Page 64 of Home for Justice
Justice knew her phone sat nearby, volume on in case her dad needed her. Both houses were secured. Everything she had worried about drifted away, fading into the darkness outside.
Wrapped in Tyler’s arms, she closed her eyes, and for the first time in a very long time, she let herself simply be safe, wanted, and exactly where she was meant to be. And as sleep pulled her under, the last thing she felt was the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. It was a silent promise that this was only the beginning.
28
Tyler blinked awake, a slow, contented smile curving his lips as he lay still, savoring the moment. Justice’s warm body was curled against him, her back nestled perfectly into his front, their legs tangled beneath the rumpled sheets.
They had fallen asleep facing each other, but sometime in the night, she had shifted, and he had instinctively molded himself around her. It had been years since he’d spent a full night with someone, the occasional meaningless hookup never offering the comfort or connection he felt now. Those nights were about release, not intimacy. Not trust.
But Justice... she was anything but casual. She was rapidly becoming everything.
Was it happening too fast? He huffed a quiet snort against her hair. Instinct had never failed him… not on missions, not behind the scope of a sniper rifle, and not when life and death balanced on a single breath. His gut was telling him now that this was real. This was right.
The depth of what was building between them wasn’t measured in time but in truth. In the undeniable, soul-deep pull he felt every time he touched her, heard her laughter, and watched her fight for the people she loved.
When she’d whispered last night that she’d felt fireworks, his chest had nearly burst with pride, but also with a profound, aching recognition. He’d felt them, too. And nothing from his past even came close.
Shifting slightly, his eyes drifted to the mirror perched atop the old wooden dresser across the room. The antique piece was sturdy but outdated. Another item he had planned to replace when he continued to fix up the house.
But a flicker in the mirror cut through his contented haze. A flash of movement. His senses sharpened instantly. That sliver of light reflection was not something he’d seen on any night before.
Carefully, he slid his arm from beneath Justice, easing away from her sleeping form. She murmured but didn’t wake. Keeping one eye on the mirror, he padded to the window, heart thudding low and heavy in his chest. The curtains were half drawn, and through the narrow gap, a strange glow was seen in the backyard. He pulled the curtain aside.
Flames clawed hungrily at the night sky as an orange halo engulfed the small barn. “Fuck!”
Justice jolted upright, shoving her hair from her face. “What? What is it?”
“The barn. It’s on fire!” he barked, already yanking on his jeans and dragging a T-shirt over his head. “Call 911!” He jammed his feet into shoes before bolting from the room as she scrambled for her phone. Her voice was urgent and clear as she relayed the emergency to the dispatcher.
Taking the stairs two at a time, Tyler burst out the back door, the chill of the night air biting against his bare arms as he sprinted to the goat pen next to the small barn. Within a minute, he was herding the bleating goats into the backyard and then into a large, fenced-in dog pen that his grandfather still had, situated away from the house. The old wooden barnwas connected to a lean-to shed next to the house. If the fire department didn’t arrive soon, his old, wooden house would be the next to go up in flames.
He had no clue what to do about the chickens other than to run over and unlatch the door. At least they would be able to run in the yard, away from the fire.
He turned to grab the hose attached to the back of the house when he heard a noise and whipped around to see Justice flying through the back door. Her hair streamed behind her like a banner, and her clothes were as hastily thrown on as his had been. Her shirt was inside out, and she wore no bra, but she’d managed to get on her jeans and boots.
“Are they okay?” she cried, fear edging her voice as her gaze swept over the yard.
He raced back to her. “Got them in the dog run,” he said. “Chickens can get out.”
“It’s so close to the house!” she yelled.
Adrenaline flooded Tyler’s veins. He squeezed Justice’s shoulder before releasing her. “Stay here!” he ordered, then vaulted off the porch.
The fire raged brighter now, throwing wild, flickering shadows across the fields. Sparks spiraled into the air, carried by the breeze, creating a deadly threat to the dry grass and his house. In the orange glow, he started to untangle the garden hose from the back of the house.
Tyler didn’t hesitate as soon as it was loose. He grabbed the hose and yelled for Justice to turn on the spigot. He sprinted faster, his mind already racing through plans. The hose was too short to reach the barn, but he could try to soak the lean-to shed and the area near the house.
Even as the water sprayed out, he knew the danger was the sparks carried by the wind. Frantic squawking joined thebleating, mixed in with the cries of Justice who dragged another hose from the side of the house, her face pale with fear.
“I’m going to wet the grass near the house!” Tyler yelled, turning the hose to create a damp barrier between the barn fire and the dry lawn.
From the corner of his eye, he saw headlights bouncing down the road. A familiar truck skidded to a stop, and Jack climbed out, a grim set to his mouth. Justice ran to him immediately, worry etched in every line of her body.
“Dad, you shouldn’t be out here!” she cried, hovering as he steadied himself.
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Jack reassured her, even as he leaned slightly on his cane. “I’m not sitting by while my neighbor needs help.”
Tyler jogged over, his shirt damp from the hose spray. “Justice, take this one. I’m going to the well pump with a longer hose by the barn!” Tyler shouted.
