Deploy (12 page)

She blushed deeper. “Yeah, it’s been crazy. You know, community clean up stuff.” Basically, she meant she had made sure she had stayed in a crowd since she saw him last. Every time Declan had called, she was either with her dad or Murdock. One time, even the Sheriff.

This morning when she saw his number she assumed by the time it was an accidental call, that or one made as he was leaving town.

“I called you back, a few times.” This morning she had listened to his out going message on his voice mail a time or two, the sound of his voice...

Declan furrowed his brow. The only time he didn’t have his phone was when he was asleep or working out. The idea that anyone had jacked with his phone pissed him off.

He had rehearsed exactly what he was going to say to her. He was going to tell her, in essence, what he kept hearing, all about the timing. He was going to pull the friend card, ‘fun while it lasted, I’ll have your back if it gets crazy.’

It was cowardly, but he knew he could say it on the phone and not change his course, so when he figured he wasn’t getting a second alone with her, he was almost good with it, even though he craved her like a dying man wanting one more breath just to feel it ease through his lungs.

Saying his rehearsed speech as coldly as he planned, point blank, was not possible when looking at her. It was a battle he had no hope of winning from the gate.

“I didn’t see it,” he said, not even bothering to check his phone. No, he wasn’t going to waste one second that could be spent soaking in the sight of her.

She nodded toward the highway. “So this is it, your day.”

Declan didn’t smile. “Listen to me,” he said sharply. He clenched his jaw before he spoke, then lifted both his brows. “You deploy any and all defense you need when you need it. Don’t question if it’s right or wrong. Don’t doubt your strength or your worth. No one lays a hand on you. You hear me?”

Justice swallowed nervously as fire bloomed in her belly. In a small way she felt more humiliated than empowered after hearing his words. She’d shown him her wounds, something she never pointed out to anyone, and now he would always see those marks when he looked at her, when he thought of her.

No one had ever told her to defend herself. Her mother ran, and her grandparents prayed and told her a brighter day was coming. This was new, empowering, and she didn’t know how to process it so she simply nodded ever so slightly.

“Can I write you?” he asked abruptly.

Justice arched a brow in shock. She was starting to think she was still dreaming.

“You don’t have to write back, but yeah,” he said.

She nodded warily, knowing all this was going to do was stretch out this agony she was sick with.

Since she’d left his side, it felt like she was walking in a cloud of grief. A heavy feeling that drew out disdain she didn’t even know she had. Everything pushed her. She’d felt this feeling twice over and
hated
it, but the gift of the past was that it taught her what to expect today.

She could either choose to tell him no and slowly swim her way through her emotions back to reality, or she could live with the pain longer.

Declan Rawlings was worth the pain.

Her gut told her as much even though her mind and heart claimed she was a fool.

A ghost of a smile graced her lips as she nodded, then marveled at him when she saw him relax as if he had been holding his breath.

“Um,” she said, reaching for her bag and digging around. “Send it here,” she said writing down an address. “This is where my mom sends stuff.”

“Your mom?” he questioned. He had heard things about her, but not much past the part where she ditched her daughter and left her grandparents to fight for her safety.

Justice nodded like it was nothing, like she just didn’t tell him a secret he doubted many knew.

Still holding her stare, he took the paper carefully, purposely brushing against her hand before he glided it in his pocket.

Her gaze darted around the parking lot the first chance she had.

“Either you’re nervous or you’re looking for somebody.”

Both. “I didn’t want to be late.”

He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

She slid down when he went to step back, and shakily put her hand on his chest to stop him from walking away. “I knew seeing you would be hard, but if I had the chance I wanted it. Thanks for saying hi.”

Declan bit his lip trying to keep his pissed smirk as he glanced away. “Hi. Yeah, that makes sense.” He met her gaze sharply. “I should have at least said that much, huh.”

He was sure they had some kind of connection, a moment, and there she was with her thanks speech turning it into a casual fuck. This was why he didn’t trust women, why he got what he wanted and left. No promises. No strings.

“Did anything happen the other night? Did you get heat for being with me?” he asked, glancing over her, looking for damage.

“Avoided the topic,” she said honestly.

“I didn’t want it to end that fast,” Declan quietly admitted.

She could only stare because she had no idea how to take him. His words were sweet but his tone was anything but.

In the next beat he was an inch from her face, the heat of his body was a breath from hers and she was sure she could feel a sharp current between them pulling them together with the weight of gravity.

“I hate this,” he breathed. His head tilted slightly so his gaze could slip down her neck to those dark blonde curls kissing her skin. “We’re bad,” he leaned in bit more, now his lips were brushing against her cheekbone. “Bad timing.”

She didn’t really hear a damn word he said, she was too focused on how close he was, the feel of his breath, then all at once she couldn’t deal any longer and turned sharply, catching the edge of her lips with the edge of his. In the same beat both his hands were on her face as he moved his lips just right, so he could devour the taste of her.

It was brief and short but strong and deep enough that Justice was sure she had been given the adrenaline rush of her life.

This kiss was a risk, out here in the open, just as the town was waking. There was no telling who could be out, glancing in their direction, or whose side of the Stouter and Rawlings’ feud their loyalties would rest.

Declan dropped his hands as his kiss left but he didn’t move back at first. “I’ll write.”

She nodded shakily and before she knew it he was gone from before her and across the lot, squealing his tires as he made it across the street to the diner.

There, Nolan climbed into the passenger seat, waving in her direction. Completely confused she watched them drive away then pulled her pre-paid phone out and check for a missed call from Nolan.

Nolan was the whole reason she had gotten her grandmother to drop her off an hour early for work. He told her he needed a favor, one she was nervous about, but willing to do.

All she could think now was he either changed his mind, or the favor was waiting on her in the diner.

***

A
half block away, Murdock Souter was sitting in the shadows of a screened in porch on a lime green vinyl couch, trembling with rage.

Moments before he had staggered to the bathroom, still feeling wasted from the night before, twisted and sick. His glazed eyes stared out the window as he unloaded his bladder, and as he did he saw Declan Rawlings’s truck across the way.

Murdock was sure the fuck was after him, ready to finish the fight they had started before. At that very second, Murdock couldn’t remember what started the fight much less how it ended, he just knew one thing—he hated Declan.

Murdock wasn’t a fool. He knew something went down with Declan and Justice, he could read that girl without even trying. He’d been scornfully simmering on the idea for days.

Not even bothering to tell the girl passed out across her bed bye, he’d grabbed his shirt and made his way out. Right when he reached the edge of the yard he saw them. Declan pulling back from a kiss then walking away in his high and mighty, I don’t give a fuck, way. And there was Justice looking just as sick and pained as he had seen her before when Declan Rawlings was the favored topic.

Murdock and Justice had never had a real thing, but they had something. They were more than friends, and yet, he’d never once seen her even show an ounce of the emotion toward anything or any one the way she did toward Declan.

Why she did was lost on Murdock. The guy was a dick and had always been one. Walking around like he was too good to be friends with anyone. Too cool to be bothered with having a good time. The fucking girls ate it up—the bigger the ass he was, the more they would flock.

Declan would use them and lose them, leaving them broken and twisted enough that any and all self confidence was shattered, making them easy prey for guys like Murdock, who just needed a break from the straight line. A quick fuck.

Murdock never imagined Justice being one of those girls, and knowing she was now
burned
him.

He didn’t move when he heard the screen door creak behind him, but the second he felt the woman’s arm snake around his shoulder he jolted up and glared back at her. She was a rough pick when he was three sheets to the wind. In the morning light, she looked all the rougher. She had at least five years on him, but it looked and sounded like more with her smoker’s cough, pasty skin, and cagy stare.

The woman grinned and crossed her arms as she stood up straighter. “What are you doing out here?” she asked, looking over him, the nasty bruise on his chest, and how black and blue his jaw was. She was sure it was swollen.

“Leaving,” he said harshly.

He pushed inside past her and kicked Jacks awake. He was passed out on the couch with two different girls across him, neither one of them were Faith, the chick who was hard up for Jacks last Murdock heard.

When Jacks took one look at Murdock and laughed, Murdock knew he’d have to avoid anyone who mattered for a day or so. The last thing he wanted anyone to know was that he had gotten into a brawl and not come out on top. Again.

Fuck a Rawlings.

His nasty attitude didn’t go anywhere all day long. He’d gone home, fought with his mother when she asked him where he’d been and ‘what was on his face’ then he crashed, but not before washing as much as he could of the skank from the night before off.

When he finally woke after dark he had a slew of missed texts and calls.

The only one he bothered to call back was Justice’s house. Her calling him made him think maybe he was just still drunk that morning and imagined it all.

Brent Rose was the one who answered. He was the one looking for Murdock and all but demanded he meet him at his shop—well, the shop that use to be Justice’s grandfather’s. Brent had been moving things in for a minute now. He basically used it as a place to sell equipment he came across. He was always looking for a way to make some fast cash. This storm was like the lottery for him.

Not only did people want the help clearing damage away or ‘taking care of things’ during their emotional stress, but they also trusted the town alderman, the man who was everybody’s friend. Who made you feel like a million bucks when he smiled at you or offered his approval. You just wanted to respect him, fall under his favor. So much so, any crazy rumors you heard about him, any bullshit stories the roughneck Rawlings and company said, just sounded insane.

Tonight Brent Rose wanted Murdock’s help unloading all the metal he had picked up around town after the storm. He had a ton of copper, which was worth a fortune, more machines, and nearly a whole fence line.

Telling Brent no was never easy, and since he was offering beer for payment, Murdock knew if he refused Brent would know something was up.

Instead, Murdock hoped his fair-haired stubble would help hide the mark on his jaw as he dressed. Once outside, for good measure, he slapped some dirt on him, to make it look like he had been busy working all day, and to cover his marks all the more.

When he opened his truck door, his bag along with a pile of baseballs fell out.

He squinted from the pain in his chest as he knelt down to pick them up two at a time, and then as he did, flashes of what went down the night before came to him. He remembered throwing balls at Nolan’s truck; he remembered how good his aim was.

Even though he didn’t remember how the fight ended, knowing he managed to get a shot at Declan and Nolan’s ride spread a grin across his face as he loaded his bag and threw it in the passenger seat. At once, he was feeling better. One way or another Declan was gone by now.

An hour into helping Brent unload the trailer, he had backed up to the shop and Murdock was sure he wasted his time throwing any dirt on himself.

He was sweating out all he drank the night before and every morsel of dust in the old shop was sticking to him.

“You sure you want this here?” Murdock asked, throwing down fencing post across lawnmowers that Brent had jacked from across town, ones the storm had picked up and carried away. Brent said he was doing the owners a favor, they could claim it and he could sell them—everybody won his way.

One of the mowers had a busted gas line. Every time the motor was cranked gas came out like a river. The whole area was rank with the stench of both oil and gas. Then again, the whole shop was.

“Those are some good post, nails or not. I can use the wood for somethin’,” Brent said, wiping the sweat out of his dark eyes. His deep auburn hair was so wet it was black.

Murdock wasn’t the only one sweating out the drink from the night before, much less the twelve pack they had already gone through like it was water over the last hour.

“Right, but the wood’s gonna be soaked,” Murdock said, looking down at the last pool of gas that had not had a chance to dry.

Brent waved him off and threw another board riddled with nails and long rebar on the pile, barely missing one of the mowers.

“I just want it in here now. I can sort it out in a bit.”

Murdock didn’t say anything, but he knew Brent was just trying to hide all this stuff before the haze of the storm wore off and people started to question everything, count every penny.