Solomon say. “The kid ain’t here.”

Marcus kept the license clutched in his hand as he walked toward the closet. “What do you mean ‘he isn’t here’? Where the hell else would he be?”

Marcus glanced around the closet, noticing the cell phone lying on the floor. It was probably still online with the local 911 operator where he had called for help…and they had alerted him that another one was hidden in the house. In the five years he had been visiting this place, they had never taken anyone onto the third fucking floor. He was still furious he had almost allowed a detail that important to slip past him. Sure, they would have eventually found the boy when they came up to destroy the evidence, but he didn’t like mistakes. In his world, they were too costly.

“He’s gone through the ceiling, Solomon,” he said angrily. “Bring him to me. I want him alive.”

“You sure, boss? Your dad said not to leave anybody alive and burn the fucking place to the ground.”

Marcus thought he might pull out his own gun and blow Solomon’s head off. He wanted to, fucking badly, he wanted to. Solomon was too deep in his father’s pockets and an asshole. He would have to go before too long. All the men needed to be completely loyal to him and only him. Solomon was clearly on the fence. “I’ll take responsibility with my father, Solomon. Just bring me the boy and be quick about it.”

Solomon started speaking into his head set to the other men and then walked out so he could get to the ladder leading into the attic. When he was alone, Marcus studied the picture on the license more closely as he bent over to pick up the cell phone. He couldn’t wait to touch his new plaything.

“Thanks for calling and letting me know we had another one in the house, Margaret. I’ll make certain there is a little extra something for you with this paycheck, doll.” The boy’s blue eyes danced back at him from the picture.

“You are a fucking dead man if you lay a hand on my son,” a deep voice said from the other side of the phone line and Marcus froze in place. It wasn’t as if he was afraid of some kid’s daddy, but this did mean that they would need to move a bit faster and there would still be a few lose ends that would need to be tied up before this mission could be marked as complete. For instance, now he would have to kill his new plaything’s daddy and mommy.

“Oooh, I’m terrified,” he answered arrogantly. “Perhaps you shouldn’t make empty threats,daddy. I will touch your son and there won’t be a damned thing you can do about it. Your fucking son shouldn’t have been at a whorehouse and now he’s going to have to pay the price for being a very naughty little boy.”

While he taunted the boy’s father, he texted the address on Justice’s license to one of his men waiting outside and gave them the green light to go to the house and make sure nobody was alive when they left. “I don’t think you know with whom you are dealing with, old man.”

Marcus was smiling as he considered the helplessness the father must be feeling right now, knowing his son was about to be taken from him. He heard gunfire from somewhere outside the Victorian and grew furious when he thought his men had disobeyed him and were killing Justice before he could play with him. Before he could even consider what he needed to do next, the man’s voice on the phone stopped him dead in his tracks.

“No, I don’t think you know with whom you are dealing with, you murdering bastard. This is FBI Director Christopher Conners. Why don’t you step outside and meet some of my men? They are waiting on you and dying to make your acquaintance.”

For the first time in his life, Marcus O’Hara tasted fear. He stood there, panting like a fucking bitch in heat for several long seconds before he managed to pull his head out of his ass and do what needed to be done. This might be the first battle he’s ever lost but it didn’t mean it had to be the war. Carefully, he removed the small explosive device from the bag he had brought up with him, placed it against the recording machinery that was evidence to the debauchery he had been a part of prior to today…and to the killings that just took place. With that evidence completely destroyed, he would only have to worry about eliminating Justice Conners, who had probably watched as he had gunned down the remaining fuckers that had tried to blackmail him. His father was one of the most powerful men in Ireland and hunting down one pathetic boy, even if he was an FBI Director’s fucking bastard kid, wouldn’t be too hard for him. He was fucking furious that he would ever have to spend one hour in an American prison but confident that he wouldn’t be there long. He clicked the timer on the explosives and casually sauntered out of the room.

There was an arrogant smile on his face when he walked out the front door to face whatever they had planned for him. His smile waivered just a fraction when he saw his men cuffed and lying face down on the grass but then returned full blown when his gaze fell upon Justice Conners, even more beautiful in person than he was in the license photo. The boy’s beauty was bewitching. His smile grew even larger when an explosion rocked the third floor of the Victorian, sending all evidence to hell in a black cloud of smoke.

Chapter 2

Malachi sat across from the man he loved like a brother and fought the urge to get up, walk around the table, and punch him in right in his beautiful face. Instead, he quietly sat there, glaring at Dante and then glaring at FBI Director Christopher Conners. Unfortunately, his glares didn’t seem to be sending them the proper message. Neither of them had even hinted toward the fact that they might back down from anideathat had been put on the table fordiscussion. Discussion, his ass! He was about to take it right up the ass was more like what was really happening!

“This would mean a hell of a lot to me, Dante. I love the kid more than life itself and I need to know that he’s safe.” Those last words sounded like they nearly killed the director to say. Malachi could fucking care less about poor Director Conners and his unsafe son. He loved Dante Jericho and Megan Morganton, unconditionally loved both of them…would gladly lay down his life for either of them. He damned near loved Susannah, Jasper, Gretchen, Beatrice, and Dustin. Hell, he even loved Travis, Dante’s unsubmissive submissive lover. But that was it, folks. He didn’t love anybody else nor was he in the mood to even try to make any more friends. The love list from above, those were his friends, too. He didn’t need anymore. If for some reason one of them couldn’t fulfill their obligations, maybe he would consider adding another to his list. Until then…fuck ‘em all.

“I’m certain it would mean a great deal to you, Christopher. After everything you’ve done for me and mine, helping to ensure Victor and Nicholas are safely tucked away in maximum security without any hopes of ever walking out of prison alive, means a great deal to me, but I can’t force Malachi to do something he doesn’t want to do.” Dante’s crystal blue eyes flickered toward Malachi and Malachi seriously felt himself shrink two inches in height, probably inches off his dick, too. Naturally Dante had to remind him of what Director Conners had done behind the scenes regarding Victor and Nicholas.

“It’s not going to happen,” Malachi growled. There was no fucking way he was leaving Megan to babysit some horny kid that got caught with his fucking pants down.

“I understand,” the director said out loud, but his eyes spoke volumes about how he really felt about Malachi’s decision to not help protect his son. “I appreciate your time. I won’t bother you any longer.” He stood up and started shuffling his folders around. A picture of Justice tumbled out and landed on the table almost right in front of Malachi. The kid wasn’t really a kid. He was a twenty-one year old young man that was almost as pretty as Jasper but Malachi knew immediately he would detest the spoiled brat. Jasper had innocence, Justice had arrogance. His alpha did not mix well with arrogance at all.

It was more than that, though. He didn’t want to leave Megan. They had only had a little less than a year together and their relationship was still in the development stages. He didn’t want to do anything that would rock that boat. Hell, that boat was already rocking itself without any outside interferences. Adding another problem to the mix certainly wouldn’t help. Megan was his life, his soul mate and true love. If he didn’t have her, life wouldn’t be worth living anymore. Fucking up and losing her was not an option for him.

Shit, there it was again, a damned flicker of disappointment in Dante’s eyes. His friend was hitting below the fucking belt today.

“How long?” He spat out in disgust. “How fucking long would I have to babysit the bastard?”

Director Conners frowned at Malachi but then quickly reined it in. Shit, but the man must really be desperate.

“The trial is in one month. Once he testifies, Marcus shouldn’t be able to touch him. There’s one other possible witness. A young man survived the shooting, but it is still questionable on whether he will live or not. He suffered a head injury and at this point the doctors aren’t sure he will even remember anything about what happened. We aren’t relying on his testimony to help us put Marcus away.

“Why do you feel like you need to do this? Do you have another fucking leak in your department, Director?” Malachi asked in an unfriendly growl. At least he could make the bastard suffer. He was good at making people suffer, it was something he enjoyed.

“No, I don’t believe there is another leak in my department,” he answered with a frown. “My son is…well, he’s…” He paused, searching for the right words. “He gets into some trouble now and again. I just need to know that he is safe and I do know there is a huge possibility that Marcus’ father will try to remove any possible witnesses to his son’s crimes. No one knows about the other man, but the media managed to learn about Justice. I want him with somebody I feel is capable of protecting himifthe need arises. He’s my son and I’m not willing to take any chances with his safety. None.”

Malachi fucking hated the look of hope in the Director’s eyes and the look of pride etched all over Dante’s face. Hell, he hated just about everything right this fucking minute. “I need to talk to you alone, Dante.” He turned to the director. “Get out.”

“Of course.” The man left without another word, leaving the picture of the pretty kid lying innocently on the table, mocking Malachi’s obvious weakness of suddenly giving a shit about what others thought about him. He’d been warned that falling in love would turn you into a pussy, but he’d damned well hoped it wouldn’t happen to him. Guess he’d been fucking wrong.

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