own decisions and has supported me throughout them."
God, how Justice would love to have that freedom in his own life. "I wish I had a father like that."
Ashton cocked a dark brow. "My father is the suspect in no less than three murders and one of my earliest memories is of him beating one of this lackeys. Plus, I can't go anywhere without having to worry about the local police harassing me, just because I'm his son."
Justice flushed, horrified over his thoughtlessness. "I'm sorry. There I go, putting my size ten shoe in my mouth."
With a tender smile, Ashton reached over the table and lightly ran his finger over Justice's injured lip. "Don't worry about it. Even with all that, something tells me that maybe I do have the better of two evils."
"I just have a really bad habit of letting my own down too much. It tends to make him angry," Justice replied.
Even with all the beatings and harsh treatment, he still felt the need to come to his father's defense. A habit he carried from childhood, Justice felt hard pressed to break it. Sure, the asshole may be a jerk, but wasn't family supposed to stick together?
"Is your mother still in the picture?" Ashton asked.
A pang of sadness stabbed Justice. "No, she died when I was ten. It was a car accident. She was coming home from work one night and a drunk driver crossed over into her lane."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"That's okay. It was a long time ago and they say she went quick," Justice replied with forced indifference.
The food arrived. Justice stared down at the plate of hot, gooey lasagna as he gathered his emotions together. Just thinking about his mother set him on edge. Even after all the passing years, he didn't know if he hated her for dying and leaving him alone to face his father and Craig. That left Justice with a heavy dose of self-hatred. After all, what kind of jerk hates their mother for being dead? That was just all kinds of twisted.
"I've seen pictures of your mother in the paper. She looks really pretty," Justice said to change the subject.
A fond grin crossed Ashton's lips. "She's great. I wish you could meet her. She would really love you."
"Given my last name, somehow I doubt that."
"She wouldn't judge you because of who your family is."
Justice picked up his fork as he tried hard to believe that. "How about your father? Would he be so understanding?"
Ashton wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. "Probably not. He really doesn't like the DA."
"Yeah, my dad feels the same way about your father," Justice admitted.
"Maybe they should try couples counseling or something?"
Justice laughed, some of the tension leaving his body as he pictured the image of his ultra-conservative father lying on a red, leather couch and pouring his heart out to some therapist.
"Somehow I don't think that would work for them."
"You're probably right. My dad has never been one of those get in touch with your feelings types. He's more of a do as I say or else ," Ashton agreed.
Working purely on instinct, Justice's hand came up to touch his lip. "Yeah, mine, too."
They ate, the silence broken up by small bouts of unimportant conversation. When they finished Ashton stood. When Justice did likewise, Ashton reached out and pulled Justice into his arms.
Justice didn't fight it. If anything he melted into the embrace, his head coming to rest on Ashton's shoulder. For the first time in years, Justice felt warm and protected. Most of all he felt totally at ease, as nearly all his worries seemed to drift away.
Justice finally confessed his biggest doubt. "I don't get what you see in me."
Ashton put his arms down and pulled back before he tucked a couple of fingers under Justice's chin, nudging his head up, so their lips were inches apart. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."
Justice gaped at him, shocked to hear those self-deprecating words coming from somebody as near perfect as Ashton. "Just so you know, I'm the one who's way out of his league here. In
God, how Justice would love to have that freedom in his own life. "I wish I had a father like that."
Ashton cocked a dark brow. "My father is the suspect in no less than three murders and one of my earliest memories is of him beating one of this lackeys. Plus, I can't go anywhere without having to worry about the local police harassing me, just because I'm his son."
Justice flushed, horrified over his thoughtlessness. "I'm sorry. There I go, putting my size ten shoe in my mouth."
With a tender smile, Ashton reached over the table and lightly ran his finger over Justice's injured lip. "Don't worry about it. Even with all that, something tells me that maybe I do have the better of two evils."
"I just have a really bad habit of letting my own down too much. It tends to make him angry," Justice replied.
Even with all the beatings and harsh treatment, he still felt the need to come to his father's defense. A habit he carried from childhood, Justice felt hard pressed to break it. Sure, the asshole may be a jerk, but wasn't family supposed to stick together?
"Is your mother still in the picture?" Ashton asked.
A pang of sadness stabbed Justice. "No, she died when I was ten. It was a car accident. She was coming home from work one night and a drunk driver crossed over into her lane."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
"That's okay. It was a long time ago and they say she went quick," Justice replied with forced indifference.
The food arrived. Justice stared down at the plate of hot, gooey lasagna as he gathered his emotions together. Just thinking about his mother set him on edge. Even after all the passing years, he didn't know if he hated her for dying and leaving him alone to face his father and Craig. That left Justice with a heavy dose of self-hatred. After all, what kind of jerk hates their mother for being dead? That was just all kinds of twisted.
"I've seen pictures of your mother in the paper. She looks really pretty," Justice said to change the subject.
A fond grin crossed Ashton's lips. "She's great. I wish you could meet her. She would really love you."
"Given my last name, somehow I doubt that."
"She wouldn't judge you because of who your family is."
Justice picked up his fork as he tried hard to believe that. "How about your father? Would he be so understanding?"
Ashton wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. "Probably not. He really doesn't like the DA."
"Yeah, my dad feels the same way about your father," Justice admitted.
"Maybe they should try couples counseling or something?"
Justice laughed, some of the tension leaving his body as he pictured the image of his ultra-conservative father lying on a red, leather couch and pouring his heart out to some therapist.
"Somehow I don't think that would work for them."
"You're probably right. My dad has never been one of those get in touch with your feelings types. He's more of a do as I say or else ," Ashton agreed.
Working purely on instinct, Justice's hand came up to touch his lip. "Yeah, mine, too."
They ate, the silence broken up by small bouts of unimportant conversation. When they finished Ashton stood. When Justice did likewise, Ashton reached out and pulled Justice into his arms.
Justice didn't fight it. If anything he melted into the embrace, his head coming to rest on Ashton's shoulder. For the first time in years, Justice felt warm and protected. Most of all he felt totally at ease, as nearly all his worries seemed to drift away.
Justice finally confessed his biggest doubt. "I don't get what you see in me."
Ashton put his arms down and pulled back before he tucked a couple of fingers under Justice's chin, nudging his head up, so their lips were inches apart. "Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you."
Justice gaped at him, shocked to hear those self-deprecating words coming from somebody as near perfect as Ashton. "Just so you know, I'm the one who's way out of his league here. In
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