Blind Justice Read online

  It was a testament to his own exhaustion—and Evan’s youth or the pain meds—that either of them had been able to sleep.

  Standing at his son’s bedside, Jeff took a gulp of water from a bottle he’d bought last night, and swished it around his mouth in a vain effort to erase his morning breath. Evan looked like a tiny angel on the big mattress, swathed in blankets to keep him warm. Jeff wanted to scoop him up and hold him tight and never let him out of his sight again.

  The surgeon had used pins to repair Evan’s humerus and splinted the arm. He’d get a cast once the stitches came out, and his doctors expected a full recovery.

  Jeff smoothed back the silky brown hair that fell over Evan’s forehead. His son’s good arm was looped around the stuffed dog Jeff had found in the RV, and one foot stuck out from the sheets, as if to show off his new Spider-Man socks.

  The socks and a bouquet of colorful balloons had been delivered within hours after Jeff texted Tara about Evan’s condition. She was so fucking perfect it hurt.

  Don’t go there.

  He tore his mind away from thoughts of Tara’s laugh, her gorgeous brown eyes, her soft skin…

  Evan woke for the second time that morning when the nurse entered to check his vitals and deliver a late breakfast. “Good morning,” she said, her voice cheerful.

  His hazel eyes were bright but wary, and he didn’t speak.

  Jeff’s heart twisted. “Morning, buddy.” Kids were resilient. He could only hope that with a lot of therapy and even more love, his son would come out of this okay. “How’re you feeling?”

  “My arm hurts.”

  “I know. I think the nurse has something to help make you feel better.” If Jeff could’ve taken his son’s pain as his own, he’d have done it without hesitation.

  The woman nodded and smiled. “Just give it a few minutes.” She replaced Evan’s IV bags, made some notes in the computer, and left.

  According to Jeff’s conversation with Dr. Kayani earlier, barring infection, Evan should be able to go home tomorrow.

  Home.

  Jeff had been waiting so long to have Evan back in his life, to return with him to Colorado and his little house a few miles from CU, which was currently covering its own mortgage as a vacation rental. They could be there by early April and Jeff could return to school during the fall semester.

  Except he’d need to get a job until classes started. If he wasn’t in school, he wouldn’t have health care and the GI Bill wouldn’t pay his mortgage.

  Without health insurance, how would he take care of Evan?

  Jeff didn’t have to pay Olivia’s fees anymore, but most of his income from Steele had gone to the investigation. If he used all his savings to cover living expenses now, he’d have no buffer in case it took him a while to find a job after graduation.

  He grimaced. He’d never expected the search for Evan to go on this long, so he hadn’t considered the implications of the timing when it finally ended.

  Returning to Steele for the spring and summer was the easy solution. The pay and benefits were generous. If he stayed with Steele, there’d be no break in Evan’s care, and he could get him a therapist too.

  By taking on pen tests and security investigations instead of playing bullet-catcher, Jeff’s travel could be limited, and he wouldn’t risk making Evan an orphan. Or having guns in the house.

  The other guys at Steele somehow reconciled their jobs with having families, but he couldn’t do it. His son had lost enough already, and Jeff had come far too close to losing him.

  Jeff’s dad—a former geneticist who’d retired from teaching high school biology a few years ago, and was on a flight from Colorado Springs at that moment—might be willing to stay with them to watch Evan during the day if Jeff rented a big enough place, maybe a townhouse in Annandale or Springfield.

  Except Evan had been dragged around by Bridget for months. He needed some stability in his life. After his ordeal, wouldn’t it be best to take him straight home?

  Not to mention, if they moved to Virginia for the next few months, Jeff would have to see Tara again.

  Shitty as it sounded, he’d felt free to be with her because they weren’t going to work together anymore. But if he went back, he’d have to face her with new knowledge. Like where to kiss her to elicit those sexy-as-hell breathy moans. The glow of her naked skin. That she liked it a little bit rough. God help him.

  More than that, he knew that she was so much more than a pretty face. Compassionate, thoughtful, good with children—with everyone, really—smart, tough.

  Still a city girl, but not afraid to get dirty.

  Pretty damn perfect.

  His stupid heart sped up at the idea of seeing Tara regularly. Was four months enough time to explore whether things could work out permanently between them?

  Jesus, how could he even consider it? Evan was priority one.

  Maybe she could be good for Evan, too. With her cheerful outlook, she might be able to help his son deal with this nightmare, much as she had helped Jeff. Or was he manufacturing excuses to be with her?

  “Are you going to give me away?” Evan asked, breaking into Jeff’s thoughts as he toyed with his toast.

  “What?” Jeff gripped the handrails on the bed. Where had he picked up that idea? “Of course not. Why would I?”

  “You didn’t want me before.”

  All the air left him in a rush. He gaped for a moment. “Evan, I’ve always wanted you.”

  The boy shook his head. “You gave me to Mommy. She said you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

  What the everloving fuck? “Oh, no, Evan. She was wrong.” Jeff was going to wear his molars to the nub if he didn’t calm down. Goddamned Bridget. How could she? “Maybe that’s what she believed, but she was wrong.” He didn’t want to paint her as a liar. After all, the kid had worshipped her. “I love you. I’ve always wanted to be your dad.”

  “But you didn’t come to see me.”

  Christ. “I tried, peanut. I came to your house, but you and your mom had moved. I didn’t know where you went, and I’ve been looking for you ever since. I even hired someone to help me find you.” He was practically begging for his son to believe him. Did that make him sound more or less sincere to a four-year-old?

  Evan thrust his stubborn chin into the air and pressed his lips into a thin line. He met Jeff’s gaze, his stubby little fingers gripping the toy dog’s fur. “You looked for me?” he whispered.

  Jeff scooted closer. “For such a long time. I was scared I’d never get to see you again.”

  “How long?”

  “Since you were three.”

  Evan’s eyes widened. “Really?”

  Jeff nodded. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday. I would’ve been there if I’d known where you were.” His throat turned painfully tight. During the last four months, he’d somehow kept the fear and anguish bottled up, but now he was on emotional overload.

  “I missed you, but Mommy said Roy was my new daddy.”

  That fucking bitch. Jeff forced himself to take a deep breath and relax his muscles. His son needed someone calm in his life. Stable.

  “He was nice to me until I broke his favorite coffee cup. Then Mommy left and he started yelling all the time. And then he wanted to hurt me.”

  So much for calm. Jeff couldn’t stop reliving the terror and helplessness of knowing that Roy had taken Evan hostage. At gunpoint.

  “I didn’t mean to make him mad, Daddy.”

  Jeff’s chest cracked open. “Hey.” He waited for his son to look at him and then smoothed Evan’s hair out of his eyes. “I have something really important to tell you, okay?”

  Evan nodded, all serious.

  “This is not your fault. You did nothing wrong. Roy was mad at your mom, but she wasn’t there, so he got angry at you instead.” Jeff hugged him close. “He shouldn’t have done that, Evan. Don’t ever think this is your fault.”

  “I miss Mommy.” Evan sobbed into Jeff’s neck.

&nb
sp; Shit. “I know, buddy.” Jeff’s eyes burned at the boy’s heartbreak. “I’m so sorry. She would be here with you if she could.” At least that much was true. Bridget hadn’t been a great mother, but she had loved her child in her own horrible way.

  “Will she come back?” Evan’s voice shook.

  Jeff’s heart turned to lead, his throat so tight he could hardly breathe. “No, baby. She can’t.”

  Evan turned his face away, shaking with sobs. The clock slowed to a crawl as Evan’s world crumbled, and Jeff held on tight, unable to do anything to make it better. He thought he’d felt helpless before? He’d known nothing compared to the futile desire to bring back someone from the dead just to ease his child’s pain.

  Too much pain for such a little body.

  Jeff was so far out of his depth he was drowning. He stroked Evan’s hair and just sat with him. Beneath his hands, Evan was warm, alive, on his way back to being whole. Jeff would do whatever it took to keep him that way.

  After a couple of minutes, the sobs subsided and Evan groggily mumbled, “Daddy? Will you stay?”

  The tension slid from Jeff’s shoulders and he rested his chin on the guardrail with a sigh. “I’m not going anywhere, Ev.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “MOMMY!” EVAN’S CRIES filled the room later that morning.

  Jeff set down the mystery novel he’d been trying to use as a distraction from the concern for Evan and heartache over Tara that had been running through his mind on an endless loop. He reached for the boy’s hand. “Evan. Shhh. It’s okay. You’re awake now. You’re safe.”

  His son quieted, his breath slowing by degrees as he opened his eyes and pinned Jeff with a direct stare. “Daddy?”

  “I’m right here.”

  Evan’s face turned red and his eyebrows dropped, but he shook off the tears, blinking rapidly a few times before nodding. He sucked in a couple of breaths and then released the air slowly. “I’m not going to cry anymore.”

  “All right,” Jeff said carefully. “If you want. But it’s okay if you do.”

  “You don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “All the time?” Evan wriggled and sat up with Jeff’s help, wincing when his shoulder moved, but not crying out.

  Jeff chuckled. “No, not all the time. Just when I’m very sad, or sometimes when I’m really happy. I’ve done it several times this weekend.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled at his son. His son. Who was blessedly alive and talking to him. “Because I was happy I found you. And because I was sad when I found out you’d been hurt.” Because I thought you might die.

  “You cried because of me?” Evan looked at him with a mix of wonder and disbelief.

  “I did. Because I love you.”

  “Oh.” He seemed to think about it for a minute, stroking his fingers over the soft fur of the stuffed puppy. “I love you too, Daddy. I’m glad you found me.”

  Jeff’s chest swelled. Grinning, feeling truly free and light for the first time in months, he kissed Evan on the forehead. Had anyone ever loved a child this much? “Me too, Ev.”

  No way was his son over his trauma already, but maybe he was starting to trust that Jeff cared as much as he said he did.

  “When can we go home?” Evan asked.

  “The doctor said maybe tomorrow.”

  “Will we go to your house?”

  “I think so. Would you like that?” Jeff still had some decisions to make, but he didn’t need to make them today. “It’ll be our house.”

  His son squeezed Pickles the dog and nodded vigorously. “Can we get a puppy?”

  Jeff laughed. It was going to be hard to say no to this kid. “If you can learn to stop talking with food in your mouth, I’ll think about it.”

  Evan’s eyes lit with excitement, and he pressed his fingers to his lips as if that could help him remember. “What’s the name of the lady who gave me the socks? The one you worked with.” Evan said, abruptly switching gears. “I forgot.”

  Jeff took a deep breath. “Tara Fujimoto.” Just saying her name tugged at his soul.

  “Foo-jee-moh-toh,” the boy said with exaggerated care, and then giggled. “Foo-jee-moh-toh. I like it.”

  I like her. Far too much.

  “Is she coming here?” he asked, unknowingly twisting the knife in Jeff’s heart.

  “I don’t know. She lives in Virginia and we live in Colorado.”

  “Oh.” His little face turned thoughtful. “Maybe we could go to Vir-ja too.”

  Jeff stared at him. They might not have a choice, but if Evan didn’t mind… “Maybe.”

  Or was he just putting his dick first? Interpreting a four-year-old’s offhanded comment to fit his desires.

  No, he still needed health care, Tara or not.

  Evan relaxed into the pillow, his eyes drooping. “Could we send her a picture of me wearing my socks?”

  How was he so sweet after living with Bridget and Roy, and after losing them both in such violent ways? Jeff slid his phone from his back pocket. “I’m sure she’d like that. Let me help you with the sheets.” He moved the bedside table with its empty tray and lifted the thick covers so Evan could stick both feet out sideways.

  His legs beneath the hospital gown were so skinny. Jeff was hit with a fresh wave of fear at how fragile his little body was. At how close Evan had come to being killed.

  The boy produced a drowsy smile, wiggling his toes as Jeff snapped photos. “Say thank you.”

  “Will do, peanut.”

  Sunday morning around ten, Tara opened the blinds and stood at the living room window. Mick and Jenna had stretched their budget to live by the beach, but hadn’t sprung for an ocean view. Instead, the window showcased a large playground in a pit of sand, where Tara had pushed Robbie on the swings during her last visit.

  The grassy central courtyard ringed with leafless trees and a sidewalk didn’t look so scary in the daylight.

  Despite being on her second cup of coffee, she couldn’t stop a yawn. She’d awakened with a crick in her neck and a numb arm. But she’d slept, so that was something, even if her dreams were wild and frightening.

  When she wasn’t worrying about Robbie or last night’s near break-in, she was fretting over Evan and Jeff. How was Evan holding up after the trauma he’d been through? How was he handling his injuries? It had to be driving Jeff crazy that he couldn’t do anything to help his son recover.

  Other than being there. And wasn’t that what his son needed most right now? Someone to love him unconditionally, gently, fiercely.

  The way she’d so badly wanted her parents to love her.

  No wonder Jeff had no room for her in his life. Wishing things could be different was pointless and selfish, and did nothing to eradicate the hollow ache in her chest.

  Her phone buzzed. Speak of the Devil. Jeff had sent her a photo. Tara’s heart melted at the sight of Evan dwarfed by the hospital bed, showing off his new socks. His smile was sweet and sleepy beneath a wall painting of Elmo from Sesame Street. THANK YOU spanned the top of the photo in crayon-like script, followed by Jeff’s message.

  He loves the socks. That was really nice of you.

  She swallowed hard, wishing she had the right to be there with them both, and tapped out a reply.

  They look great! How’s he doing?

  Jeff’s response took a minute. Some pain, but the drugs help. He’s already asleep again. Probably here until tomorrow. How’s your friend?

  So, they were talking again. It felt good in the moment, but it would only prolong the pain of her heartache.

  Mom and baby are fine. Robbie’s a little out of sorts, still sleeping.

  She considered telling him about their scary event, but stopped herself. The last thing he needed was more to worry about. Assuming he’d worry at all.

  And he would, because he might not love her, but he cared. He wasn’t an asshole.

  Are you

  She stopped. Why was she drawing this out? A cle
an break was best. She deleted the last two words and hit Send.

  In the hallway, the toilet flushed followed by the faucet running, giving her a good excuse to end the chat.

  Robbie’s awake. Gotta go.

  A minute later, a miniature Mr. Incredible appeared in the living room.

  “Hey, honey. How’re you feeling?”

  “Good. Are Mom and Dad coming home?” His eyes were clear this morning, and his voice sounded better.

  “Not yet. It’ll probably just be your dad today. Your mom and Mia should be back tomorrow.”

  “Oh.”

  Tara knelt in front of the boy and gave him a hug. “We can call them after you eat something, okay?”

  He nodded against her shoulder and then pushed gently away.

  “If you go wash your face, I’ll make you pancakes.”

  He turned his big blue puppy-dog eyes her way and tucked his chin. “Waffles?”

  Tara smiled. This kid. “Okay, waffles, but you have to do a good job.”

  He nodded and ran toward the hallway and returned a few minutes later with his face scrubbed clean. “I’m hungry.”

  “I’ll bet. Do you know where the waffle maker is?”

  He nodded and opened the cupboard while she gathered ingredients.

  Two hours later they were both stuffed and happy. While Robbie was on the phone with his parents, Tara had returned the kitchen to its former pristine glory. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to keep house, she just got lazy living alone. If her mess didn’t bother her, what was the point in worrying about it when no one else was there to care?

  Robbie held out the phone. “My mom wants to talk to you.”

  Tara smiled and took the receiver. “How are you?”

  “Worried. I can’t believe someone tried to break in last night.”

  Mick hadn’t wanted to tell her, but he’d known Robbie wouldn’t be able to talk about anything else. Plus, Jenna would be pissed at Tara and Mick for keeping her in the dark.

  “I know. It was scary, but we’re all fine. Your alarm system did its job.”