wobbles. With a faint smile, she takes his offering.
“Ye’re, uh,” he clears his throat, “gonna have to tie it all together for me, for us. Why are ye running from the guy?”
I’m too engrossed with concern for Justice to reach over and take a hand to Brody’s forehead. Does he have a fever? Damn, we’re in a ghost town, an ideal backdrop for a zombie apocalypse movie, and this bastard’s already soulless.
Justice sniffles, continuing her story. “Marcus said he’d spent so much money setting the foundation for the new, improved Lance. He said I did this. I nagged Lance—guilt-tripped him. Marcus demanded that I give him a hundred grand for him priming the city for Lance, money spent on promos. The drug dealer turned producer had mismanaged it all.”
I suck on air. “Sounds like a creep.”
“Turns out, I underestimated Marcus. He’s more than a creep.”
“Wit he do, Justice?” Brody asks.
“Well, I didn’t take Marcus’ threats seriously until he roughed up my dad. My dad told me to leave, and he’d try to pay him. My parents dug into their 401k.”
“When was this? How long have you been without your family?” I murmur. “For four years, you haven’t . . .”
I remember one time I’d asked Justice what her plans were for the holidays. I assumed my last name was the reason she politely shrugged me off.
“Little over five years. I still owe him about twenty grand. The odd jobs I’ve taken aren’t much help. My parents are robbing Peter to pay Paul.”
“Ye dinna owe him another dollar,” Brody declares. “How’d he find ye now?”
“This time?” she mutters.
“Where all have ye been?”
“A bunch of places. New York was my last, longest stop before meeting you and Michie,” Justice says. “After we served those guys, like I said, I took the money to Western Union. My father got worried that Marcus found me again. So, I moved.”
“Where were you this entire time?” I inquire in a warm tone. “Michie said―”
“A woman’s shelter.” Justice continues to talk without giving us a moment to digest her words. “I recouped some funds on tips, then decided it was time to start over.”
Brody mumbles something inaudible.
Running a vulnerable hand along her forearm, she adds, “I had a tiny studio. Not much to move that can’t fit in the backseat of my Accord. Don’t worry about me, Chevelle.”
“That’s impossible,” I mutter, thoughts pulling me in a thousand directions. How can I help Justice? I haven’t a pillow or a bed to give her. Hell, the clothes on my back aren’t mine either. “We’ll figure—”
“Ye’re coming with us,” Brody orders.
For the first time in our toxic relationship, I’m not targeting Brody’s jugular after he wipes the floor with my heart.
A little while later, Brody’s transferring Justice’s items from the trunk of her Honda to the bed of his truck. With each move, the weight at the bumper redistributes, moving inches away from the asphalt.
Her voice appears to be choked up. I gauge what she’s saying by the movements of her mouth: “Thank you.”
As we watch, I lock elbows with Justice. “Things will be okay.”
When my cell phone rings, I slip it from my pocket for a quick glance. “That’s one of Mia’s other uncles. With our current series of unfortunate events, I’d better take this.”
She nods before I step away a few paces.
“Hey, Cam? Please tell me things are . . .” At a loss for words, I lift my shoulders. “Tell me things are the same or better even.”
“Nah, can’t do that. I think you're gonna want to unblock Leith’s cell phone number. He’s got the katana that was sticking out of the back of his Audi.”
“What?”
“Yeah, he took the katana and bolted.”
“I haven't the slightest idea why the damn sword set him off,” I snort.
“Apparently, Mia told him you left them, and then he got all suspicious. He’s going after some guy named Michie.”
“Oh shit.” I groan.
“Yeah, oh shit. I told Leith that I doubt you’re there. But on the off chance that you are—”
“I’m in New Mexico!” I exclaim. “Listen, Cam, I’m calling your brother now. If he doesn’t answer me, I need you to blow up his phone too. Where’s Big Brody or Nan?”
“Why? Ya know, I’m supposed to be Team Leith. But you never turned off my favorite cartoons when I was little.”
“Cam, wait—”
“Just a heads up, sis. Leith’ll probably chop the guy’s head off. Very quick and efficient.”
I dish out each word slowly. “You guys can’t go around killing people!”
“You guys? You’ve