Deploy (11 page)

“I’m sure they do, but that is not the point. The point is you
didn’t
tell them. And you pushed my loyalty button so I couldn’t and now here we are. All you gotta do is say it, they will give you shit but it’s not like they’re going to stop you.”

“Maybe not, then again maybe somebody might be too convincing about how it would be best for me to stick around, help out this summer, then summer will turn into fall. Shall I go on?” he asked, with a lazy slant of his head to the side.

Declan shook his head and leaned into the door.

“Relax, I wrote a letter. Before you come back through they will be over it.”

“A what?”

“A letter, pen and paper. I know it’s old school, but when I want them to read it I will be nowhere near a plug. I told them why I did it and how I swore you to keep my secret.” Nolan glanced at Declan. “They know you well enough to know you didn’t have much of a choice.”

“If you ain’t gotta plug you’re not going to have a mailbox either,” Declan said, pointing out that he thought it was cowardly for Nolan to not look his dad in the eye, or their grandparents. A phone call would have still been cowardly but at least he would’ve heard the emotion in their voice. A letter? The sentiment was nice, but still. It wasn’t how the Rawlings’ clan rolled.

Nolan had been plotting this deal for years, making plans every time he met someone on a retreat, saving money, mapping out his path which meant for years he plotted to lie to the people he loved the most, and a letter was his solution.

Declan reached in his back pocket and pulled out the mail that came for Nolan that day—that Declan barely hid from their dad. “You’re not going to get very far without this,” he said, tossing it at Nolan. “That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about—you gotta think ten steps ahead, always, especially if you’re on your own. You can’t do this shit where you get all gooey eyed about where you are or what you’re doing and just lose track of time and space.”

Nolan glanced down at the letter, knowing it was his passport. He reached and put it behind his visor. “I had a fake one ready to go, boss. Just because I believe in free love does not mean I have no fucking survival sense—I
am
a Rawlings.”

“Not according to your fake IDs that would have gotten you arrested if you tried to use them at the border,” Declan spat back.

Nolan only had a few fake IDs that he used when he was out of town, and having his wrong name on them was done so he had a prayer he could talk his way out of trouble before they called his father.

The one he’d made to cross the border was his most convincing one, and the closest to this name—he’d paid good money for that joker.

Before Declan could continue his rant, a truck flashed its high beams just behind them. And then there was a loud ‘thump’ followed by another, then another, and then something flew in through the back window that was only open a foot or so, and hit the gearshift.

Nolan hit the brakes and then spun the truck right as Declan figured out it was baseballs being thrown at them.

“Fucking Murdock!” Declan raged.

“Naw, it’s Faith’s boy. Murdock is just along for the ride.”

“What the fuck ever,” Declan said as Nolan successfully blocked the one lane country road causing the truck behind them to skid to the side, barely missing Nolan’s truck.

The dead of night was illuminated by crisscrossed headlights from the two massive trucks.

With a murderous scowl Declan flew from the truck with Nolan right on his heels. Both the driver, Jacks—Faith’s on again off again boyfriend—and Murdock were drunk and laughing their asses off.

Jacks raised his hands. “Just fucking with you man. I thought Faith was with you, she wanted me to act jealous, so there.”

“So you fucking hit my truck?” Nolan said with a snarl that was still trying to size up this deal. Faith was a girl Nolan had spent some time with in the past, not much, but enough. It ended wickedly.

Declan charged toward the passenger side and ripped Murdock out then threw a punch right at his chest, with the ball in his hand, dropping it as he did so. Declan was inch from Murdock’s face when he said, “You dropped this,
fucker
!”

Murdock bent forward with the blow as Jacks and Nolan charged around the truck, trying to stop the fight before it got out of hand and someone really got hurt.

“Hey, hey, now boys, we’ve just had our drink on too long, let’s not get all crazy!” Jacks yelled.

Murdock grew a pair and slugged Declan who managed to catch his fist, then in a beat he hit him in the jaw, flinging him down to the ground. Declan pulled him up again and slammed him against the front of the truck.

Nolan held Jacks back. He didn’t plan to let Declan go too far, for obvious reasons, but he knew stopping him now was more than dangerous. Declan had a vendetta.

“You’re out here fucking throwing balls,” Declan growled, picking him up and slamming him against the truck again. “Drunk off your ass.” He leaned in. “Is it easy for you and your daddy? You just look the other fucking way and go and have a good time?”

“Fuck you,” Murdock spat, knowing
exactly
what Declan was talking about, but the way he saw it was Brent Rose had a mean mouth on him but that was about it.

Did he drink? Yeah.

Did he lose his balance and knock into people? Sure.

Had Murdock ever seen him hit Justice? No.

Was it his business? No.

Murdock pushed back. “She fucking cry on your shoulder? Tell you her daddy was mean?” He sneered. “She was just yanking your dick man, wanting to get a piece of you before you were a jarhead and shit.”

Declan’s hard stare raced over Murdock. Murdock was actually smiling, even as blood drizzled from his lip.

In the background he could hear Nolan putting Jacks in the truck, Jacks yelling for Murdock to come on.

“Did you get a piece?” Murdock asked, licking the blood on his lip. “It’s sweet ain’t it?” He nodded his head toward him. “Have fun jacking off while I’m hitting that every time I fucking feel like it.”

Declan reared back to hit him again but Nolan caught his arm. “He’s too shit faced to feel it or know what he’s sayin’.’’

“You fucking making excuses for this worthless pile of shit?” Declan yelled.

“No. I’m telling you his daddy is a Sheriff. That you don’t want him making calls on your behalf, not where you’re going tomorrow—if we even get there. He can’t even fight back, one more punch and he’s going to be in the ER and you’re going to get locked up for assault.”

When Declan only kept his venomous stare on Murdock, Nolan kept on; he knew once you got Declan to listen to you, you just had to keep talking, keep giving him common sense. “When you show ‘em who’s boss you want him to remember it and you want to walk away clean, you know you do.” Nolan pushed him further back. “And you know he’s lying about Justice,” Nolan said in a lower tone.

Declan’s stare flew to Nolan’s, wondering how
he
knew.

“Let’s go,” Nolan said, ushering Declan to the truck and leaving Jacks and Murdock in the middle of the road.

At home Chasen Rawlings did his best to figure out why his boys were strung tight, and failed. Neither one of them were quick to say anything, meaning whatever it was—it was more than just a tiff. The rest of the night was spent with all of them staring at the crawling clock and barely sleeping.

Just before dawn, Declan got up for his workout. This time it was his dad who put him through it.

“Whose ass did you kick last night?” Chasen asked as Declan leaned forward panting for breath.

Declan shook his head, not denying it but not wanting to talk about it.

“It was about the Rose girl, right?”

It sure as hell turned into something about Justice. All night, every second in his head Declan kept hearing Murdock say he was going to be hitting it and the word
wrath
did not even come close to what Declan felt.

“I already told you once, son.”

Declan stood up straight. “I haven’t seen her since that night.”

“And you’re not going to see her for months to come.”

Declan shook his head and cussed under his breath. “She’s getting knocked around, Dad.”

Dad. Not daddy, not pops, which told Chasen his son was absolutely serious. “By Murdock?”

Declan shook his head. “He sure as hell knows how to look the other way, though.”

“So does his daddy,” Chasen said with a raised brow.

“I told Atticus to tell you if he saw something, but she won’t say either way. She’s too tough for her own good.”

“You listen to me,” Chasen said, getting in his face. “I don’t know what she told you, but you forget it.”

Declan jarred back and Chasen caught his arms and got in Declan’s face again. “Right now you forget it.”

“I wasn’t raised that way,” Declan spat.

Chasen jerked him back, and then got in his face again. “And you think the man who raised you, or your brothers, is going to let something like this go unchecked?”

Declan felt his entire body relax but then regret slammed into him. If Justice knew he had told anyone about her personal stuff, stuff everyone assumed but didn’t know for sure, she’d kick his ass.

“She can’t know.”

Chasen shook his head. “No one is going to cause any trouble.” He cursed. “Sometimes things like this go away with time.”

“A year before she’s eighteen, Dad. A day is too long.”

Chasen nodded. “You forget,” he said again. “And if you don’t. If you don’t trust us, I’ll take it as a direct insult and disappointment.”

All of Chasen’s boys would rather him beat them senseless than hear him say he was
disappointed
in them.

Declan nodded stiffly.

“Shower up, recruit.”

And he did.

By the time the sun was rising, turning the horizon into that dusky gray, him and Nolan were side by side in Declan’s truck driving toward town.

“Pull over up here,” Nolan said causally, right before they were passing the last gas station in town. 

Declan did so without thought. He was in his own world, trying to do what his dad told him to do—forget it, trust his family to look out for Justice. Justice was the kind of girl who needed someone to stand up with her, not for her. He knew is his family could do that.

If the Rawlings’ knew how to do anything, it was to draw out the bravery in who they were with. They helped them see that sometimes, even if it sucked, ripped you to pieces, you needed to stand and fight for what matters. And sometimes what matters is nothing more than self-respect, fighting for the peace you deserve.

Nolan pointed for him to go into the side parking lot.

“What’s up?” Declan asked.

“Hungry. Be right back,” he said, bailing out the door before he even finished his words. A beat later her was jogging across the street to the diner.

Declan raised his hands in a pissed, confused gesture, then slammed them down on the steering wheel.

A few seconds later, he saw her...

I
n the dawn of the morning sun, Justice was sitting on the top of a picnic table set up behind the gas station, quietly reading a book.

Today she wasn’t in a summer dress; she was wearing well-worn blue jeans, a dark top, and an apron she had folded down.

Her braid, the method she used to tame her wild curls, was tighter than he had ever seen it, then again, he’d never really seen her quite so early in the morning.

She wasn’t looking his way, and there wasn’t a soul near her. What cars were out and about were the way Nolan went, grabbing breakfast before a long day.

Declan hesitated. He could feel two parts of him ripping. One saying let it go for now, and the other begging for just one more look in her eyes.

The latter side won as he slung his door open. At first, he all but marched toward her, marked irritation in every move of his body. Like he was mad she was there and she
made
him feel again. Then he realized he was mad for that very reason and stopped abruptly.

He glanced over his shoulder in the direction his brother went knowing right then, more than ever, Nolan was right. This wasn’t right for anyone right now.

Still, Declan wanted one more look. Aware of himself he walked forward. She didn’t look up until he was right up on her and when she did she jarred back and grasped her chest, barely stifling a scream. Then with a shaky smile she pulled her headphones out.

“You scared me.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked in the clipped tone he was known to use.

“Um,” she stalled, glancing around the parking lot. “Are you alone?”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“No reason, ju—just curious is all,” she said as the flush rose color he adored so much eased over her soft skin.

“Why are you here?” he asked again, as if she’d walked into his house, into his space.

She nodded across the way. “I work there.”

He knew that. But the diner was across the street and up a building or two. It made no sense for her to be behind a gas station that backed up to a low-rent neighborhood that had its fair share of trouble. He didn’t care that it was dawn, in a town they both grew up in, shit happens. And the last thing this girl needed was more drama.

“Why back here?” he asked, glaring in the distance. He was almost sure he saw Jacks’ truck parked in a ditch a block away. All kinds of horrid thoughts were running through Declan’s head—him thinking after their riff last night Murdock decided to see where he could get with Justice. Anything was possible.

“I was meeting somebody before I went in for my shift.”

“Meeting someone?” he repeated sharply, noticing how she wouldn’t meet his eyes when she said it which made his head go wild. For all he knew she was a pro at sneaking around and had some non-daddy approved boy meeting her when he could on the sly. “
Who
?”

“I thought you left,” she said, failing to hide both the sorrow and excitement in her tone, and ignoring his question.

“Am now,” he nodded toward her. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she said, glancing away.

“I tried calling you,” he said abruptly. He’d even tried last night when he got home, letting it ring twice before he hung up.