If so, that went double for him.
He didn’t have a drinking problem, unless you considered knocking back a few to fall asleep an issue, which it wasn’t. How else would he escape his thoughts long enough to get a few hours of shut-eye?
As for his daytime drinking, he always waited until after work. Who didn’t want a few beers while watching the game? Harmless. Normal.
A twelve-pack a night isn’t normal, a voice inside him piped up.
He shook off the nagging thought. He didn’t go through that amount every day, mostly just on weekends, which lately also extended to Fridays...and Mondays... Because who could face Mondays sober? But still, he was not an addict.
That’d been Jesse’s label.
Not his.
Plus, Jesse had attended plenty of those kumbaya programs and they’d never done a darn thing except dash his mother’s fragile hopes. Justin glanced over at a stone-faced Brielle. She didn’t look like the type to sing folk songs and shake a tambourine. In fact, her militant bearing suggested she’d carry a gun easier. Interesting. He’d never met a woman who’d served in a war before.
And he wouldn’t meet her now, he vowed, no matter how much she intrigued him.
“Your Honor,” Justin said quickly, “I don’t need time to deliberate. I’d like to—”
“Consult with his attorney,” interrupted Mr. Sloan. He tapped his pencil on a piece of paper with the writing: Don’t act rashly.
Rash?
It was practically Justin’s credo. Better to act than think too hard, since thoughts cut deeper, bruised harder and never healed the way physical injuries did. He couldn’t imagine a worse place than a rehab program that’d force him to think too hard and feel too much.
“But I—” Justin began.
“Appreciate your generous offer,” Mr. Sloan cut in again. “My client will give this the serious consideration it deserves.”
He slid another sheet at Justin, the words Think of your mother scrawled on it.
Justin gritted his teeth. He was thinking of his family. By going to jail, they’d be free to lead their happy lives without him spoiling it. Behind bars, he couldn’t get into much trouble. No more barn brawl matchups, dirt bike races or the other kinds of hell-raising that gave his mother palpitations.
He swung around and met his ma’s watering eyes. James jabbed a finger at him while Jared’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. Jewel tapped her teeth with her nail, eyeing him the way she sized up runaway heifers. He bet she’d like to truss him up right now.
They didn’t know how much happier they’d be without him. His gaze drifted to Sofia. She smoothed a hand over her belly and shot him an encouraging smile.
“I appreciate your advocacy for your client, Mr. Sloan,” Judge James said. “However, I’d like to hear from Mr. Cade.”
Ma clasped her hands together and mouthed “please” while James’s eyes said something less polite and a lot more threatening. Big brother asserting himself. Justin bristled. Clearly, they wanted him to wait on a decision. He let out a breath and unclenched his hands. Fine. He hated delaying the inevitable, but if they needed more time to adjust to the idea of him going to jail, then so be it.
“I’ll give my answer at next week’s hearing.”
His mother’s relieved sigh made him gulp hard. She’d cried too many tears over Jesse to have him add to the count. The sooner he disappeared, the better. Eventually they could move on like they had after Jesse died.
“Before you’re dismissed, I also encourage you to express your gratitude to Ms. Thompson. She prevented you from going into shock while awaiting EMTs, a move that might have saved your life.”
Justin’s back teeth ground together. No. He was not grateful to Brielle Thompson for saving his sorry excuse for a life. In fact, he wished she’d run him over flat. Then this would all be over. The pain gone.
Judge James waited a minute then banged her gavel. “This court is adjourned and will reconvene next week. Dismissed.”
A moment later, Justin stood outside with his family, blinking against the strong afternoon sun. His head throbbed and his bruised muscles ached. He needed a drink.
“So,” drawled their local sheriff, Travis Loveland, his smug smile practically begging to be smacked off. “You and me. Looks like we’ll be spending lots of time together for the next six months.”
Justin’s hands clenched at his sides.
Six months shut up with a Loveland? His family’s neighbors and rivals? Misery. His family had feuded with the condescending Lovelands for over a century. While they’d fooled the community with their constant volunteering, the Cades knew the Lovelands for who they were: kidnappers, murderers and jewel thieves...and those were just the actions which had started the feud. It continued to this day with water access disputes and missing cattle.
Not to mention their cash-strapped patriarch, Boyd Loveland, now courted Justin’s ma for reasons that had more to do with her bank account than her heart. Least that’s how he and Jewel saw it. James and Jared’s improved love lives seemed to have softened them some on the relationship.
“He’s not going to jail,” Jack insisted. He worked as a deputy sheriff in Denver where his wife, Dani, managed a dude ranch.
Jack should have stayed home. Justin didn’t need him, or anyone else, sticking his nose in his private business.
“Can’t say I’m excited at the prospect of a Cade being underfoot...” Travis drawled, tipping up his hat and squinting the famous Loveland blue eyes that made the ladies swoon. Justin couldn’t see what was so special about them. “But behind bars...that might make you a mite more palatable. Enjoyable even.”
He couldn’t spend six minutes alone with a low-down Loveland, let alone six months. Fury blasted Justin off his feet at arrogant Travis. Officer or not, he’d rip his darn head off. Arms grabbed Justin around the waist, checking his momentum.
“Hey!”
“Watch him!”
“Quit it, Justin!”
His siblings hollered, holding him fast as he thrashed and flailed.
“Time for you to move along now,” James spat, glaring at Travis.
Travis only hooked his thumbs in his uniform pants and looked, if anything, even calmer. Travis’s siblings, Maverick, Heath and Cole, lined up behind him, mountain tall like all Lovelands, their shadows long. While the Cades were hotheaded and passionate, the Lovelands barely had pulses, their cool, superior approach infuriating.
“You have no jurisdiction here, Cade,” Travis told Jack easily, with just a hint of menace.
Ma and Boyd Loveland stepped between their bristling offspring.
“Boys, home!” Boyd barked. He was as tall and lean as his sons, his shoulders unbowed by age. The grooves around his mouth spoke of hours in the saddle, the line between his brows suggesting long nights after, worrying. Rumor had it the local bank had initiated foreclosure proceedings on the Loveland ranch. Without easy access to the Crystal River, they had to drive their cattle miles out of the way to water, stressing and depleting their herds.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Justin’s mother hissed while smiling and nodding at the rubberneckers passing by on their way to the parking lot.
“See you in jail, Cade.” Travis pointed at Justin then guffawed with his brothers as they headed to the parking lot.
“Sorry about