Deploy (6 page)

“Service sucks down here. It’s better by the lockers, but I’m betting the lines are down.” He nodded to her. “Your dad not done yelling at you or somethin’?”

She held his stare longer than she wanted to. Justice wanted to see him, his demons, but wasn’t ready for him to see hers, to understand the storm below her calm surface.

“He likes the sound of his voice,” she said, finally moving her gaze from him.

It was tense for a second, but finally he spoke. “Would you tell somebody if it was too bad?”

She bit her lip, telling somebody anything was a fool’s errand. The Sheriff was one of her dad’s best friends. And her father all but ran the mayor’s campaign. His real-estate business had him connected to almost every walk of life in or around Bradyville, and those were just his public friends, not the ones he drank with, or played cards with or whatever he did when he’d disappear at night.

Brent Rose was furious Justice’s grandfather had stepped in at all when it came to Justice, and the moment he died he made moves to control everything he had, including the church and the home Justice lived in.

Brent Rose found a loophole, everything was left to Justice, and she was a minor. Even when her grandmother tried to say she was a guardian, too, it came down to what kind of one she was, and he split enough hairs to where it came out she had no financial say. After Brent Rose had all but robbed her grandmother, he moved under her roof. And now here they were. Waiting for the right way to get back what was theirs.

“I know how to deal,” she said, flinching a smile. She didn’t want this, for him to look at her like a charity case—to remember her as some poor girl with a sordid father.

Declan clenched his fist and told himself to calm down. “That’s not an answer. Murdock know it’s bad at home?”

Murdock did. He’d heard about and he’d seen it. How he felt about it seemed to vary. Murdock liked how overprotective her dad was, and felt privileged her dad let her leave with him. Murdock liked the version of her dad who worked on cars in his shop, or watched the game.

Other times when Murdock was around and her dad lost his mind, he’d either make an excuse or tell her it was the bottle talking.

Murdock Souter had his pluses and minuses, ones Justice had never really cared to figure out. When it came down to the bones of it he was a friend her father approved of.

She arched a brow and grasped a bit of her nerve. “Why would it be Murdock’s issue?”

Declan drew his head back in confusion, “If you were my—” he caught his words almost a second too late. “If you were a Rawlings’ girl it would be
our
issue.”

She swayed her hand between them. “Something is lost in translation. I’m not getting why you think I’m anyone’s girl, or why my private life is anyone’s business but mine.”

Declan hadn’t heard her boldness in years, so at first it threw him, but then what she said settled a bit. “You’re always with Murdock.”

“He’s my ride.”

“You guys have never—” Again he stopped himself, because he was sure he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Are you trying to ask me if we messed around? If we have benefits?”

“No.”

“What then?”

He cursed under his breath and looked away then right back at her. “Why did he make you cry? Why did Nolan hit him if you and him don’t have anything real?”

Justice felt like she had been punched in the gut. A quake of fear exploded in her chest causing her blush to deepen.

When Declan Rawlings had you pinned in under his gray stare, the rays of baby blue slicing through it, lying was not possible; at least it wasn’t for her. Her issue now was the truth was not possible either.

The morning the fight went down was the same morning her grandmother told her what to expect before and after Declan left. It was the morning Bell told Justice to say her peace. Murdock had heard some of the conversation, how much Justice didn’t know, but on the way to school he told her fretting over a jarhead Rawlings was a waste of time.

She was crying over Declan, and it pissed Murdock off. She was sure he had slept with five girls since then, trying to get her mad or jealous. Neither happened.

“I’d realized how close graduation was for your class. It was a reality check I wasn’t ready for.”

Declan furrowed his brow as his gaze darted over her expression, looking for what she wasn’t saying. Nolan had told him, long before today, that this is how Justice was nowadays. Evasive. Declan’s issue was he didn’t get evasive; he needed bluntness, black and white. It’s wrong or it’s right.

“Murdock leaving next year?” he questioned, trying to pick away at this claim of hers they were not hooking up.

“Not really, Savanna State is the last I heard.”

Which was all of an hour away. Declan was hoping she’d say he was going to be states away.

“Are you going to Parris Island?” she asked, wanting the discussion to flip to him.

He nodded, not really biting. The information helped her, though. The base was just under two hours away. At least he’d be close for the first bit of his contract.

“Why does your daddy like him so much?” he asked.

She shrugged.

Silence filled the small room for a long moment until a rumble of thunder caused her to jar forward.

Declan flinched, not because of the sound, but because his instinct was to reach out for her. He’d barely stopped himself.

Instead, he decided to take her mind off the storm. “What you gonna do next year when you graduate?”

“I don’t know,” she said on a sigh. “Teacher maybe?”

“You don’t know?”

She giggled at his dumfounded expression. “No, Declan, not everyone is born knowing what they are going to do.”

Pride flooded his gaze.

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “It’s always been in your eyes. You are your father’s son.”

“It’s my choice,” he said a bit too defensively. He hated how people thought he was doing this because of some family tradition, because it was expected—at least he hated it when Nolan made him feel like that was why.

After a few tense seconds she asked, “Does that mean you’re not scared?”

Admitting it to anyone, especially a girl—and this one to top it off—that he had any fear was not something he was ready to do. Ever.

“Where did that question come from?”

She moved her gaze from him, “I don’t know. I guess I was wondering if once you made a choice if the fear left or if it was still there, just different. A fear you were ready to face, something like that.”

Justice hit nail on the head, but he wasn’t going to say so. He did give her a short, quick nod. “You got a choice to make?”

She re-crossed her outstretched legs as she answered, “Who doesn’t?”

“Choices like getting away from your asshole father? You’re ‘bout to vanish because of that fuck, aren’t you?”

She flinched with the thunder that seemed to punctuate his ire.

Declan couldn’t help it that time. His hand reached for hers as he drew his other knee up and pulled her to lean toward him. “Tell me the storm is making you shake,” he said quietly once the rumble had lessened.

No. It was him, all but pulling her into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her gaze moved from their hands that were laced together, up his chest, past his broad shoulders, then somehow made it to the storm clouds of his eyes. “Yes.” But it was the storm of him, not the one outside, or the one waiting on her at home.

S
he’d dropped her gaze again and relaxed against him, which was a lot easier than she’d assumed it would be. Touching him made it easier to talk to him, to absorb him. He felt right against her. Always had.

“I’m not leaving Bradyville,” she said to answer his question that was still lingering in the air. 

“Ever?”

She breathed a grin. “You make it sound horrible. It’s my home. I’m the last Everly.”

“You’re a Rose.”

“Well, I’m the last of my grandfather’s blood and he loved this town and his land, the people.”

Declan remembered the back-story now. Her mother went off to school and came back with Brent Rose. The asshole had no roots here, yet he had managed to get his hands in everything.

Justice was already in Declan’s head—a worry he didn’t want. He wasn’t thrilled to know for sure there were issues with her dad, and she wasn’t bailing. And he’d be too far away to do anything about it if it ever got really bad.

His mind started flipping through people he could ask on the sly to watch her. It would have to be Atticus. He was just as stout as the other Rawlings’ boys, and he knew how to be cunning.

“Might be good to get some space between you and your dad for a little bit, though.” What he wanted to say was if it gets bad you go to my brother, he’ll get you to my dad, my grandparents.

She squeezed his hand. If she left, gave up, her grandfather’s land would turn into booze. She’d never go far until it was hers and protected.

“What about you? Is it the Marines forever?”

Way to deflect that there, Justice
, he thought. His thumb grazed over her hand. “I signed for four. We’ll see where we are then.”

“We?” she asked, feeling sick all at once when the idea of him planning a future with someone registered in her imagination.

“I don’t know who I’m going to be then. Dad said after four I’d know more.”

“I thought you said you’d never come back here?”

Again, not being able to help it, he pulled her a bit closer. Now her shoulder was leaned against his chest. “You remember that?” he asked, his words whispered down her neck.

Years back, when they ended up close and personal around a campfire the conversation started a lot like this, them wishing on a star, saying where they’d go.

“At fifteen, you were sure you’d never come back. You were going to circle the globe, save the world.”

“Well,” he said at length, “for all I know that will not take a lifetime to do. Dad’s got the bar. Gramps has the garage. Tobias wants to come up with something on his own or take over one of the two. There’s no telling...” He tightened his hold on her hand.

Two hours ago when he was mulching flower beds he would have told anyone he’d never be back besides for a Rally. Right then the idea of him saying never cut into his chest. “In four years, I’ll figure it out.”

“How’s Tobias doing now that he’s home?” she asked. She was sure the reason Declan was not quick to say never now was because of him.

Tobias had been ready to never come back to Bradyville. One fall and his whole life changed.

“Good.”

“You’re lying.”

Declan bit his lip as he lifted both his brows. “Different. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s the same but different. Just working through it, focusing on us.”

Whatever comfort they found was lost. The truth of what was to come was lingering in the air and both their minds were rushing in opposite directions.

Oddly enough it was the sound of weather radio’s emergency broadcast that broke the tension.

Declan had moved away from her and turned it down only to pull it to his ear.

“Is it bad?” she asked when he pulled the flashlight a bit closer.

“We’re good,” he said, even though a pretty harsh line was bearing down on them.

He didn’t pull her against him again. Not touching her was somewhat helping him clear his head. He was having a hard time understanding how an hour with her had flipped his whole mind; then again he wasn’t.

This girl could not talk to him for months at a time, not utter one word, just shoot him long glances, and yet when she did open her mouth it was like they’d always been close.

She’d put on spell on him tonight. He knew this was bad. His own personal code and loyalty kept telling him Nolan had a ‘take’ on this girl. And even if Nolan didn’t like her that way, he still had his reason for keeping it in place. And more than likely it was because Nolan knew she was too good for any Rawlings, least of all Declan.

Right then as a clap of thunder sounded above them, she went to move closer to him but hesitated.

He could have sworn he felt an electric current reach out and kiss his skin, a silent call for him to pull her to him. Her gaze nervously moved to the radio again, another warning had come across but he knew the storm, at least the current cell of storms, was miles away.

A devastatingly handsome smile eased across his face.

“What?” she asked.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“So tough, so righteous...on the surface.”

She swallowed somewhat tensely. “What does that mean?”

“This storm is scaring the shit out of you.” He glanced over her. “Yet, you act like it’s killing you to move closer to me, to hide next to me.”

Was he not there two seconds ago? Was he not the one who moved away?

“And since when did you become a cocky asshole?”

He brazenly lifted his brow. “When am I not?”

She quieted the adrenaline that threatened to unsteady her voice. “You’re direct, but you have never been cruel to me.”

His smile faded as his gaze searched over her. Yeah, he had. But he couldn’t help it; it was his nature to be defensive toward something he could not understand.

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” his tone was quiet.

“I know what you hide.”

He furrowed his brow.

“Underneath all this you’re shy...sweet.”

“Not anymore,” he said bluntly. “And if I remember correctly, I wasn’t all that shy last time you and I found ourselves alone.”

She flushed as her mind and body soared back in time. Declan had been just about every first she’d had, and he had made sure those who came after him hovered in his shadow.

It could’ve been because she was so young, because he was a dare, or because it was her first experience, but it felt different with him. She was aware, locked in a moment, a world with him.

“Is this the part where we compare notches on our bedpost?” she asked. “Where I get to hear about all your conquests, and the ones you plan to have?”

Declan swayed his head side to side. Even if it was, he doubted he could remember another girl’s name right about then. “This is me telling you I’m not sweet. And when I want something I’m not shy about taking it.”  He leaned forward a bit. “This is me telling you the silent treatment you gave me in the past was one of the smartest things you’ve
ever
done.”