Scales: Of Justice (Broken But ... Mending Book 3)

BOOK: Scales: Of Justice (Broken But ... Mending Book 3)
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Scales

(of Justice)

by
Dale Mayer

Book in this series:

Skin

Scars

Scales (of Justice)

Table of Contents

Title Page

Back Cover

Complimentary Download

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Author’s Note

Complimentary Download

Previews

Second Chances Sample

Touched by Death Sample

About the Author

Also by Dale Mayer

Copyright Page

Back Cover

She thinks she escaped Justice

He is still waiting for Justice to happen.

She’s afraid her day of reckoning is near.

He’s afraid his day of reckoning will never arrive.

Will love balance the scales of Justice?

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Part of an elite SEAL team, Mason takes on the dangerous jobs no one else wants to do – or can do. When he’s on a mission, he’s focused and dedicated. When he’s not, he plays as hard as he fights.

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Time is running out … For her … For him … For them …

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Chapter 1

P
aris Wilson sat
with her back to the wall and waited as the room slowly filled up for the first morning seminar. They’d all briefly met the night before but the real workshop started today. Set in downtown Vancouver, at a posh but business-style hotel, she couldn’t help but feel this Inner Healing workshop could be the answer to so many problems. It had better be, especially after pleading with her professor that she was ready for this. It was a special workshop for university students under Professor Jenna Komak. And Jenna alone made the decision as to who would be allowed to attend.

Now Paris was here and couldn’t wait to get started. She had picked a perfect spot to watch the other attendees but only be seen by a few of them as they looked around. Those she could ignore.

She’d ignore everyone if she could. They were a distraction. There was a reason she was here and she was anxious to get started. Several reasons actually. When her brother, Sean, had attended the same workshop earlier this summer, he’d fallen in love with a special woman he’d met there. Robin was stunning inside and out.

Paris was seriously happy for Sean. She’d always known he’d find someone someday – even if he hadn’t believed it. Not only because he was her brother, but because he was a great man and a terrific human being.

He deserved to be happy. And that made all the difference in the world.

Brushing back her black hair, Paris knew that any of these other attendees could potentially impact her life in a similar way. In wonder, she studied the few people taking seats at the very front. She’d never been able to do that. Being front and center. It put too much attention on her. Considering how eager she was to get moving on this, she should probably consider the risks. Even though her hopes were high for the workshop, she knew she was asking a lot. She was eager. Too eager. She didn’t have rose-colored glasses with which to view the world, but she had her brother’s experience as a standard.

Dropping her gaze to her hands, her fingers picked away at the skin from the base of the nails. Ugly. Damaged. Falling to pieces. Gee funny, her outside matched her inside.

At that, she almost gave an audible snort but held it back at the last moment. It wouldn’t do to attract attention in this setting. She settled back and watched as several men took their seats. The only men she knew well had been her father and her brother. Both of them were so much alike and so opposite in all the ways that counted. Other males she met seemed to be a mix of the two. Maybe that was good. Maybe not.

She’d been interested in a few men she’d met through work, but knew they wouldn’t want her. What was to want? She was an okay size as in shorter than Sean but just a hair taller than his partner Robin. Even though she ate like a horse, she was slim, bordering on gaunt. Her brother said she was too nervy to keep any weight on. Whatever.

She had to admit to being a little on the driven Type A side, but she had a reason. After missing out on so much in life, she couldn’t help but want to do more. Be more.

Then there was the mixed-up part of her that knew she could never be enough. Never be good enough. She hadn’t ever been
that
good. And that perception impacted her actions every day.

It was stupid. She was an adult now. Surely her childhood shouldn’t be doing this to her anymore.

Except,
whispered that gentle voice inside,
you weren’t a child when it finally stopped. You were a teenager. So very vulnerable to the actions, opinions of those around you. Very impressionable at an age where you’d already been beaten into the ground. Knew there was no one out there that would save you. Already understood that the original fairy tales had the right of it, they were grim, heart-wrenching stories. Nothing like the pretty pink stories she heard other kids talk about with teddy bears and rainbows and unicorns even.

Paris knew the bogeyman was real. And she knew that there was one inside of every single person – including herself.

“Is anyone sitting here?”

The deep dark voice shook her to the core. Surprised at the swarthy young man standing beside her, she stared uncomprehendingly at him. She glanced at the direction he pointed and realized she’d been sitting in one chair and taking up a second chair with her legs, subconsciously giving people no choice but to stay away. Jenna, their professor, would have a heyday with her body language.

Paris dropped her legs and muttered, “No, it’s free.”

Nodding, he sat down, turning his back to her.

She studied him covertly. As broad as Sean was lean, he was solid looking. Farmer stock. Big hands and forearms but not the muscle-bound body builder type. Nice actually.

And there was a faint smell, not cologne, subtler than that. Aftershave or even shaving soap. With his dark coloring, she imagined he had to shave a couple of times a day. He turned and gave her a bland look.

She flushed. Damn it, he’d caught her studying him.

Back in school, she had learned that if she went into class afraid, the teacher would pick on her to do a question on the board. She always got picked. However, if she walked in and couldn’t have cared less about it, she never got picked.
How come she couldn’t apply that same trick to the world at large?
Paris wondered.

The instructor walked in at that moment. The air magically twisted, becoming lighter, airy. The underlying nervousness quickly dissipated.

Paris was here for the same thing everyone else was here for. To heal.

They all needed to move past issues that stopped them from leading the fulfilling lives they all wanted. They all wanted to move forward.

Simple. Not.

Jenna had achieved phenomenal results with her earlier seminars, but at what point did her special touch run a little thin? Paris knew if the magic was going to run out, it would run out with her. She hadn’t learned the trick of making her life happen easily. Nor of making it through life unscathed like so many people she knew. Neither did she expect much more than what she had.

But she wished…dreamed…fantasized of so much more.

Especially babies.

And there were just some things that no matter how much wishing one did, it wasn’t going to happen.

Still, the alternative would have been worse. She was here, and she was strong and healthy and alive. She was good with that. There were alternative dreams she could dream.

She smiled.

And damn if her neighbor didn’t turn and looked at her suspiciously.

It was her turn to give him a bland stare.

He cocked one eyebrow, a glint of amusement in his gaze before he shifted back in his chair and turned his attention to the front of the room.

Only she caught sight of a muscle in his jaw twitching in a steady pulsating manner.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to focus on Jenna’s words. That’s why she was here. Her eyes popped open. Yet at the same time her neighbor, in the chair next to her, was starting to drive her nuts. She wanted to slap a hand over that muscle and make it stop.

Just part of her stress management techniques she had to work on. Fix what she could fix and ignore what she couldn’t. So how was she doing on that second half? Lousy.

Jenna held up a stack of folders. “Good morning, everyone.”

A murmured response rippled through the room.

“I’m glad to see you’ve all settled in, we’ll work first on getting you divvied up into pairs and then hand out the assignments. Until I call your name, remember I mentioned homework last night? Well this…” She held up a stack of papers to the groans of those around her, “Won’t be homework if you get it all done now.”

And with that, she dropped the stack at the front desk and said, “Take one and pass them around.”

Paris watched as the stack moved from one person to the other. She’d be last. Maybe that was okay too.

Jenna called two people’s names and moved the couple to the back of the room where three chairs sat in a cozy arrangement in the corner. Paris kept half an eye on their reactions but as there were lots of smiles and nods, she figured the first couple wasn’t unhappy with their assignment. A few moments later, the couple returned and Jenna called out two more names and asked the attendees to join her at the back.

BOOK: Scales: Of Justice (Broken But ... Mending Book 3)
11.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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