Justice for None: Texas Justice Book #1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

Valentine…
    Val looked at himself in the steamed-up mirror over the bathroom sink. He tried on a grin but it just made him look more sinister. There was something in his eyes and the set of his jaw. Something cold. So many years on the job had burned the laughter right out of his face. The shotgun pellet scars didn’t help either, three faint white lines that formed a pattern of horizontal hash marks on his right cheekbone. Not disfiguring, but not pretty. They looked like war paint. Add them to the trio of gunshot wounds that crossed his midriff, the knife scar that ran from his right wrist to his elbow and the band of scar tissue that topped his left shoulder and you had the story of a career highlighted by violence. And he didn’t regret a minute of it.
    Hell, he missed it.
    With a sigh Val turned away from his reflection and stepped under the shower while the twins played on the mat outside the tub. The boys never strayed far from their father, which made his job a lot easier, but they seemed to get a thrill out of charging for the nearest stairway or light socket when Victoria was in charge. Probably because she freaked out, made diving blocks and swooping catches accompanied by screams and followed by hugs and kisses. Valentine grinned as he soaped up. It actually was kind of funny.
    Victoria was the only good thing that had come out of the Sutton brothers’ deaths, he reflected. Most women would have run in the other direction if their boyfriend was accused of murder, but she had stuck with him. She had even married him a year later while the story of Abby’s slow recovery was still news. Of course she had been pregnant at the time…
    Val climbed out of the shower and toweled off before putting on raggedy jeans, a pair of grungy old boat shoes and a white short-sleeved shirt made of raw silk. The shirt was a Christmas gift from Victoria. A little fancy for Val, but it was cool in the heat. He stopped and checked himself out in the bathroom mirror. He looked like a hobo with a really nice shirt.
    Time for another cup of coffee.
    Val put the twins down by the kitchen table, poured the last cup of coffee, which had cooked down to black sludge, and dropped into a chair. The day stretched out blandly before him. Shopping, story-time, nap time, dinner. Same old same. Only the twins made it worthwhile. He liked the fact that they spent all day with a parent, but there were days that he wished Victoria was that parent. Days like Monday through Friday. But her career energized her. Made her what she was. Besides, he was career-less. A house husband. Mr. Mom.
    He sipped the coffee. It was hot enough to fry his taste buds and it tasted like tar. He took another swallow. Yep, tar. He took one more sip to confirm once and for all that he made the worst coffee on the planet then sat there staring out the kitchen window at the street, mentally composing a shopping list.
    Pull-up diapers were at the top of the list. It was time to get the boys potty trained. He was way past tired of changing dirty diapers. Eggs, milk, bread. He was considering the toilet paper supply when a black Range Rover eased to the curb across the street from the house. The Range Rover’s 4X4 struts and shocks had been chopped, lowering the vehicle a good eighteen inches. Its all-terrain tires had been replaced with twenty-four-inch chromed-out rims and low profile tires. Val sipped his coffee and wondered why anyone would buy a fifty thousand dollar four-wheel drive just to turn it into a car? But, he had to admit, it did look pretty cool…
    The Range Rover drove on and Val turned back to the twins. He would have liked to have another cup of coffee, maybe read the paper and dawdle, but the air-conditioner in the Mustang was about shot and the temperature was supposed to top one hundred that day. It would be too hot to take the twins outside in another couple of hours.
    “Saddle ‘em up, cowboys! We got to rustle up some grub,” he said as he stood