Hard Justice. Lori FosterЧитать онлайн книгу.
something I would’ve missed.” The man had shouted it at him in a rage.
“I hired you back only because Fallon insisted.”
What was he supposed to say about that? No way would he thank him, so instead he settled on a simple, “Okay.” He didn’t want things to be more awkward than necessary, but hell if he’d grovel.
“I wouldn’t have,” Mr. Wade stated, “but she threatened to hire you herself. With her own money.”
Fallon had enough of her own? Justice wasn’t sure. Nothing in the research revealed her finances, and it didn’t feel like an appropriate question to ask. Feeling his way, he said, “I gather you don’t want her to do that?”
“No, I don’t.” Showing his frustration, Mr. Wade ran a hand through his hair, disrupting the meticulous style. “But Fallon is independent.”
Justice almost choked on that. He banked the skepticism when Mr. Wade glared at him.
“You don’t understand,” Mr. Wade continued. “I would love to indulge her, but other than agreeing to live at home, she rarely lets me. Even for holidays—her birthday, Christmas—she complains if we give her too many gifts. She buys casual department store clothes, drives an economy car—”
“So far,” Justice said, “I don’t see a problem.” He kind of liked the idea that Fallon was so low-key. Made it easier for him to relate to her.
“I was remiss in explaining things to you.” Locking his hands behind his back, Mr. Wade paced. “Fallon received a sizable trust fund from my parents. If she chose to, she could live a very comfortable, independent life off that. However, she almost never touches the money. For the most part, she makes do with her limited salary.”
“So it’s because of this big inheritance that you wanted her protected?”
“Not entirely, no.” Mr. Wade looked off down the drive, visibly gathering his thoughts.
Justice waited for him to explain the threat.
Instead, he said, “I didn’t want Fallon to finally spend the money...only to spite me.”
Damn, how big of a spat had they had? Justice found himself in the awkward position of feeling bad for Mr. Wade. “Yeah, okay, I get that.” He cleared his throat, searching for words to smooth things over. “Look, I don’t want to be a bone of contention between father and daughter. If there are strict rules here, just let me know and I’ll do my best. But if I can speak up?”
A touch of desperation held her father stiff. “By all means.”
“Well...” Justice rubbed the back of his neck, completely out of his comfort zone. Hell, as a fighter, he’d hooked up with plenty of girls and never, not once, had he been forced through a heart-to-heart with a father. “Fallon’s not a kid, right? The things she gets excited over, like drinking a beer? That’s stuff she should’ve done years ago. Seems to me she’s just spreading her wings a little, playing catch-up with other people her age. Why not let her? So she got a little drunk. You were mid-twenties once, right?”
After a moment, the slightest of smiles tweaked Mr. Wade’s mouth. “Yes.”
Somehow Justice couldn’t see the staid man before him ever cutting loose, but whatever. “No harm was done. And that fight she mentioned wasn’t much of a fight at all.”
“She said the two of you were accosted by three men.”
Bearing his own frustration, Justice propped his hands on his hips. “Yeah, but they were just bozos. I handled it, and I’ll handle anything else that comes up.” He threw caution to the wind and clapped a hand to the man’s shoulder. “Let her cut loose in the way she wants—with me keeping her safe. You’ll worry, sure. I get that dads do that.”
Brows lifted, Mr. Wade looked first at the hand on his shoulder, then at Justice directly. “Your own father. Does he worry?”
“He passed when I was young. But my mom? That woman could worry paint off the wall.” He grinned, gave the smaller man two strong shoulder slaps that left him staggering, then dropped his hand. “Thing is, Mom trusts me. I’m thinking you need to trust Fallon some, too.”
“I do.”
“Then how about trusting me? I come with good credentials.” Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Justice moved on to more important matters. “So about this Marcus character...”
That soured the man’s mood even more. “They used to date.”
Yeah, he’d figured that much on his own. “Didn’t work out?”
After only a second or two of hesitation, Mr. Wade confided in him. “Marcus hurt her. I’m not sure how but they ended their relationship and she hasn’t dated since.”
Justice went rigid. “What do you mean, he hurt her?”
“Her feelings. He said or did something.” In a low voice, Mr. Wade murmured, “Bastard.”
Well, what do you know? He and Mr. Wade were finding common ground after all. “Did she date much before that?”
“Not since high school.”
Which meant she hadn’t dated in college? Why the hell not? “So when did she and Marcus meet?” To keep from sounding too personally interested, Justice said, “It helps if I know what’s what, in case he shows up again.”
“If he does, it won’t go well for him. I meant it when I said I’d fire him.”
“What did he do for you?”
Mr. Wade waved a hand. “Management position, created for him—which means he’d be easy to replace.”
Hmm. “You think Fallon would be okay with that? I mean, I got the impression she wanted to handle it herself, not with your influence.”
His shoulders dropped. “True.” After a huff, he added, “And Rebecca is fond of him.”
Fallon’s mom? “So maybe you need to be just a little more subtle in how you scare him off.”
Mr. Wade scrutinized him. “You?”
Why not? After all, his job was to protect her. “I can easily handle it, and since you’re paying me...” Justice left that open-ended, and then waited.
“Keep him away from her,” Mr. Wade instructed, “and I just might consider you valuable after all.”
“I’ll see to it.” With pleasure. What had the prick done to turn her against him? Hands in his pockets, Justice asked, “You wanna give me any details?”
Mr. Wade grumbled to himself a moment, something about a wasted promotion, then explained, “They were together for about four months and she seemed so happy. Fallon is private, so I don’t know what Marcus did to screw it up, but it ended about six weeks ago.”
Stalling the million and one questions Justice had, Fallon opened the door—and drew up short when she saw the two men in close conversation.
Suspicion lifted her brows, then animosity lowered them. In a chilling tone of warning, Fallon asked, “Dad?”
JUSTICE SAID, “UM...”
Hell, he felt like he’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. In truth, Fallon had probably saved him because he’d been close to asking questions that had nothing to do with the job, and had everything to do with the odd protectiveness he felt toward Fallon as a woman.
It went beyond work ethic and nudged into...territorial.
Assignment, assignment, assignment. He’d remind himself as many times as necessary.