Page 79 of Home for Justice
“Mom said Uncle Jack was dying,” John blurted suddenly, desperation clear in his voice.
Justice jerked back, heart thundering painfully. “What?”
“She said this was the way to get what we needed. All I had to do was try to get you and this guy to leave. I needed a way to get you to sign over the property, sell to Anthony Milton,” John rambled frantically. “That old man who owned this land was dying, and your dad was having heart surgery. Mom told me we could have it all—that you wouldn’t want to stay here without your dad. I thought it would be easy. Anthony thought it would be easy. He loaned me money, Justice, on my word. And now some grandson shows up out of nowhere to claim the old man’s place, and Jack’s getting better. Everything’s going to hell!”
Justice had heard enough. Whatever twisted plans John had concocted or been coerced into fulfilling, she was finished being his captive audience. Steeling herself, she stepped closer, gripping the handle of the shovel tighter. “Show me those papers.”
Justice’s heart pounded as John stepped closer, the papers trembling in his hand. Adrenaline surged through her, and as soon as he was within striking distance, she swung the small shovel with all her might. It connected with his wrist, and John screamed, dropping to the ground.
Justice didn’t hesitate, spinning around and sprinting through the tall grass of the meadow toward her father’s house, nearly two acres away. The tall grass whipped at her legs as she ran, John’s enraged cries close behind her. Panic rose in her chest, nearly choking her.
She stumbled briefly but caught herself, pushing forward desperately. Nearing, she screamed, “Dad! Dad!”
As she reached the edge of the meadow, the flood lights came on and the back door of her house flew open, slamming against the frame with a sharp crack.
Jack stepped out onto the deck, his face twisted with fury, his rifle firmly gripped and aimed straight at John. “Stop right there, boy,” Jack shouted, his authoritative voice unwavering.
John skidded to a halt, his face twisted in pain and panic. “Dammit, Uncle Jack. No. You don’t understand! I have no choice!”
“What the hell is going on?” Jack demanded sharply.
“This!” John spat, holding up the crumpled legal papers. “Signing the land over to Anthony Milton. He promised me a million dollars. He’ll pay you… He’ll pay you good money!”
“Not happening,” Jack growled fiercely.
“You don’t understand,” John cried, voice cracking with desperation. “I borrowed money from Anthony Milton. If this doesn’t go through, I’ll go to jail. They’ll kill me. I thought the old man living out here was dying, and Mom said you weren’t going to make it. Justice would have to sell, and we’d be set for life!”
Justice watched as John’s emotional state unraveled further, his hand trembling, still gripping the lowered gun. “John,” she pleaded softly, stepping slightly closer. “This isn’t the way. This isn’t who you are.”
John shook violently, eyes filled with anguish, the gun dangling loosely by his side, his resolve clearly wavering.
36
Tyler parked his vehicle along the quiet roadside, concealed by a dense cluster of trees, and swiftly grabbed his long-range rifle. He caught sight of Justice racing through the tall grass, nearing her house with John in pursuit.
Heart pounding, he moved silently to a vantage point, assessing the situation through the scope. But the angle was off, and John wasn’t in a clear enough position for a safe shot. Fearing what her cousin might do when reaching her house, he switched out his rifle for his handgun with practiced efficiency. Slipping around the house, he came upon the tense standoff unfolding. Quiet determination fueled his approach as he tried to still the racing of his heart.
Emerging from the edge of the house, Tyler kept his gun steady as he walked purposely toward John and Justice, his expression grim, eyes narrowed with deadly precision. The only reason he hadn’t fired was that John’s gun was still dangling down in his hand.
John spun toward him, eyes widening in confusion and shock. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, voice tight with panic.
“Tyler Marconi,” Tyler replied coolly, voice carrying a lethal calm. “You were just on my property threatening the woman I love.” He stepped closer, each movement deliberate and filled with quiet menace. “I was an Army Ranger… a sniper… a marksman. Trust me, I’ll have a bullet through your heart before your finger can even twitch toward that trigger.”
John’s face drained of color, his eyes glazing with stunned disbelief. His grip loosened, and the gun fell from his trembling hand onto the grass. Jack lunged forward, quickly scooping up the weapon, his own gun never wavering from John.
From behind them, Todd and Cory approached rapidly, their expressions taut with urgency. Tyler gave them a brief nod of acknowledgment as flashing police lights illuminated the scene, casting stark shadows over the meadow. Officers moved swiftly to cuff and take John into custody.
Tyler closed the distance quickly, his heart hammering as Justice turned and launched herself into his arms. He caught her tightly, the warmth and relief of her embrace overwhelming him. He buried his face in her hair, holding her fiercely, silently vowing never to let her go.
Tyler held Justice close, murmuring quiet reassurances, as the tension slowly ebbed away with the passing of the immediate danger.
“Justice!” John called out as the deputy was ready to place him in the back of the cruiser.
Tyler didn’t want to let her loose, but she wiggled, and he set her feet on the ground. She turned and looked at her cousin.
John swallowed deeply and cast his gaze over the area before resting his eyes on her. “I’m… I’m sorry…”
Justice’s head jerked up and down as she sucked in a ragged breath. Tyler kept his arms around her, and as the deputy vehicle pulled out of her driveway, she turned, pressing her cheek over his heartbeat.
