Blind Justice Read online

  To both of them.

  God, would she never learn?

  She couldn’t even look him in the eye as she climbed from his magnificent body, her skin still tingling. “I have to pee.”

  Sex with him had been incredible. Eye-opening. A whole other level she’d never known could exist.

  Maybe none of that had anything to do with her. Maybe Jeff was just that good. Maybe he gave that kind of careful attention and total focus to all of his lovers. Tara knew from personal experience how rare that was.

  “Hey,” Jeff sat up and snagged her hand before she slipped away. “You okay?”

  “Of course.” No. Couldn’t he see the broken shards of her heart scattered across the bed? All that sexual experience and she only now realized how much she’d cheated herself. Even Colin—who’d supposedly loved her—hadn’t made her feel…worshipped. Treasured. Not really. None of them had. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Her attempt at unaffected flippancy didn’t quite work.

  Not with him sitting unabashedly naked in front of her, his warm brown eyes full of concern. For her.

  “You’re really good at that,” she said, placing a quick kiss on his lips and adopting a saucy smile as she freed her hand.

  His brow furrowed. “I wasn’t too…”—his cheeks turned pink—“rough?”

  He was worried about her? Tara’s eyes burned, but she shook it off, flipping her hair over one shoulder and straightening her spine. “To be honest, it’s been a few years, so I’ll probably be a little sore.”

  Jeff frowned. He probably had no idea how big a deal it was that she’d chosen to be with him after years of celibacy.

  “But just in case we ever do that again,” she said, “you should know something.” Giving in to the urge to caress his coarse jaw one last time, she leaned close to whisper in his ear. “I like it a little rough.”

  His sharp intake of breath followed her as she gathered her clothes and walked to the tiny bathroom with her head held high.

  Her satisfaction was short-lived, however. It wasn’t like her to be petty, but she hadn’t wanted to be the only one suffering from regret. Not regret that they’d made love, but that they wouldn’t do it again. If that was how he treated a one-night stand, his past girlfriends were the luckiest women on earth. He deserved better than having Tara take out her frustrations out on him.

  Wasn’t he going through enough?

  After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she twisted her messy hair into a knot on top of her head and dressed. Taking a deep breath she stared into the mirror. Somehow she had to face Jeff, knowing what he could do with his hands and mouth, how he tasted, how he felt moving inside her.

  God. Her body flushed hot.

  Maybe it was time for them to part ways. Once Jeff got Evan back, he was returning to Colorado anyway. His life was there, without her.

  She took a deep breath and stood tall, ready to march out and tell him she would find someplace else to stay and leave in the morning. She couldn’t run from Greg Luciano forever.

  When she opened the bathroom door, a fully dressed Jeff blocked her path. Her stomach jumped, and for a split second she imagined he’d come to convince her that he wasn’t ready to give her up. That he wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her into oblivion, and fuck her against the wall.

  “Valerie just called,” he said, holding out his phone as if to prove it. “Luciano was arrested an hour ago.”

  “He was?” Her lips parted of their own accord, and all the knots in her shoulders released, even as she absorbed the idea that their time together was truly about to end. “That was fast.”

  Jeff nodded. “Apparently the police found damning pictures of him on Mars’s computer or something.”

  “Holy shit.” Her hand flew to her mouth, and she moved to the nearby loveseat before her legs gave out and she landed on the floor. “I didn’t even realize how stressed out I was until now.” This was probably only a fraction of how Jeff had felt when he learned Evan was safe. A shaky laugh escaped her lips and she let out a long breath. “Wow. Okay. So, I can go home.” Perfect timing, right?

  He blinked. “Uh, yeah. The police have the pictures, so you don’t need to be a witness. You’re no longer a threat to him.”

  Her head was still spinning at the good news as she smiled up at Jeff. “Thank you,” she said. “For protecting me.” For showing me how good sex could be and ruining me for all other men. She forced her smile not to slip. At least the experience with Jeff would encourage her to maintain high standards.

  “It was my plea—” He cleared his throat and stuck his hands in his front pockets. “Of course.”

  She wanted to hug him, but it would have been awkward. Forced. She took a deep breath and dug out her phone. “I guess I should check flights.”

  “There aren’t likely to be any leaving tonight,” Jeff said. “Not from an airport this size.”

  She might have to stay another night. A little thrill went through her. Would he want her in his bed?

  Did she want to be there?

  Stupid question.

  On her phone, she pulled up a search engine and looked for flights. “There’s one at six a.m. The only other one with available seats leaves around noon.”

  “With luck, I’ll be driving back tomorrow anyway to pick up my car and talk to Kurt. You could…” He ran a hand through his hair and met her gaze. “Would you stay with me?”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MUFFIN DAVIS FITZHUGH was a winner.

  She hadn’t started life that way. In grade school, she’d been called Hand-Me-Down Girl and Muffin with Nothin’. But by high school, she’d been attracting men’s notice for years, and it was only the girls who hated her. The boys liked her—and what she was willing to do to them—a lot.

  That’s where she’d gotten her first taste of power, something she’d never had in her life before. Not in school, and certainly not at home, where her sister excelled at everything and took what little attention—and money—her parents had to give. Where her deadbeat uncle also took whatever he wanted, whether she wanted to give it or not.

  When she’d learned that a guy would do just about anything for a girl who’d go down on him, she was instantly hooked. As a junior, she turned her sights on the senior boy from the second richest family in town. AJ moved on the fringes of the popular crowd, too much of an introvert to inhabit that space, but he played varsity football and was hardly an outcast.

  He was handsome and sweet and slightly in awe that he’d attracted her notice. And he treated her like a queen until the day he left for college.

  The day of her own graduation, she ruthlessly cut ties with everything and everyone in her small Alabama town and moved to North Carolina. Surviving on ramen while sleeping on another volunteer’s couch, she spent long hours on the state assembly campaign of a young, handsome lawyer from Jacksonville, North Carolina—home to a Marine Corps base and not much else—quickly working her way up from canvasser to volunteer coordinator to campaign manager’s assistant.

  And then she’d finally met Fitz in person. The attraction was instant and incendiary.

  Despite the difference in their ages—he’d been thirty-two—and his family’s protests, they were engaged six months later. What no one else understood was that she and Fitz were the same. They were both driven to succeed at any cost.

  Their drug was power, and together they were unstoppable. Everything she’d done since then—putting up with Fitz’s wandering dick, blackmailing those who got in the way of his career, blowing whoever needed a push—had been in service of their continued rise.

  Fitz had been intelligent enough to see that with her at his side, he’d scale the political ranks higher and faster than with anyone else. She could fight dirty behind the scenes while he put on a show.

  She would always be his fiercest protector because he’d enabled her to claw her way out of poverty and finally show those snobby bitches from back home who actually mattered in this world. />
  Those girls were queens of a landfill of a town that no one had ever heard of. Muffin was on the verge of becoming queen of the world, and only one person stood in her way.

  Tara Fujimoto.

  But not for long.

  Rick jabbed at the phone to end the call with Narwhal, his blood pressure going through the roof. Maybe it was time for another visit to Sonya.

  Tara Fujimoto was still walking around with damaging information in her head and Rick’s hired muscle didn’t have a fucking clue where she or her companion had gone.

  “I have someone sitting on her condo, but so far no activity,” Hank said, throwing out his hands in a helpless gesture. “The guy, Patarava, doesn’t even have a local address. He uses a PO box for Virginia, but his home address is in Colorado. One of my guys there checked it out, but according to neighbors no one’s seen him since before Thanksgiving. The place is being rented out as a vacation home.”

  Rick squeezed a stress ball.

  “Sorry, boss,” Hank said, hands clasped behind his back like a guilty schoolboy facing the principal.

  Rick took a deep breath. His guys could be effective weapons, but they needed someone else to provide the target. “Keep on it. I’ll call Hyper. Maybe she can track them down.”

  The giant enforcer nodded, relief softening his rough looks. “Yes, sir.” Hank left the room.

  As soon as the door shut, Rick dialed a number from memory. “I have a rush job for you,” he said when the woman answered the line.

  “Name?” Hyper asked in a voice that made her sound about fifteen.

  For all he knew, she was. “Tara Kazuko Fujimoto and Jeffrey Michael Patarava.” He passed on their birthdates and socials. “I’ll send you copies of the reports I have.” Under a shell corporation he had an account with a credit check service. Between that and access to real-time GPS locations provided by the cellular providers, he usually had all he needed to track someone down. But these two had done a runner and turned off their phones, so stronger measures were needed. “Both work for Steele Security.”

  “Steele? Holy shit.” A keyboard clacked in the background. “Valerie Sanchez works there.” A loud slurp grated on Rick’s ears. “Actually, I think she’s Valerie Kramer now.”

  “And I care why?”

  “Dude, she’s like, hacker royalty. But she turned white hat. Made the news a few years back when she was accused of espionage.”

  Rick made an impatient noise.

  “I’m sure she has everyone at Steele locked down tighter than your ass,” Hyper said, followed by more tapping of keys. “This could actually be fun.”

  Whatever. “I’ll put the money into your usual account. Double if you find them before noon tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing, Suit.” The line went dead.

  Rick sat back and pressed his palms to his forehead. These days, he spent far too much time waiting for other people to get the important shit done. No wonder his blood pressure was pegging the needle.

  Time for some serious stress relief.

  He made another call. “Sonya? I need you.”

  Would you stay with me?

  Jeff had panicked. His relief at learning of Luciano’s arrest had been tempered by the realization that there was nothing to make Tara stay.

  Obviously, Jeff wanted her to be safe.

  He also wanted her with him. More than he dared to admit.

  Jesus, how selfish could he be? He wanted her. He couldn’t have her. Why couldn’t he make up his fucking mind?

  She’d infiltrated his senses the way rain seeps into the earth, permeating his body and soul before he understood what was happening.

  “What about Evan?” she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. The wide-eyed expression on her sweet face was a mix of surprise, confusion, maybe a little hope.

  Shit. What was he doing?

  Jeff didn’t want to face tomorrow alone. Which was beyond dumb. He’d been facing things alone for years now. He’d been waiting for this day for months. Tara wasn’t gong to be part of his and Evan’s lives moving forward, so involving her now could only lead to heartbreak.

  “If you stay, you can meet him before we go back to Colorado.” His son was part of him, and Jeff suddenly wanted to share all of himself with her. But nothing else had changed. Better to get that upfront now.

  The sparkle in her eyes dimmed. “That would be nice, but I don’t want to get in the way of your reunion.”

  Jeff rubbed his temples with one hand. He was fucking this up. “It’s not just that.” He took a fortifying breath and crossed his arms. “I’ve been handling this on my own for months, not talking to anyone outside of my PI about it, not dealing with it. I thought that was how I wanted it, but now you’re here and I realize…I was wrong.”

  For a fraction of a second, he thought she might cry. Her dark eyes glittered with emotion and she swallowed hard. Then she tilted her head and gave him a coy smile, lifting a shoulder as she switched to seductress mode like flipping a coin. “If you want more sex, just ask.”

  He laughed out loud, letting her lighten the mood, even as he took the direct hit. “I’d be lying if I said no, but that’s not why I’m asking you to stay.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to be one of those guys, Tara. I value everything about you.”

  She looked away and bit her lip. Could she really doubt her appeal?

  “I know you don’t need my protection any more, and I don’t have anything else to offer. I understand if you still want to leave first thing in the morning…” He’d hate it, but he’d absolutely understand.

  “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

  “I’d like to think so.” Friends with some stellar benefits.

  “So why wouldn’t I stay?” She shrugged and ran her nail along a seam in the seat. “It’s not like I have anything else going on, and I’d love to meet your son.”

  “Thank you.” Rather than whoop in triumph, he held out a hand. “How about we get some dinner? I’m starving.”

  Neither of them had the patience for a dine-in restaurant, so they walked to a busy deli nearby and brought sandwiches back to the RV. Now that the sun had set, street lamps and interior lights shining through the windows of Winnebagos and Coachstreams lit the campground.

  Jeff laid out the food while Tara filled two glasses of water and set them on the table. As he slid into the dinette, he couldn’t stop thinking about tomorrow, imagining how and where he’d see Evan again, what he’d say, what his son would look like after four months. Would the kid remember his dad?

  A lump formed in Jeff’s throat and eating his reuben suddenly seemed like an impossible feat.

  Tara chewed a bite of her Mediterranean veggie sandwich and lowered her brows, daintily wiping her mouth before asking him, “What’s wrong?”

  He took a drink and shook his head. “Nothing. Just thinking about tomorrow.”

  “You don’t look too happy about it.”

  He shook his head and forced a smile. “No, I am. Of course I am.”

  She twined a finger around one of his and gave it a gentle shake. “Evan’s going to be happy to see you.”

  Jeff stared at their loosely connected hands, tempted to pull her across the table and kiss her until neither of them could hold a thought. “It’s been a long time for a four-year-old. He might not remember me.”

  “Maybe if he’d only met you once or twice—or if you’d been apart for years—but he saw you every week, right? He knew you were his dad. That’s a whole other level of emotional attachment.”

  Jeff nodded. Asking her to stay had been the right choice. “You’re right. I’m just nervous. My brain won’t stop running scenarios.”

  She smiled. “That’s a sign of intelligence, you know. Not everyone knows how to mentally prepare for what’s ahead.”

  He chuckled and shook his head. He loved her view of the world. He loved a lot of things about her. “It’s probably more a reflection of my training than any great intelligence on my p
art.”

  Popping a French fry in her mouth, she chewed and swallowed before responding. “You’re studying to be an engineer, right?”

  He nodded.

  “And you made it through the weed-out classes already. So you’re no dummy.”

  He shrugged. “I’m motivated and I work hard, but it doesn’t come naturally or anything. I’m no Einstein.”

  “If it came easily to you, I wouldn’t be as impressed.”

  She was impressed? Jeff had no idea how to respond to that, so he started eating.

  He was proud of his accomplishments, he’d worked hard for his 3.5 GPA, but it wasn’t like he was doing anything that thousands of people hadn’t done before.

  “What do you like about engineering?” Tara asked, rolling her crumb-filled wrapper into a ball.

  Good question. He stood to clear their trash and thought about it. “I’ve always liked knowing how and why things work. As a kid, I played with Legos, and took apart watches and calculators, and helped my dad work on cars.” When his brother Ian was otherwise occupied, anyway.

  “Why didn’t you major in meteorology?”

  “I enjoyed it. There’s definitely some crossover, like thermodynamics, but I’ve always wanted to work on something tangible. Mechanical engineering combines physics, math, materials science, electrical circuits, programming, a little bit of everything. I could design cars, appliances, manufacturing equipment, almost anything. It’s creating rather than forecasting.”

  “Tangible and predictable.”

  He slid in across from her with two beers he’d taken from the fridge, opened the bottles, and set one in front of her. “You make it sound boring.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She sipped the IPA and gave an approving nod. “I was thinking about business school. Instead of working out problems with unambiguous solutions, we memorized lists of approaches for dealing with various scenarios, learned theories of human behavior, tools for negotiation, how interpretation and application of the law depends on the judge and existing case law. You can’t just understand a formula and solve for the answer.”