Tuesday Tales: From the Word HARSH

It’s April! The snow has disappeared for the most part, and while the temperature is erratic, spring is definitely in the air. This week, the authors from Tuesday Tales are posting scenes based on the word HARSH. I continue with my Romance/Suspense, And Justice for All.

Today, I have a surprise for you. The book has its cover. Meet Maggie and Harry. Enjoy!

Maggie sighed. Food was the last thing she needed. She wanted to get home, crawl into bed, and bawl her eyes out. Seeing those women had brought back her trauma and so much more. The thought that there was a baby who would never know its mother’s love pierced her.

“I’m not really hungry, but coffee sounds great.”

“Let’s do Tim’s then, but you should eat something, even if it’s just a bowl of soup and a donut.”

“Fine,” she conceded, not in the mood to argue. “Soup’s good … comfort food, even on hot days like this. My mother always said that hot drinks were better than cold ones in the heat. I suppose if you overheat the inside, the outside will feel cooler.”

He chuckled. “Reverse psychology at its best.”

Harry turned into the Tim’s lot and parked the car up close to the building, limiting the distance they would have to walk outdoors in what was sure to still be blistering heat.

The rain had ended, and the sun was making a half-hearted effort to come out from behind the clouds. She’d removed her raincoat and vest earlier, not wanting to wear her sauna-suit inside the vehicle for the ninety-minute ride home. She might be sweating on the outside, but there was ice in her bones and around her heart. She reached for her jacket to cover her gun and opened the door.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

She turned back to look at him. “What? My purse? I thought you were paying.”

“Not your purse, Maggie, your vest. I told you. You need to wear it all the time now; we both do.”

“But it’s cooking out there and with the humidity…”

He shook his head. “No buts. The vest goes on each and every time you’re out in public. That’s an order.”

“What’s to stop some nut-job from just shooting me in the head?” she argued, her tone harsh despite her best effort to control it.

“Nothing, and if I could put you in full SWAT body armor, I would.”

And he probably would if he thought he could manage it. The thought was daunting.

“Well, if he’s using armor piercing bullets, nothing’s going to help.”

She grabbed her vest and pulled it on. She was just being bitchy, and she knew it. She stepped out of the car and into what had to be 90 percent humidity. The air pressed down on her.

Don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales.