by Jamie Magee
Before then he’d made out with girls, and since then there had been far more girls who had taken him way past innocence, but she was the only one he remembered every detail about, from the touch of her flesh to the taste of her kiss. He could still remember the smell of her hair; strawberries and champagne.
They ended up breaking apart, basically running to opposite sides of the campfire when his brothers approached on their four-wheelers. For the next day or so he never found a second to talk to her without Nolan around, and when he did, she was back to ignoring him.
He didn’t see her for the rest of the summer, not even at church. And when school started back up he was in high school and she wasn’t. He crossed her path at football games, though. She’d smile shyly, maybe talk to him in a group, but that was about it. Her daddy was never far, and if he was Murdock was right there.
Her freshman year they were back on speaking terms, but it was still tense between them, neither one could hold the other’s stare long. Declan would have found a way to forget she existed if her name was not always on Nolan’s lips.
As far as Declan knew they hadn’t hooked up, they just had a lot of classes together—all the smart classes—and her locker was right next to Declan and Nolan’s. Murdock’s was on the other side of her, which is where the fight went down that Declan was serving time for.
Murdock had said something Nolan didn’t like, and Nolan introduced Murdock’s head to the locker. The ass ended up having to get three stitches across his brow, and his daddy was all about filing charges on Nolan, which would have been easy for him to do because he’s the Sheriff.
But then all the kids, even the baseball team, started ragging Murdock for running to his daddy to keep him safe, and the charges vanished; the six detentions didn’t. All of that went down nearly two months back and to this day, Declan still grins and taps the dent in the locker every time he passes it, wishing it was him that got one good punch in.
Declan didn’t like a lot of people, but he usually got over it, or at least found a way to deal with it—except for Murdock. Some people just have that look in their eye, one that tells you to watch your back.
Speaking of...
He was just about to break his stolen stare with Justice when his instinct took over; out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Murdock had adjusted his stance. Instead of aiming his pitch at the coach working with him, he aimed the ball right at Declan. Obviously, he thought it would be amusing to see Declan dodge the pitch he was firing, which meant Declan would not give him the gratification.
Instead—he caught it.
All at once it felt like the entire field was staring down the pair of them. They were waiting, knowing very well this baseball game could turn into a wrestling match at the drop of a dime.
A Souter and a Rawlings were in a standoff.
What they didn’t know was Declan had self-control, and he had priorities. The Sheriff had been itching to take down any one of them for making a fool of his boy, and Declan standing up now would give him every right to—which would, in turn, keep Declan from the date he had been counting down to for over a year now.
Troublemakers do not belong in the Marines, simple as that.
Declan hadn’t even bothered to flinch—he should’ve. Murdock was known for his fastballs. Every catcher had to ice their hand after working with him.
Declan would be a liar if he said his hand wasn’t burning, but he’d be damned if he’d look weak now. Instead, he dropped the ball in the mulch at his feet as his stare dared Murdock to come and get it.
Murdock offered a pissed shake of his head then went back to warming up. The crowd whispered among themselves, somewhat disappointed they didn’t get front row seats to a quarrel that never ended between those two families.
Declan couldn’t help it, his gaze moved to Justice, and there he found a shy curl of her lips waiting on him.
Looking at me like that is dangerous, girl, he thought. He’d just stopped himself from a fight, adrenaline was pumping, and it was bound to go somewhere. Her smile was tempting without the provocation.
“That fucker is asking for an ass whooping, all but wearing a fucking sign.”
Declan looked over his shoulder and sighed, knowing the smile Justice was dishing out wasn’t for him.
Just behind him was Nolan, Tobias, and the youngest of the five brothers, Boon.
Each Rawlings boy seemed to be cut from the same mold: tall, broad shoulders, leading to a narrow waist, and layers of taut muscles. They all had dark hair and skin that was kissed by the sun. It was their eyes that set them apart, the way they carried themselves in general.
Out of all the Rawlings, Declan’s brood was thought to be the most reckless, mainly because they grew up without a momma.
She’d hit the high road long ago. Some didn’t blame her; others shamed her just the same.
Declan’s mother married his father when she was seventeen because Tobias was on the way. By the time she was twenty-four, she had five boys. At thirty-two—when their dad came home from his last deployment and they actually spent a year under the same roof—she decided she wanted a life of her own and vanished in the night. They might get a card from her at Christmas now and again.
Her actions, in some ways, caused the Rawlings’ boys to distrust women in general, question their promises. More so, Declan, than any of them. He was close to his mother; even as a child he knew she was too young and carefree for the lot she had dug herself, but still...mommas shouldn’t leave, and his did.
Chasen Rawlings, Declan’s father, made do the best he could after she was gone. But since he owned and operated the only bar the Roughnecks pulled up a stool in, it was hard.
So much so that Tobias, in a way, was both a brother and a father to the boys, mainly because he was very aware of the bullshit they were pulling and did his best to keep them out of it, even taking the rap for shit he didn’t pull.
When he was away, it was Declan’s job to do so with the younger boys.
Tobias was the biggest, and he’d done nothing but pack on more muscle since he graduated and signed the dotted line. Even now, on leave, more than likely about to be honorably discharged, he was still fit as hell. He was determined to not let one rod in his back stop his life at the age of twenty-four.
Tobias spent his days either at their grandpa’s shop or their daddy’s bar, and if not there he was doing something to stay fit. Day in and day out he had been coaching Declan, running him through the hell he was about to go through.
It wasn’t all physical exercises either—Tobias was in his face pushing every button he had, all in the name of growing even thicker skin, grasping even more control. At this point, Declan was sure basic training would be a vacation, even though Tobias swore he hadn’t seen anything yet.
Tobias’s clear blue eyes shined in the sun as he glared down the ball field. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and reached to scratch the near constant five o’clock shadow that accented his strong jawline. His brow was tensed in question, or rather, deep evaluation.
Declan knew from the look in his eye he had already thought of ten ways to kill Murdock and anyone who wanted to stand with him. Tobias would not let anyone take a sucker punch in his presence and God help anyone who thought to take one at one of his kid brothers.
“How old is he now?” he asked whoever knew the answer.
“Seventeen. I got this,” Boon who was the baby, barely sixteen, said.
His hair hadn’t darkened the Rawlings way just yet but was on its way, just like his build was. He had the height and the muscle—he was working on toning up.
Boon knew it would be a life or death matter before Declan threw a punch this close to boot camp, and that Nolan couldn’t because for sure the Sheriff would come after him. And if Tobias did it would be even worse because he’d be hitting a kid. Those Souters liked to hide behind their laws and rules—asshats. If there was a loop in the law, they’d find it and swoop in and take shit
like cowards.
Declan gave Boon a hard glance then barely shook his head. Youngest or not, Boon was the wildest and the hardest to deal with.
As Boon stepped forward, Tobias’s arm shot out like a viper. “If you need to be closer to intimidate that fool then you have a lotta growing to do.” Tobias barely moved his lips as he spoke and it was hard to hear him over the wind that was carrying the storm in, but his message hit home. Boon decided to stand just like Tobias, arms crossed and a placid expression at best.
Declan flicked his glance to Nolan, wanting to be pissed that he had earned yet another glimpse of affection from Justice, but finding it just as hard to do when he saw his brother’s carefree grin, one that told Declan he didn’t even notice. It didn’t matter anyway. They were both out of there within a week. Justice Rose would only be a chapter in the book of their boyhood. When they returned for good, they’d be men.
Both Declan and Nolan stood six foot three inches tall, just a tad shorter than Tobias. They were lean but ripped—and they both had the same eyes. The only real differences, the ones you might notice if you didn’t know them, were that Declan almost always had a shadow of stubble framing his sharp cheek bones and his lips weren’t as thin as Nolan’s. And according to his grandmother, Missy, he had the longest lashes of all the boys.
“Fuck him,” Declan said to Tobias who was still glaring at Murdock for taking a cheap shot at his brother. “What are y’all doin’?”
“Coming to fetch you,” Boon said, still trying to look just as tough as Tobias while he glared across the way.
Declan furrowed his brow in suspicion. He had his own ride. Then his stare slid to Nolan, wondering what in the hell he was up to. He’d heard him talking to their dad a few days ago about how Declan’s truck needed a new set of tires. It did, but Declan was not going to drop over a grand on some tires that he would not be using for months to come.
That’s where Nolan came in. His truck wasn’t going to make it very far on his road trip, so he wanted to use Declan’s. They’d argued about it for months. Nolan had even said if they were going to keep their cover story up then he had to take it. Their daddy wasn’t going to let them take two trucks to boot camp; he’d know something was up.
“Happy graduation,” Tobias said. “Daddy dropped a new transmission in Nolan’s truck this morning, and now your truck is getting new tires.”
Declan shook his head as he stared down Nolan who was sporting his classic ‘fuck yeah’ grin. New transmission or not, his truck still would not make it all the way to Canada, and now without the excuse of bad tires, Declan had little reason not to give in to Nolan.
It’ll keep his ass safe, he told himself, even though he flipped Nolan off.
“This storm’s going to be a bitch,” Tobias said glancing to the sky. “I told daddy I’d get you and we could head over to the bar and take shelter in the cellar. He’s already got Atticus with him.”
Atticus was the second to the youngest brother—daddy’s boy to say the least.
“I got two hours left on this bullshit. I need to be here.” Declan’s pride wouldn’t let him leave now, not after Murdock bucked up to him in front of everyone, in front of Justice.
“That’s a different tune,” Nolan spouted, glancing to the bleachers then to Declan. “What changed your mind there, bro?”
“Fuck you. I didn’t want to come, but I’m here ain’t I? I leave now, and that ass thinks he made me.”
“That pride got the two of you in this shit in the first place,” Tobias said dismissively. He thought they were both in the fight, but only Nolan was busted for it, and Declan was serving the time because it was the right thing to do.
“Like you would’ve done differently,” Nolan said with a lift of his brow.
Tobias smirked. “Do as I say, not as I do.”
“What do you gotta do?” Nolan asked Declan. “What’s left? I’m telling you they’re going to call that game any second, we’ll just tell whoever I finished the time.” He shrugged. “What are they gonna do? Make me do this shit the morning we walk the line? Doubt it.”
Declan glanced over his shoulder to the Sheriff’s cruiser parked a few spaces back. He was sitting in it watching his son play. He and his big mouth would tell someone they left early. He’d already been looking at Declan like he was sure the wrong brother was in detention.
If the Souters hated anything more than someone standing up to them, it was having someone pull a fast one and get out of whatever bullshit trap they had set.
“Mulch these flower beds. I was supposed to water it, but I don’t think that’s gonna to be an issue,” Declan said with another glance to the sky. The wind was picking up, and the dark clouds above seemed to be racing each other as they glided by.
This storm was rolling off the coast. They’d been talking about it for weeks, and the parties to ride it out had been planned for just as long.
Tobias pulled his phone out of his jeans, answering the silent ring, then stepped away, meaning whatever girl he had on the line for the night was hitting him up.
Boon grabbed a bag of mulch and started laying it down in the flower beds next to the building. Nolan came to Declan’s side to help him finish planting the row of new bushes.
Nolan elbowed Declan when no one was looking. “When are you gonna stop eye fucking Justice?”
“Me? I’m just tryna’ to figure out how come a girl with your ‘take’ on her is looking right miserable. Starting to worry about you, man.”
“She’s smiling now,” Nolan taunted. Under his breath, he mumbled, “You and your damn loyalty.”
“When are you gonna take your ‘take,’ off of her?” Declan snapped back. “We’re both outta here.”
“Never.”
Declan shook his head knowing this was not the time to have this debate. A few years ago, maybe. But not now, at this late date.
“Why, fucker?” Declan asked, just because if he didn’t Nolan would know for sure Justice was his unicorn, the myth that was not meant to be his.
If Declan Rawlings was quiet, he was plotting, plotting to get something he wanted. If he was arguing, he was doing so just to rattle his brothers up. He didn’t care about the outcome because he had already declared he was going to win—and always did. What kind of win he was going for was never truly clear, though.
“Because that girl is right and as long as my ‘take’ is on her no Rawlings will hurt her.”
“Who?” Declan asked, thinking one of his cousins, or worse, younger brothers had their eye on her, and he didn’t know it. Tobias had for real had Declan under his wing since before Christmas. He’d told him it was best to take in the solitude, that it would be easier when he left if he had a degree of separation. So Declan had no clue what high school drama was going on.
He co-op’d out at eleven o’clock every day and went to the garage, and apparently, most drama happened during lunch and after school.
Nolan shook his head as he went back to his task. In his mind, Declan was a fool when it came to Justice. Nolan was almost sure the girl was born loving Declan. He only called ‘take’ when he was a boy because he was always trying to one up his brother and saw his chance.
When Declan figured out he wasn’t getting an answer, he cussed under his breath and went back to work. Then his thoughts got the better of him.
“I said who,” Declan gritted out.
“You need a girl right now? I’m not talking about a hit it and quit it. I mean somethin’ like her,” Nolan said with a tick of his head toward the field.
“What do you think?” Declan snapped.
A slow grin spread across Nolan’s lips. “I think my ‘take’ is going to stay in place until you can give me a different answer.”
“Right, then,” Declan breathed as he shook his head and went back to work. He wanted out of there before he had too much time to think about the possibility of Justice Rose in some far off distant future.
Even if he overlooked the fact
she still had a year of high school left and by that time he’d be a world away, and they would both be different people— it wouldn’t matter.
Justice Rose had a special kind of hate for Declan. She had to have; he couldn’t imagine why she would’ve been so terrible to him in the past for any other reason. She had confounded him in ways that couldn’t be legal in his mindset. Say it. Meant it. Move on. The ‘I’m ignoring you’ game did not compute in his mind as fair play.
Nolan whistled when he saw rage alight in his brother’s gaze. Then he chose to push a few more buttons simply because he was one of the few who could get away with it. “I guess it wouldn’t matter considering you’re all good with her and Murdock hooking up.”
The glance Declan tossed Nolan would have killed weaker men, or at least given them the idea to run for their life.
“Do you want me to get twisted up in some assault charges? Is it your goal to make sure my ticket out of here goes up in flames?”
“Now there’s an idea,” Nolan said with a daring glint in his eyes. He was mad as hell when he figured out Declan signed at seventeen.
He’d wanted Declan to wait, at least a year, and just run with him. For them to take a second to figure out who they were without the Rawlings’ name, and Rawlings’ history, who they were outside the corps, outside of Bradyville. It was the first thing the pair of them had disagreed on down to their core, the one thing neither would bend on.
As it stood Nolan claimed he wasn’t mad that Declan did his thing, but he was mad that he didn’t tell him, his best friend, he was going to. Not because they should have agreed on it, but because it was a huge day in his life and he’d shut Nolan out.
Declan couldn’t look him in the eye and deny it, which was half the reason Nolan had been able to convince Declan to help him as much as he had to make sure Nolan got his adventure.
Declan had covered for him, giving him any extra cash and shifts he had, and now apparently he was giving him his truck for a few months. And he still felt indebted to Nolan...and he was pissed at Nolan because he did. “You think an assault charge is going to land me on the road with you? Hiking up some fucking mountain for the hell of it and looking at sunsets and shit? You’ve lost your damn mind—chill, brother. Stop rattling my cage.”
