Page 69 of Home for Justice
Their customers had been gracious enough about the unexpected closure, but every apology Justice offered felt heavier on her shoulders. And though she kept thanking her lucky stars that the smoke had not damaged anything, the water had been mopped, new chairs and reception desk had been ordered, and the local glass company had already come out to measure for replacements, the sight of the plywood still nailed across the office window was a slap in the face every time she looked up. A brutal reminder of the intrusion they’d suffered.
Carla kept the reception area running with her usual cheerful smile, chatting easily with customers and smoothing over any rough edges as she sat on a folding chair with a small folding table in front of her. Justice was grateful because her emotions were balanced on a razor’s edge. One wrong look, or one too-loud complaint, and she was liable to snap like a frayed belt on an overworked engine.
Her cell buzzed against the desk, and she nearly jumped. When she saw the caller ID, her brows lifted in surprise. She swiped to answer. “John?”
“Justice, hey,” her cousin said, his voice low, tentative. “I know you’re at work. Is this a bad time?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling the tension throbbing behind her eyes. It was a bad time. Hell, it was a bad day.A few bad days.But John rarely called, and the last thing she wanted was to brush him off.
“I’m a little busy,” she admitted, softening her voice, “but I have time for you. What’s going on?”
A sigh came through the line, heavy enough that she could picture him running a hand over his face.
“I hate to ask, but… can you tell me what’s happening? I got a call from home.” Another pause. “You know how Mom is.”
Justice leaned back in her chair, staring up at the ceiling for patience. Oh yes. She knew.
Debbie’s talent for drama could fill an entire theater.
“Yeah, I know,” she said carefully, biting down on a dozen snarky comments. “But what exactly are you talking about?”
“I got a call from Mom this morning,” he said, his voice tightening. “She’s flipping out. Said you wouldn’t let them see Uncle Jack when he had a heart attack. I felt like an idiot. I didn’t even know your dad had a heart attack.”
Justice’s stomach twisted. She hated that John had to hear about it secondhand. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Honestly, it’s been a couple of chaotic weeks. My mind was focused on Dad, the hospital, and getting him through surgery. I didn’t think about calling anyone outside of our little circle.”
“How’s he doing?”
She smiled softly, her heart warming. “He’s doing great. The surgery went well, he stayed in the hospital for about a week, and now he’s home, getting stronger every day.”
“Good. I’m really glad,” John said, and the relief in his voice soothed a little of the guilt clawing at her.
Justice leaned forward, bracing her elbow on the desk. “Was that the only thing Debbie was worked up about?”
The hesitation on the other end was answer enough. Justice’s shoulders sagged.
“It was hard to discern what she was raving about,” John admitted. “Mom and Dad are mad because, apparently, Uncle Jack isn’t giving them what they think they’re owed. I didn’t really know what they were talking about… and honestly, I didn’t want to get into it with them. Christ, Mom calls, and all she can do is bitch about everything. She never even asks me how I’m doing.”
Justice’s chest tightened with sympathy. John carried his own scars from growing up under Debbie and Jordy’s roof. Not physical scars, but his desire to get out of the area the instant he graduated. He was about six years older than her, and they’d never been close as kids. They still weren’t close, talking only a few times a year.
“John,” she said gently, “I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into this mess. I’ll tell you what I know, but none of it’s going to surprise you.”
She paused, collecting her thoughts. “You remember your dad asked Grandpa for his inheritance early, right? Took it years ago?”
“Yeah,” John said immediately. “Dad got his money, spent it how he wanted. So, after Grandpa died, everything else was supposed to be left to Uncle Jack. Since you lived there, you inherited the house, and I received some money based on the house's value. That was the deal.”
Justice nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Exactly. But now… your parents are acting like that deal never happened. They burned through their money, and now they’re clawing fora share of our business. They’re trying to rewrite history because they’re desperate.”
“And they think they can just demand it?” John muttered, disgust thick in his tone.
“Pretty much.” Justice’s mouth twisted. “But they’ve got no leg to stand on. Grandpa’s will, the early payout, all the paperwork—it’s locked down airtight. If they try to sue, they’ll lose. But that’s not stopping them from being a pain in the a–” She halted… they were still his parents.
“Go ahead and finish the statement—they’re a pain in the ass!” John's voice climbed in frustration. “You have got to be kidding me!”
“I wish I were.” Justice let out a heavy breath, the familiar swirl of anger and exhaustion tightening inside her. “And it goes even deeper than that. A developer is sniffing around, trying to buy our property. Dad and I said no. Hell no. So now your mom and dad are pushing Dad, trying to get him to sell, thinking they’ll somehow get a cut of the payout.”
“But… but that makes no sense,” John stammered. “Your land and house were never part of Grandpa’s inheritance. They don’t have any claim to that! None!”
“You know it. I know it. The lawyer knows it. Hell, probably every rational person on earth knows it except Uncle Jordy and Aunt Debbie. They’ve run through their money, and now they’re grasping at straws. So I banned them from talking to Dad. They’re not allowed near the house anymore.”
