Justice(11)

***

Even Justice sleeps, or at least I imagine he does. Who the hell knows? I’m too tired to think about it. This hero has been on the clock over twenty-four hours, and fell asleep leaning against the wall of the prison. Harry shoved coffee down my throat and sent me packing. The prison is only about fifteen minutes from my apartment, and I barely make it. I park my borrowed brown work Sedan only a block from my building, something that never happens. I usually have to walk at least three.

My building is a five-story brownstone built in the early twenties by Justin’s great-grandfather. He offered to let me stay rent free, but my stupid pride wouldn’t let me accept. The apartment was just the last in a long line of things he kept trying to buy for me. Cars, clothes, trips, even ice skates once. I refused. Didn’t want to prove his Aunt Lucy right that I was just there for the money. As if she has a job.

I’m on the fifth floor with one other person, Mrs. Jeffrey. Old woman, lots of cats. She’s hard of hearing, so my late comings and goings don’t bother her. She loves me. One time her water heater broke. I just called Justin and it was replaced within a few hours. I got a couple of muffin baskets out of that one. Had to refuse the cat, though.

The apartment’s small but cozy with the original hardwood floors, stone fireplace, kitchen nook that is as pristine as when I moved in, a closet, one bedroom and bath. Simple, just the way I like it. I’m not much of a decorator, so the walls are pretty bare except for the odd family photo or poster Justin bought me as a gift. I have about five old noir movie posters like The Lady from Shanghai and Double Indemnity. They look pretty cool. My favorite has a place of honor above the fireplace. An authentic Japanese samurai sword from the sixteenth century. The handle is black with white writing in Japanese. “Duty before all else.” Does my best friend know me or what?

I don’t bother even turning on the lights. I kick my shoes off at the door, my jacket goes over the dark blue velour loveseat, the shirt and pants fall in a pile by my bed. I pull on my flannel pajamas before crawling in bed, setting my gun on the nightstand, and set the alarm for eight. I close my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep because the clock reads 4:23, an hour and a half after I last looked. The creaking floor boards should worry me. I’m still half asleep when I hear them, but fully awake when I catch a whiff of that familiar scent. Old Spice. I do love that smell.

“Harry?” I ask groggily.

He stands in the door, holding his shoes in his hand. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay.”

He sits on the other side of the bed, and I flip over to face him. I watch as he shakes off his jacket and lays it on the chair in the corner. “I almost fell asleep at the wheel,” he whispers as he sets his watch on the nightstand. “Didn’t want to chance it. Your place was closer.”

“I gave you the key to use anytime for any reason,” I whisper back.

He strips down to his boxers and white undershirt, neatly folding everything before setting it on the chair. A person wouldn’t know it by looking at him dressed in those stuffy suits, but he’s got a great body. Toned chest, arms, and legs with only a hint of middle age spread around the stomach and waist. He hates it when I nibble him there, but they don’t call them love handles for nothing.

I pull the covers back for him before he sets his gun and glasses next to the watch. “I’m exhausted,” he says with a sigh as he lies next to me on his back. “And if I have to speak to one more city official, I’ll throw myself in front of a car.”

I settle in my favorite spot, my arm and leg flung over him and my head resting on his beating heart. He wraps his arm around my back, hand resting on my bare hip. “Can’t have that. Who else would put up with me?” I whisper with a smile.

He smiles and kisses the top of my head. “Got that right.”

I close my eyes, nestling in closer. We both lie there silent for a minute as he traces a circle on my hip. Even after five months, his touch still makes me tingle. “I’m scared, Jo,” he finally says. “He wanted you there for a reason. He could have…”

I press his hand to my lips and kiss his fingertips. “Hey, I’m fine.”

“What you did tonight was insane. Completely insane, reckless, and stupid.”

“I know,” I whisper. “I just…he winked at me. You’re not disappointed in me, right? For letting him get away?”

“Of course not. You were a hero tonight. A stupid one, but a hero none-the-less.”

With a smile I snuggle in closer to him. “Thank you.” He continues tracing my hip but doesn’t relax. “What?”