Wound Up(104)
His tone softened. “If you get involved here, you can learn some. In the meantime, I happen to know a construction crew who’s always looking for cleanup people. Means walking around picking up nails and boards and stuff, but it pays pretty well. I’m willing to make the call if you’ll pull your head out of your ass and man up.”
Grace watched as Justin retreated from the violence that had nearly claimed him. He was working this kid like a pro, scaring him, then offering him redemption and a way to save face. Making it personal.
She took a step toward him but he held his hand out. “Not yet. Not while I have a gun in my hands.” He stepped back, the weapon tucked up close to his body so Gavin wouldn’t be able to return the favor and take it away from him. “Now what’s it going to be?”
“You going to call the cops?”
“Them or the bodymobile. Your choice. You have to accept responsibility for your actions, Gavin. You chose every single move you made over the past, what, three months?”
“Two.”
“Two months, then. That’s what being a real man is all about—earning your way in the world, owning your mistakes and working to be a better man. It has nothing to do with what you can take by force. Feeding on those weaker than you doesn’t make you better, it just makes you a target for more people—those who are stronger and want to prove a point and those who are weaker who you’ve done wrong.” Justin clicked the gun’s safety on. “Be glad I stopped subscribing to that warped take-by-force mentality a long time ago. Now, what’s it going to be?”
“Call the cops.”
“Make the call, Grace.”
She rushed to the phone and dialed with shaking hands. When all was said and done, she turned back to Justin, fighting to keep calm.
He looked over to her and smiled even as worry continued to fill his gaze. “So, you love me, huh?”
“Enough that I’m going to absolutely kill you when this is over and we’re alone again.”
“She’s crazy about me,” he said to Gavin.
“No need to rub it in, asshole,” Gavin muttered.
Justin snorted. “Yeah. There is.”
“Both of you cut it out.” She sank to the floor, buried her face in her hands and, through the tears, tried to make her mind slow down and work even a little logically. Everything Justin had been through had brought him here, to this moment. It had enabled him to handle staring down the barrel of a large-bore handgun without blinking, without folding, without fear. She’d grown up rough, but she was nowhere near as prepared as he’d been to embrace the violence and meet it blow for blow. What he’d done, who he’d been and who he was now, they’d all come together in those terrorizing minutes. This world was where he was meant to be—the same hell she’d worked so hard to escape. If she stayed with him, would he only pull her down again? Or would he able to show her how to do what he’d done, to find true healing in the heart of despair?
Grace looked up to find Justin watching her. “You were so comfortable with the ugliness.”
He didn’t answer, only stared.
Tears traced down her cheeks, hot against her chilled skin. “I don’t know if I can live with that.”
* * *