6. 🍸 Something Blue

**KEKE**

His chair lands hard on the concrete floor and the loud thump echoes in the quiet room.
Justice’s eyes, an unusual turquoise color, narrow in barely-concealed anger. His voice turns harsh and low like gravel in a tin drum. “What did you say?”
I hold his gaze, raising a brow.
The man can get as mad as he wants.
I am doing my duty by those kids and I don’t give a damn if he approves or not. I owe it to my best friend. She would have done the same for me and a lot more.
Keeping my clenched fists hidden under the table, I lean forward and lay it all out. “I have come a long way and I am tired, so I am just going to get to the point. I want to see the boys. I want to know how they are doing and if they are okay. I—”
He cuts in quick as a flash, anger snapping behind his eyes. Every muscle, and there are a lot of defined ones on his body, tenses under tanned skin that is a smooth buttery brown. I bet in the coming weeks the color will fade into a rich glow.
Yeah, with his coloring and wild mane, he looks like a tawny haired lion getting ready to open a gazelle’s belly. I won’t be that gazelle.
“What do you mean by ‘okay’?” he says, his lips pulled into a snarl. “Do you think I’m—”
“No!” I shout, appalled at the thought. My mind hadn’t even gone towards chronophilia.
Well...not really.
I close my eyes and press my index fingers to my temples, hoping to stave off my encroaching headace. “Can we start over? This is not what I envisioned when I came to ask about them.”
Just as I sneak a peek to gauge his reaction, Justice takes a deep breath. His large chest expands under his dark-blue Henley and I nearly sigh at the beautiful sight.
“If you knew me, Keke, you would never have to ask such a question.”
How he said my name—a deep rumble with a slight purr—scrambles my brain and I lose my train of thought. And if that weren’t enough, those incredible eyes and beautiful physique are getting me all me hot and bothered, not to mention the danger I feel he can unleash on my body…
I let out a soft sigh and breathe out as if in a dream, “Then let me get to know you, Justice.”
His eyes, I swear, they get brighter.
He shutters them, tilting back in his chair once again. He looks so relaxed...so content, it is as if his earlier outburst of anger never happened.
“How do you propose to do that, Keke?” Again, with the purr that does funny things to my stomach.
But not to my heart.
That place is solid ice... except for the love I feel for kids, my brother Trey, and yes, even my parents. Justice Stone will never be on that list. No man will be.
“I am in town for a while. I would like spend time with the boys.” I flutter a hand to the view outside that has gotten considerably lighter since the rain has stopped. “Maybe take them out and do things.”
During my last conversation with Lilli, she had asked me,“Do you think you can come over and see the kids this year? They miss you. I miss you.”
When she had lived in Detroit, I came back once a year to see her and the children before flying to Oakland where I visited Trey and my parents. After my last trip, I moved to Dubai, and my life went in another direction. One my parents didn’t agree with.
And I have barely talked to them since.
Sam arrives at the table with my coffee and a sweet grin. I am thankful for the distraction. It takes my mind off the fact my parents and I are estranged.
While I stir the contents in my cup, Sam promises to return with a mug for Justice. Walking away, he throws over his shoulder, “You need a new coffeemaker, Justice. That ancient one you have is on its last legs.”
Those unique blue eyes, like the color of blue-green stones set beautifully in the gold of his skin, turn from mine to pierce Sam’s retreating back. “Pip texted me this morning. She and Xaver are getting their new one delivered today. She said she will have Alfonso bring the old one in later. I am sure you will like it because the damn thing looks like a spaceship. Should make all kinds of crap.”
The closing door doesn’t cut off Sam’s laughter.
“Who’s Pip?” I ask, cringing even as the words come out of my mouth. What do I care that he had spoken her name not as a purr, but as a lover’s caress?
Justice cocks his head, and somehow, I know an outsider like me mentioning her name brings a sneer over his full lips. “I doubt you will be staying long enough to meet her.”
His sudden change has me backtracking to make things better between us. And it scares me why I want to. “Uh… I was just asking. Does she know the boys?”
Justice doesn’t bother to answer.
An ache, filled with regret, drops like a weighted bucket into my chest.
Why do I always seem to gravitate towards big men with beautiful eyes, sexy voices?
Don’t know, but I need to snap out of it. I am here for the children and nothing and no one else.
Sam brings out his mug and Justice waits until he disappears in the back before asking rather rudely, “What I want to know is: who are you to them? Are you family? I mean, Lilli never mentioned you. At all.”
That would make sense, given her circumstances. Any links from the past were severed when she left… until Trey found her and we got back in touch right before I left overseas.
Damn, I miss her.
I take a sip of coffee and stare at the cup, giving myself time to battle my tears over my friend’s sudden death. Justice taps his foot impatiently on the floor, stopping when I say, “No, we weren’t family.”
How do I tell this guy we were the next best thing, even *better* than? My girl’s mother didn’t care too much about her kids, and it turns out, even less about her grandkids. She let Lilli raise them without a phone call or birthday card. I wouldn’t even know if the woman is alive.
As far as I know, I’m the only person in Lilli’s life who knew her from way back when.
And at the end, she had no one.
No one was there when she died in her car. No one was there to comfort her.
Not a damn soul.
The ache in my chest empties and refills with grief.
Despite the pulsing tempo of the wound in my thigh, I was glad of the long plane ride and the empty seats beside me. Without curious eyes upon me, I could cry until I couldn’t cry anymore.
Now, all I feel is a sense of loss.
And I expect to feel that way for a long time.
With a deep breath, I look up to see Justice pinning me with a cold gaze.
He doesn’t bother waiting for a detailed response. He presses, hoping to squeeze out an answer I don’t want to give. “So, if you’re not family, why are you concerned with the kids? What are they to you?”
He shakes his head, hair whipping about his collar. He looks like a hippie with his wild blonde hair, darker mustache and anchor beard.
“You know what?” he says, leaning forward. “It doesn’t matter who they are to you because they are *everything* to me. I know all about them because I have been a part of their lives since Lilli moved in down the street. On the contrary, where the hell have *you* been?”
I flounder for an answer.
*Does he know about Lilli’s past? How after that boy shot us, her mother had gotten scared and moved the family to Detroit?*
When Lilli left, I was in the hospital, my thighbone shattered where the bullet had blown it apart. The bandage was still over the flesh wound on her shoulder when she came to say goodbye. All I remember is that I had wept like a child left at daycare for the first time. When I could talk through my tears, I begged her to stay in touch.
She hadn’t. She *couldn’t*.
Years later, I learned her mother had forced Lilli to block all contact with those in her past. Her mother didn’t want the shooter’s family to seek retribution. It seemed most of them rotated in and out of the prison system like a turnstile at an amusement park.
Lilli, unlike me, listened to her mother in all things.
Maybe if I had, I wouldn’t be so prickly… so distrusting as I am now.
But that is neither here nor there.
My past wasn’t all that and a bag of chips. It would be reckless of me to lay such a heavy tale on Justice’s doorstep. After all, I just met the man.
“Well,” he says snidely. “Are you going to answer me?”
Any concern I had for his feelings disappears like dew before a blazing sun. I straighten my spine and speak in a tone I use for an unruly child. “Lilli and I were friends. We lost contact for a while. That is why I wasn’t at her funeral. But as soon as I heard she had passed, I came.” Here, I arch a brow, so he knows I mean business. “And I’m not leaving until I see them.”