Page 78 of Home for Justice
“Goddammit!” Jack’s response was almost identical to Tyler’s.
“Stay inside and stay safe. Police are on their way but going in quietly. I’m nearly there. I’ll be armed, too.”
Jack’s voice hardened, protective and fierce. “No one’s going to hurt my daughter.”
Tyler disconnected as he turned onto their road. He needed no distractions. Just focus—the same focus he’d used for years. Now if he could just convince his galloping heart.
35
Justice was afraid to blink. The gun in John’s hand wasn’t pointed directly at her, but its presence was menacing enough, especially as his hand shook so violently she feared he might accidentally pull the trigger.
Darkness pressed at the edges of her vision, and she realized with a sudden rush of dizziness that she’d forgotten to breathe. Forcing herself to inhale, the world swam back into clarity, but the nightmare remained painfully real. Her cousin John, standing under the harsh glow of security lights, was brandishing papers in one trembling hand and a gun in the other.
She fought the urge to run, instinct warring with the desperate hope that someone, anyone, might come to her aid if she could just keep him talking. Her grip tightened instinctively around the handle of the small garden shovel in her hand. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something that might offer protection.
Swallowing back fear, she forced calmness into her voice. “Wh… what exactly do you need me to sign?”
John glanced down at the papers, momentarily bewildered, as though he’d forgotten they existed. Then he lifted his eyesto her as though just remembering. “If you sign these, I’ll get a million dollars.”
Her lips parted silently, a stunned disbelief stealing her voice. Finally, she managed to croak, “A million dollars? For… I don’t understand. Who would pay you that money for me to sign?”
“Anthony Milton.”
Justice recoiled slightly, her jaw slackening. “Anthony Milton? The man who wants to tear apart our land for his condos? How do you know him?”
John’s brows knit together, confusion clouding his features again before he jerked his head up and down. “You don’t need this place,” he insisted, sweeping the gun through the air as if he’d forgotten it was still in his hand. “Milton will pay you plenty. You and Jack can keep the business and buy any house you want. You don’t need this much land anyway.”
“John, we’re not selling.” She was still afraid, but the instinctive need to protect what she loved sharpened every word. “This isn’t about money. This is about family. It’s our home.”
His expression twisted bitterly. “Typical. Always selfish, Justice. Always thinking only about yourself.”
Fury sparked inside her, breaking through the fear. “Selfish? Dad bought this land thirty years ago. This is where I grew up, where our family built our life. Just because some greedy developer wants it doesn’t mean we should give it up. You wouldn’t like it if I came to Chicago and demanded you sell your house so I could get the money!”
The silence that followed hung between them, thick and heavy, punctuated only by their ragged breathing and the frantic pounding of Justice’s heart.
“My house?” A scoff barked from his chest. “I got nothing. And you? Mama always said you were selfish, a spoiled brat,” John muttered, bitterness dripping from each word.
Justice felt a wave of exasperation wash over her. “How exactly does she figure that?”
“Because you and Jack got everything from our grandparents! Everything!”
“Your parents got their inheritance long ago, before Grandpa even died,” Justice retorted, her voice sharp with indignation. “And you got the same as I did… an equal amount of our grandparents’ house value.”
“I know that,” John snapped, eyes blazing. “But guess what, Justice? I got nothing from my own useless parents. They went through theirs and then have hounded me ever since!”
“That’s not my fault! That’s not Dad’s fault!”
“Still… you and Uncle Jack walked away with the business that keeps bringing in money. You got what keeps going!”
Frustration, mingled with a sense of hurt, filled every cell in her body as Justice shook her head. “You have no idea the sacrifices Grandpa made to give your father his share early. He liquidated assets and took out loans against the business to ensure that your father received half. My parents struggled for years afterward, fighting to keep the garage running before they eventually expanded. Nothing was handed to me. I work there every day. I earned my place.”
“You sold the home in town,” John sneered contemptuously. “You got money from that.”
She watched as he lowered the gun, and she wondered if he had forgotten he even had it. Keeping her voice calm, she responded, “Yes, and you got the value of the home as your inheritance. This is ludicrous! I’m not going to stand here and justify Grandpa’s decisions. But I was here for Mom when she got sick. That’s why I sold.”
John winced visibly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I know,” he murmured, his gaze briefly dropping inshame. “I’m sorry about Aunt Patty, Justice. I really am. She was always good to me.”
Justice swallowed hard, wishing desperately that the surreal nightmare unfolding around her would end. John’s weapon was still lowered, his hands trembling. Maybe he didn’t even know how to use the gun. Taking a cautious breath, she spoke gently. “John, this is insane. Whatever trouble you’ve gotten yourself into, signing these papers isn’t the answer. It’s not going to fix anything.”
