Authors: Jamie Magee
Tags: #Bad boy romance, #Marines, #Jamie McGuire, #Jamie Magee, #mystery
“I don’t fucking think you’re weak.” His whisper was sharp, so sharp he might as well have yelled it. He dipped his head and shook it before looking back at her. “If anything you’re too strong.” He paused and stared into thin space before meeting her gaze. “This town is corrupt and I don’t want you here.”
“Your family is here. Mine is. School is.”
“And this is your home. Yeah, you said as much.” He stood and paced before her. “And it has done you no favors.” He paused before her. “I’m barely holding on here, Justice. I can’t be there and know you are here—here with—” He stopped because saying Murdock’s name was more than he could do or she could hear.
“Just give me a minute, okay.” Her stare trickled over him. “Please.”
To her running away felt right. Hiding felt right. Facing her demons felt right. She just needed a minute.
His entire body tensed then leaned down to her lips. His kiss brushed her lips tenderly as his expression drew tight with emotion. When he rose he pulled his shoulders back and in a tight military stride left the room with only the slightest glance back.
Bell didn’t say a word to him as he left. Neither did Missy, just half hugs and eyes that never met. Outside, he found Atticus leaning against the door leading out of the screen porch, and Boon leaned against the side of the house.
Each time he saw Atticus lately he had to do a double take. He was looking more like Nolan each day, at least in the relaxed way Nolan carried himself. His build was strong but lean. His hair was long and dark, long enough he could tie it back if he wanted. And he’d dissed chasing the Rawlings five o’clock shadow on the regular, so more times than not he looked like he was on the verge of growing a thick, long, beard.
Today, Atticus was sporting his aviators which he wore down his nose a bit; his hands were tucked in jeans that were slack on his hips.
“Protect her,” Declan demanded.
For good reason, Boon and Atticus didn’t know who had hurt Justice.
There would be no stopping Declan’s younger brothers if they did. They didn’t have the maturity or special ops experience Tobias had. They didn’t have the fear of losing Justice like Declan had. No, they just loved her like their sister, they’d do anything for her and the consequences be damned.
Declan trusted them to keep her safe now, deep down he really did.
Nevertheless, Murdock had wilted Declan’s rose and he was going to pay. He was going to wish he was never born by the time Declan was through with him. No matter where he was or what he was doing, he’d plan this revenge until it was had.
Declan glanced to his side at Boon, who couldn’t pass for any kind of baby anymore. He’d filled out like Declan and Tobias, thicker in the shoulders, tall. The innocence and youth he had lingered in his eyes which were always equally questioning and angry.
“You don’t leave her side. Fucking move in.”
Boon nodded sharply. He already planned to; he hadn’t been more than hundred feet from her since she came home from the emergency room.
When Declan finally made it to Providence’s truck he slid in the passenger seat and stared forward. Not at his family staggered across the yard. How broken they’d all become, how much worse it became each time he came back, but at her window. Where he left her. She’d come to the pane to watch him leave...something she’d become accustomed to doing.
The smallest of smiles was on her face as the tips of her fingers gently waved goodbye. Just like when they were in high school, their stare seemed to say a million things and nothing at all...what it did do was connect them on a level that neither one of them understood, not even after all this time.
“She’s going to be all right,” Providence said.
“Yeah, and how do you know?”
Providence smirked. “Because Dawson likes her, and she hates everyone.” Providence lifted his shoulder. “I already told you, she’ll make her even stronger, a fighter. Nothin’ is ever going to hurt her again—at least it won’t live to talk about it.”
***
W
hen Bell finally met Dawson, and sensed how much Dawson had helped Justice through not only this ‘mugging’ but also the past, she was quick to tell Dawson they had plenty of room if she wanted to stay a bit. Dawson had jumped at the idea and volunteered to help with rent if they could make it a permanent deal.
Justice had more than one knock down drag out fight with Dawson about how she was not a charity case. The first one happened about five minutes after Declan left.
“You want me to fucking leave? Fine. Make me,” Dawson had threatened.
Justice tried, she’d fought hard as hell. She kicked, she pulled hair, ripped clothes and somehow by the time it was over she had managed to get Dawson outside but she was the one lying on ground panting for breath, with both Boon and Atticus staring them both down as if they had somehow landed in the twilight zone and weren’t sure if they wanted to stay or go.
Dawson squatted across Justice’s waist and leaned forward. “I’m going to teach you to kick ass, the
right
way.” She leaned closer. “So when this fuck comes back ‘round—and he will—you’ll let him know looking your way was a
fatal
mistake.”
Justice swallowed harshly, trying to catch her breath. “Why do you care?”
“Because I can,” she said as she stood tall and made her way back inside, sauntering right by the star struck Boon and Atticus.
Dawson made good on her word. You would’ve thought Justice was training for the Marines herself starting that next dawn.
They boxed, a lot. But there was more to their routine. After the first day Justice found herself sleeping so deeply that no dreams touched her, good or bad, and at the next dawn, she felt a little stronger.
After three weeks, Justice almost felt like herself again. The scars were still there. The emotions that were toxic, and the thoughts that were just as tragic were too, but she was getting there—breaking through the fog.
She was able to fool Declan, or so she assumed. Their conversations went back to the routine they where used to during the time they were apart, the ones she saw differently now that she knew what his life was like away from Bradyville.
They knew every detail of every day, but nothing deeper.
Because he came to see her when he did he couldn’t come for the next Rally. They thought they weren’t going to get to see each other before his deployment but the one he was assigned to changed again.
Now he was going later, and he was going longer, right until the end of his contract that he never bothered to tell her if he was renewing or not, and if so for how long.
A girl could read into the lack of discussion a million different ways, none of them good.
It was right at a month when she saw Murdock again. She was in the library, studying for the summer course she not only picked up but paid for when she thought Declan was going to be gone, but wasn’t now.
A class that was giving her an excuse to heal a little more before she was face to face with the intensity of Declan and the weight of their uncertain future.
She rounded a corner and Murdock was there, coming up the other way with a cup of coffee in his hand.
He actually sneered at her, which made her blood boil with rage.
Just behind him she saw Dawson walking by. She glanced up as if she heard Justice’s fear calling her name. Instead of coming to her defense, fighting her battle for her, she simply nodded and walked on.
Dawson didn’t go far, only one aisle over, where she could not only hear what went down, but also see Boon who hated every minute of being stuck in a library.
“Well, well,” Murdock said to Justice. “I used to know a girl who looked a lot like you,” he said in a low tone. He nodded toward her stiffly “When did you get back? Did he get over it? Not tight enough for him any more?”
Justice gasped. She had thought through this scenario a thousand times. Each time she fought with Dawson she’d yell, “Who do you see? Who are you stronger than? Fucking show me, girl! I don’t believe it. I don’t. Make me.”
Murdock seemed bigger to Justice. He was never small by any means, but somehow, even though the logical side of her mind said he was weaker, that the drinking and drugs were leaving a mark, she saw him as a massive demon. An evil that would not let her rest.
She felt her heart racing, her skin dampened with fear, her fist clutched.
But then she breathed, deep and slow. Then she heard Dawson in her head. The four hours a day they spent ‘training’ started to flood her.
She was still scared. There was no stopping it. But she was angrier.
A manic smirk reached her lips for a second before resentment took over her expression. She slammed her heel on his foot, punched him in the jaw, and upward thrust contact was made with the palm of her hand.
Dumbfounded, Murdock moved back, holding his face and spilling his coffee all over the front of him. “What the fuck?”
“That’s what you want to say?” she asked brandishing the Taser she had on her. If she really wanted to get crazy she could have pulled out the forty-five she had concealed at her back.
He jerked his head up, looking at her like she was the insane one. “After the shit I’ve done for you. After your jarhead buddy nearly got me to confess to our night of hell, the least I should be allowed to do is tease you about who you’re fucking.” He leaned a bit forward giving her reason to take aim at his groin.
She shook—her hand was trembling with rage, rage because she knew he didn’t even fucking remember. He had ruined her all over again and it was nothing to him but a black out drunk.
Her gaze dipped to his forearm, to the scar she had left there when she bit down when he all but suffocated her. She swallowed harshly and thought of every reason to kill him and not to kill him—the latter was coming up short.
Could anyone be any more dangerous? Psychopathic? To destroy a life and not even remember?
“You
raped
me,” she hissed, saying it aloud for the first time
ever
. Admitting it happened to herself. The pain of the moment was indescribable, but the strength it gave her was much the same.
His dark eyes searched hers rapidly, confirming what she already knew. He didn’t remember.
“Yeah, try pulling that off—see what I don’t say,” he said in a shallow tone a few seconds later.
She almost laughed, because what he said was exactly what she knew he’d say the night it happened. She knew him that well. How sick and self-righteous he was.
She stepped forward and fired, tasing him right where it mattered. He yelled out but before anyone came to investigate she stood over him and glared down. “Come near me again and I’ll cut it off.” And then she walked away.
She stormed out of the library, Dawson hot on her heels. Boon set off to figure out who was yelling and why.
“What the fuck, Dawson!” Justice raged when they got outside, when she felt the sun wash down her, really felt it for the first time, when she tasted the air, noticed it was there. “You just left me!”
Justice couldn’t focus on anything. Her entire body was numb with adrenaline.
“It was your fight.”
Justice shook her head as she paced. “I’m fucking armed. I could have killed him! Then what?”
“You wouldn’t have,” Dawson said calm as ever as she dropped her sunglasses over her face.
“You don’t know that,” Justice argued. “What was this? Some training bullshit? Some way to help me get over it?”
“No,” Dawson said honestly. When Justice met her gaze she said, “You’ll never get over it. Ever. It will stay with you. What you do with it, what you allow it to do to you is your choice. Own the demon or let it own you.”
Justice dropped her head.
“You faced him,” Dawson said. “Done. Now you know this beast can be defeated.” Dawson stepped up. “Now you need work on getting back to where you belong. Making shit right again.”
A beat later Boon charged out the doors franticly looking for Justice. When he found her, saw how calm she was, a half smirk emerged as he shook his head. “I want to brag about this but it will just piss him off,” he said.
No one needed clarification. It would do more than piss Declan off if he knew Murdock was breathing the same air as Justice.
“My fight,” she said, sternly looking at Boon before turning and walking away, feeling lighter than she had in months. Her demon was walking next to her, not perched on her shoulder, and she was sure it was a bit smaller now. Not much, but still. Every victory deserves to be celebrated.
***
B
y the time the summer class was over, Justice felt right, strong. It was time to go home to Declan. The plan was to stay with him until he had to deploy. Justice was determined to see the plan through. She knew it was going to be a battle when she saw the distant look in Declan’s eyes when he picked her up at the airport. His guarded touch as he took her hand nearly broke her before she ever stepped onto the battlefield.
“Beautiful,” he said, leaning into to kiss her brow, then slowly guiding her against him. He didn’t hold her tighter until she wrapped her arms around him then drifted them up encircling his shoulders pulling him hard against her, so hard that she hoped she could slip inside and hide forever. It was hard to tell if his grunt was a tease when she squeezed him or if she really took him off guard.
“Friendly fire,” he quipped putting his arm around her and guiding her out to his truck. “I guess Dawson wasn’t joking when she said she was going to put you through boot camp.”
“I don’t think Dawson knows how to joke, she needs a dose of a good time—overdue.”
The random phrase stifled the mood all the more. It was said around the Rawlings the reason ‘Tomorrow’—as they called her— fit Nolan so well was because they were perfect opposites. He’d never be serious about anything without her, and she’d never smile without him. Justice still didn’t know their story, but had a feeling it wasn’t all sunshine and butterflies.
The storms were rolling in the emotions of everyone, Declan and Dawson bore the brunt of the pain and there was nothing Justice could do to make it better. Hell, it was all she could do to get herself right most days.