His Love

“Taken care of, Justice.” Benjamin’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I lifted my chin in acknowledgment when he glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

My building came into view, and I was out the door before the car had come to a complete stop. I raced inside and used my fob to unlock the penthouse elevator. I swore a blue streak at the slow ascent and vowed to call the maintenance company and order them to speed it up.

At long last, the car reached the top floor, and the doors whooshed open. My long stride ate up the distance to the door at the opposite end of the hall from mine, but I hesitated when I finally reached it.

The smell of something heavenly was seeping under the door and filling the hallway. My stomach growled, and I pictured the day when I would come home to smells like this coming from my own apartment. And the sight of my barefoot and pregnant wife in the kitchen. Which wouldn’t happen as fast as I wanted if I didn’t take care of those fucking pills.

I raised my hand and rapped on the door with my knuckles. Heavy footsteps got louder as someone approached the door. Probably Paul, Blair’s father, since my girl walked with a light, graceful step. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought she floated everywhere, like the angel she was.

After a few more steps, the lock disengaged, and the door swung open. However, it wasn’t Paul greeting me from inside the apartment. It was a boy, a teenage punk in a school uniform with the same insignia as Blair’s.

Chapter 5

Justice

The little fucker had a cocky smirk on his pretty boy face, but it fell away the minute he clocked my expression. I imagined it looked as deadly as I felt.

“Uh, can I help you?” he stammered, though he tried to sound confident.

I ignored him and pushed inside. “Blair?” I called. Her apartment almost mirrored mine—though mine had a second floor—so I easily navigated straight to the kitchen. I almost fell to my knees at the vision in front of me. Blair’s white-blonde hair was piled on top of her head, and she was wearing a white T-shirt and jean shorts that went to just above her knees. Thank fuck, I didn’t think I could have handled anything else without my head exploding. She had on a frilly pink apron and her feet were bare, showing off her cute, pink-tipped toes.

Something bubbled on the stove, and she stirred it until I rasped her name again. She jumped, clearly noticing me for the first time. Her cheeks bloomed with that pretty blush I loved so much.

“Where’s your dad?” My tone was harsher than I meant for it to be from trying to control myself, and she took a step back. Fuck fuck fuck. I hated that I scared her. When I spoke again, I adopted a softer tone. “Is your dad here, bunny?”

I hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip, but I enjoyed the slight widening of her eyes and the way the flush of her skin spread.

“He’s in his office,” she answered quietly.

I turned around and trained my gaze on the little shithead hovering behind me. “Leave.” My tone brooked no argument, but the kid clearly had a death wish.

He puffed up his scrawny chest and gave me what I was sure was supposed to be a defiant glare, but just made him look like a pouting toddler. “Blair and I are working on a project.”

“Out,” I snapped.

He began to protest again but when I took a few menacing steps in his direction, backing him up into the living room, his mouth opened and closed like a fish. Then he caved and yelled, “I need to get going, Blair. We can work at my house next time.”

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, willing myself to stay calm. I needed to remember that I couldn’t take care of Blair from prison.

I stayed in that position until the front door clicked shut.

“Justice,” I heard Blair snap from behind me. I spun around and almost smiled at how adorable she was. Her hands were on her hips, her face was scrunched in indignation, and her blue eyes were lit with fire. My bunny had more mettle than I thought. Why did that make me want her even more? “Our project is a huge portion of my grade, and I have a hard enough time getting him to work on it when we’re together.”

My eyes narrowed, and my hands clenched into fists. “What are you doing when you’re supposed to be working?” Her answer was bound to piss me the fuck off, but I had to know.

Blair blushed and dug the toes of one foot into the thick carpet. “He mostly tries to convince me to go out with him,” she sighed.