Page 51 of Home for Justice
“Jack,” Tyler began respectfully, sincerity clear in his voice, “my feelings for Justice are honorable. They’re new, and we’re still getting to know each other and figuring things out. But anything deeper than that would be for her ears first, out of respect. What I can assure you, though, is that I’m definitely not playing games. I’m genuinely interested in her and would very much like the opportunity to get to know her better.”
For a tense, silent moment, Tyler’s pulse quickened. He wondered how Jack would interpret his answer—if he’d be offended, think Tyler was avoiding commitment, or perhaps not good enough for his cherished daughter.
Unexpectedly, Jack erupted into hearty laughter, slapping his thigh loudly. “Good! Tyler, I don’t mind admitting I like you. You’re straightforward. No bullshit, no blowing smoke up my ass. And I believe you when you say you’re serious about Justice. I was prepared to warn you to treat her right, but hell, I can see clear as day that’s already your intention.”
Tyler exhaled slowly, feeling relief wash over him as they pulled into the parking lot. The conversation had ended on a far better note than he’d dared hope. Smiling, he got out and accompanied Jack into the American Legion building, goodwill spreading through him as he watched other legionnaires greet Jack warmly, clapping him on the back and offering cheerful words of continued good health.
Jack waved off their concerns casually, insisting he felt stronger each day. He proudly gestured toward Tyler, openly declaring that between his daughter and their new neighbor, he had all the support he needed. Tyler felt an unexpected swell of pride at Jack’s words, realizing just how much Jack’s approval would bolster his place in this close-knit community.
As Jack settled comfortably among his friends, Tyler made his way toward Cory and a few other Keepers, feeling a genuine sense of belonging wash over him. Deep in his heart, he sensedGramps looking down on him with a smile. For the first time in a very long time, Tyler truly felt at home.
The bathtub was filled with hot water, and the scent of the bath oil filled the room. Justice had used a face mask, then washed and moisturized her face before sinking down into the water that was warming every inch. Her eyes fluttered closed, and with each soft breath, she consciously released the anxiety that had relentlessly crowded her mind since the terrifying day she’d found her father collapsed on the floor, his heart fighting for survival.
She’d managed to balance her home life, the garage, and the employees looking to her for direction, while also caring for her dad. Despite her exhaustion, she never forgot that countless women faced even heavier burdens daily. That realization humbled her deeply. She admired their strength, their ability to hold together their worlds with such grace, and aspired to that kind of quiet resilience.
Relaxation slowly opened space in her mind, and thoughts of her family in better times gradually eclipsed her earlier worries. Justice yearned deeply for the love, trust, and endless laughter that her parents shared. She dreamed of children, of growing old alongside a partner whose presence would fill each day with warmth and whose passion would never fade, no matter how many years passed.
She wasn’t impulsive in love, nor one to chase fleeting connections. Yet she’d been open and willing to risk her heart. Over time, she learned quickly how to sense a man’s potential. She sometimes wondered if she was being overly particular, butshe silenced that doubt swiftly. Choosing a partner for life wasn’t trivial. It deserved care and thoughtfulness.
Her dating history wasn’t lengthy, but it had been revealing. She’d met men who recoiled at her being a mechanic, uneasy with the oil stains on her hands and her expertise beneath a car hood. Others saw her as a novelty, intrigued primarily by the prospect of discounted car repairs. And then some admired her looks but seemed startled to discover she also possessed intelligence and ambition.“You have a college degree in business, and you still work on cars?”Yeah, she’d heard that more than once.
She’d come close once or twice, believing a deep bond could grow. One man she’d met in college had sparked genuine feelings. But the constant separation wore them both thin, gently revealing that friendship suited them best.
Now, inevitably, her thoughts drifted to Tyler. Their acquaintance was new, yet undeniably profound. That spontaneous hug in the hospital lobby… the comfort she offered was mirrored perfectly by his embrace and had ignited something she hadn’t expected. Discovering he lived next door felt like fate had nudged them closer.
Her hands glided through the warm water, softly caressing her body. Soon, her fingers drifted instinctively to her breasts as the other hand slid lower. Heat flushed her cheeks as images of Tyler filled her mind, memories of their shared kisses sparking a deeper desire. She yearned to feel his touch beyond the feel of his lips on hers. And based on the hunger in his kisses, she knew the feeling was mutual.
A sudden shrill ringing shattered her sensual reverie. Startled, Justice jerked violently, water sloshing over the tub’s rim as she nearly slipped beneath the surface.
“Dammit,” she muttered, her frustration sharp as she grabbed the towel and reached for her phone.
Her heart skipped when she saw the notification flashing urgently—a security alert at McClay Mechanics. Adrenaline surged through her veins. She dropped the phone, knowing the security system would automatically notify the sheriff’s department.
Quickly drying herself, Justice tugged on her panties, abandoning the comforting pajamas she’d planned to wear. Instead, she yanked on jeans, a bra, and a sweatshirt in frantic haste. Socks and boots were shoved onto her feet before she threw on her jacket. She grabbed her purse and keys and dashed toward her vehicle.
Her phone rang again just as she slid into the driver’s seat. Anxiety tightened her chest as she checked the screen. Relief mingled with apprehension as she saw the sheriff’s department number rather than her father’s.
Justice took a deep breath as she answered the call. “This is Justice McClay.”
“Ms. McClay, this is Deputy Joe Rollins from the sheriff’s department.”
“Is this about the alarm at McClay’s Mechanics? I received an alert just now.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Deputy Rollins confirmed. “My partner and I are at your shop. Two of your front plate-glass windows have been shattered, and it appears someone threw a Molotov cocktail inside. The fire department is here now. The fire is still active but is being brought under control. It’s been contained in the reception area, but there’s already substantial smoke and water damage.”
“I’m on my way!” she snapped sharply, her voice tight with suppressed fury. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She disconnected the call, heart hammering painfully against her ribs. Ten minutes was ambitious, but tonight, speed limits meant little compared to the urgency burning through her veins. Herthoughts churned chaotically, anger mingling with the deep fear of what she might find.
When she arrived, the scene was bathed in surreal flashes of red and blue lights. Her headlights illuminated deputies' cars parked hastily, the beams glinting off shards of broken glass scattered across the pavement. Thick, acrid smoke curled into the night sky, and the sharp scent of something scorched filled the air. Bright streams from active fire hoses arced through the shattered windows, water slapping the smoldering remains inside.
Justice rushed forward, identifying herself quickly to one of the deputies, who escorted her to Deputy Rollins. He stood with a composed yet cautious expression, positioned just beyond the edge of the firefighting effort, where crews in turnout gear moved with purpose, shouting over the roar of water and hiss of steam.
“Goddammit,” she muttered under her breath, eyes locked on the blackened remains inside the reception area. The front counter was charred, papers and files nothing but ash. The upholstered chairs were now twisted skeletons, and the room glowed faintly with the sheen of lingering embers. Water streamed across the floor, swirling soot into dark, murky puddles.
“Ms. McClay?” Deputy Rollins prompted gently, drawing her back from the turmoil of her thoughts.
“Sorry,” she said, forcing herself to speak evenly despite the fury roiling inside her chest. “How extensive is the damage? Is the main garage safe?”
A firefighter approached, having been alerted to her arrival. “Are you the owner?”
