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Justice

Page 98

   


Jessie placed the gun on the sink, unfastened her vest, removed the last ammo clip and laid it next to the weapon. Gentle hands helped her strip bare and her friend turned on the shower, adjusting the water. Justice is going to make it. I’m suffering from severe shock and I want to curl into a ball and sob. Exhaustion also gripped her, along with guilt.
This wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t pushed him into publically claiming me. It’s my fault for not being happy with the nights we spent at my house.
“Jessie? The water is warm. I’ll stay right here.” Halfpint rubbed her arm. “You look so sad but it’s going to be okay. Justice is a strong male and he’ll survive.”
She shook her thoughts away to stare at her friend. “Don’t touch the gun. I want to keep it and I don’t want to risk you accidentally firing it, thinking you’re doing me a favor by getting rid of it while I’m in the shower.”
Halfpint glanced at the sink, then back at Jessie. “I wouldn’t ever. They scare me.”
Jessie believed her and stepped into the warm spray of water. She looked down to stare at the water that turned red at her feet from the blood coming off her body. She’d killed Species. It was their blood going down the drain, along with her future happiness. One night had torn her world apart.
“Jessie? Are you okay? You’re not doing anything.”
She lifted her head and forced her limbs to move as she accepted the washcloth handed to her. She used lots of soap to scrub her skin, washed her hair and allowed her friend to wash her back where she couldn’t reach.
“I’m not glad this happened,” the other woman murmured. “But I’m happy I’m here to help you this time. You took care of me when I was rescued. It’s going to be fine, Jessie. You said those words to me and I believed them. You were right. It’s your turn to listen to me say them and believe me. It’s going to be fine.”
Jessie knew it couldn’t turn out well. Justice had claimed her and some of his people had attempted to kill him. She should have listened to him when he said no one could know about them. She had thought he was being overprotective and paranoid, a mistake on her part, and now Justice lay recovering from surgery. He’d come close to death and the only way to fix the problem would be to leave him. Her heart broke.
She dried off quickly and someone tapped lightly on the door. Tiny opened it and peeked inside, then entered quickly to close it behind her. She studied Jessie as she held out folded clothing. She glanced at Halfpint.
“With her large br**sts I didn’t think our shirts would fit and I know humans wear bras. We don’t have one to give her but I borrowed a shirt from a male outside who had a spare clean shirt inside his Jeep. It will prevent her free breast movement from showing to keep her modesty. The pants should fit. How are we doing?”
Halfpint hesitated. “Good. She’s not talking much.”
Tiny gave Jessie a weak smile. “Everyone is talking about what you did. You saved Justice. They think you are very brave and you should be an experimental prototype female, which is a compliment. Some of our males said you were guarding Justice with two guns aimed at them when they reached the house and that you killed four males.
No one is upset over the deaths. Are you afraid of that? We are not mad. We’re grateful.”
“I killed four Species males. How can you be grateful?”
“They were wrong to go after you and Justice. Their heads were not right and ones who would turn on their own shouldn’t live. They are not safe to be around for anyone.
We are grateful you and Justice live and they didn’t kill you.”
Jessie needed to sit down, not caring that she only wore a towel. She collapsed on the toilet seat. “Not everyone is going to be grateful. That means it’s going to piss some Species off and they will try to come after Justice again because of me.” Tears slid down her cheeks unheeded. “He told me no one should know about us and that it would be dangerous. I never thought his own people would try to kill him. I’ve caused a civil war.”
Tiny appeared baffled. “Here are the clothes.” She left.
“Let’s get you dressed,” Halfpint urged softly. “Come on, Jessie. It is going to be fine. You want to go back to sit with him, right?”
Jessie put on the pair of borrowed stretch pants and baggy T-shirt that fell to her thighs. She didn’t have a bra or panties but didn’t care. Her reflection mocked her when she faced the mirror. She was paler than usual and her eyes looked wrong—their blue depths were darker than normal and red rimmed from crying. Her hand closed over the gun blindly and she glanced down at the implement of death.
“I’m ready to go back.”
“You don’t need the gun, Jessie.”
“I’m keeping it.” She fisted the spare clip. “This isn’t over.”
“Okay. Keep it if it makes you feel safe.”
They walked back to the main room and she zoned right for Tiger. He stood from sitting on the desk so she could take up her position guarding her mate.
“Jessie? Can I please have the gun?”
She shook her head. “Not until he’s up and able to defend himself.”
“It could be days,” he tried to reason. “They’ve given him medication to help him heal but it still takes time. It was a bad wound.”
“Then you can have it in a few days.”
He sighed. “You have to sleep sometime. You might shoot yourself or someone else by accident.”