Deploy

by Jamie Magee

  “Enough,” Tobias grunted. They were both soaked in sweat, both heaving for breath.

  “I’m sick of you talking about him like he’s dead!” Declan raged. “And I’m sick of you telling me you have it handled here when you don’t!”

  “He is and I do,” Tobias said with an edge to his voice.

  Declan shoved him against the truck, his arm was bracing across his thick shoulders. “Five days, she was here with you for five days!”

  Tobias stood up pushing Declan back. “It happened in Savannah. Am I making excuses? No. No I’m not. I didn’t see this coming, and clearly she didn’t either. We’ll handle it.”

  “I’m handling it,” Declan said, going to the driver’s side.

  Tobias pulled him back. “By going to your woman, right? By telling her you love her and you’re there for her.”

  Declan jerked his arm away. “You know I’m going to kill him.”

  Tobias was in his face again. “I know that’s why she won’t tell you! I know that’s why you’re going to let Murdock take the only thing you have ever really given a damn about away.”

  Declan’s stare was merciless. He cared about his family, about the Corps. He cared too damn much.

  “You love her,” Tobias said. “You have since you were a boy and this will steal her away. Either you’re going to do something that will take you from her for good, or you will shut her out and lose her.”

  Declan hesitated. Only the thought of losing her would ever do such a thing.

  Seeing he was listening and knowing it was best to keep talking, Tobias went on. “I don’t know her like you, I don’t know her like Atticus and Boon, but I can see a warrior from a mile a way and she is one.”

  Declan dropped his head. “She’s going to fight this on her own, she won’t let me in. She’s too fucking stubborn.” His voice was trembling, his entire body was. This was too much.

  “Ask her to, but don’t come at her with this anger. You need an ass to kick, you find one of us.”

  Declan’s gaze shot to the side. He had never missed Nolan more than he had at that moment. He’d know what to say, what to do.

  Tobias pulled Declan to him, and patted him on the back, and let his kid brother take a moment to decompress. Moments later, Providence was dropped off by another truck, someone he’d hitched a ride with.

  Declan stared down Providence as he stepped up to them. He was sure he was about to be locked up for assault, he just wanted the chance to see Justice before he was.

  Providence shook his head. “He was too fucked up to even know it was you.”

  “What?” Declan roared. He wanted Murdock to know exactly who hurt him and why.

  Providence stared Declan down. “That Jacks guy says Murdock blacks out all the time, when Murdock got up and got in the car he acted like he didn’t even know he’d been struck. I asked him about his arm.” Providence clenched his jaw. “He looked at me like I was crazy then at it like it was the first time he’d seen it.” He bit his lip before he spoke. “Jacks said he’s been drunk for a minute, popping pills.”

  Declan leered. “Something is off about that fucker. I told you that from the gate.”

  Providence met his stare. “I can’t connect him to Nolan’s case, not when it is on record he was with your girl—of all people. You want to help me with that? You want something on record? You want to dig, push into that fucker the hard way? Then that’s the way.”

  Declan only glared back. Just like with all those he served with he never needed many words, he didn’t need to openly confirm or deny anything. They all knew but didn’t know Justice had better luck defending herself against her father in the past than she did a few nights ago with Murdock.

  Saying as much though, digging up those demons, dragging her through it—Declan would die first. He still saw her bastard father in her eyes when she woke from her nightmares.

  “That is what I thought,” Providence said.

  “This fuck is getting away with this?” Tobias’s tone was murderous. If so, the Rawlings’ were going to make sure there was a mysterious accident in his near future. Guaranteed.

  Providence’s smirk was just a lethal. “At the rate he’s is going, he’ll OD, but no, one way or another he’ll get his.” He glanced away. “I don’t know if Dawson can get Justice to file, but I know she can make her fierce.” He met Declan’s stare. “The rest is up to you.”

  Declan glanced at Tobias; everyone saw this the same way, apparently. They saw this destroying him and Justice. They saw it as the final crack between them. One too many tests for either of them.

  Fuck them, Declan thought. They don’t know shit.

  ***

  By the time Declan saw Justice for the first time the swelling in her face was gone, but the skin was still a little too blue for her to cover all the way. Her brow was nearly healed. The bruises on the rest of her body, across her shoulders, her arms, and her thighs were deep and black. There was no way she was letting Declan see them.

  When he first walked into her bedroom and saw her in a long sleeve t-shirt of his and yoga pants, when he saw those curls of hers loose, hiding her face, and the blank, angry stare in her eyes, he almost lost it again.

  She only stared at him, judging, reading, waiting for his reaction, his rejection. Something.

  He was stiff for a few precious seconds. Time had stood still and he knew even though they were standing in the same room, they had never been further apart.

  Then he marched forward, and slowly bent to her. His gaze moved deep into hers, reading the battle as if he was there. His jaw ticked with anger, but not a word came. His gaze dropped to her face, to the bruise she could not hide from him.

  He moved closer, then his lips carefully whispered a kiss across her flesh.

  She broke down then, the strong facade she wanted him to see crumbled. Her tears were silent but hard as she reached her arms around his shoulders. Gently, ever so carefully, he sat down and pulled her against him, rocking her back and forth for hours, wordlessly.

  Once she found her strength again, some kind of composure, she couldn’t meet his eyes. Any time he touched her, it took her a second to relax into his hold and more times than not she’d find a reason to fidget, move away.

  Right now they were in the stance they had spent most of the last forty-eight hours in.

  He was leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees, his head down, every sculpted muscle in his chest glinting in the dim light, and she was in sweats, his. An extra-large sweatshirt, his.

  “I know...” He looked up at her, and tilted his head. “I knew the second I heard your voice. Hell, I think I knew before—when you didn’t answer when I called.”

  Declan’s instinct had yet to fail him. He regretted letting her out of his sight, letting her come back to take some stupid fucking tests.

  Her gaze met his from across the room, emotionless. She’d slipped somewhere deep inside. She was coping—again trying to understand how she’d landed where she was.

  He dropped his head again and fisted his hands together. “You gotta stop worrying about me...”

  It wasn’t what he said, it was the sharp, cold tone he used that caused the dull haze across her eyes to flip to awareness.

  She saw him tense, him furrow his brow, a twitching wave slid through his tense, toned skin.

  “Every time you do...you split us.” He lifted his gray gaze somewhat shocked to find her interested in what he was saying, aware.

  He’d done all he could do to prove the others wrong, to show them that he was not too big of an ass and she was not too stubborn for this to hurt them, divide them, that they could take it, but he’d failed.

  All weekend, when he saw her flinch in pain, anger struck him into silence. When she saw his fury she dove deeper inside, and became even more distant. He wasn’t a fool; he knew this was not something a few days would solve. But at the same time, he wasn’t ready for it to get worse before it became better.

&n
bsp; “That’s what I can’t take,” he said. “Not what happened.” He turned his head in a furious, sharp fashion, clenching his jaw in frustration. “Not the fact that I wasn’t here to keep you safe. Not hating that you’re alone. Hate—that’s not it, baby...it’s that you split us.” His stare met hers. “I know you’re strong. I do.”

  Her eyes welled, and she shook her head in denial. She wasn’t strong. Not then. She didn’t feel so then. Even looking at him now. This man that she had the deepest love for...she still wanted death. A start over. She wanted the suffocation of the stress she felt engulfing her to shatter, freedom from existence. “I can’t talk about it. Ever.”

  His eyes watered then. Declan wanted her to tell him he was wrong, that what he knew in his gut had happened didn’t. He was sure Murdock had ‘mugged her,’ but he was also sure more happened, something so horrific if he dared to think about it the rage would be too much to handle.

  He hated this. He did. His wrath was barely contained, it was shaking his very core.

  Sometimes he was sure the storm that rolled into town years ago never left, because that is what his life had felt like since then. Nothing was in its right place. Nothing was safe. There were no certainties.

  He breathed in, nodded stiffly once then looked down, the one tear he let fall fell silently to the floor. “I love you...nothing can change that.”

  She crawled to the end of the bed and then took the one step between him and her, crawling into his lap.

  He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her neck as he rocked her, careful not to touch or go near the bruises he knew she was hiding.

  He held her all night, until moments before he had to go.

  “Come with me,” he pleaded.

  She wanted to, she did. But she knew if she went with him—one way or another he’d know for sure what she went through and it would hurt him on his mission—distract him. She needed time to heal, to get her emotions in check.

  She glanced away. “I just. I need a second.” She dropped her head. “I have some stuff at school—” She stopped when he looked away in his classic ticked gesture.

  “How long?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she whispered.

  “It’s not safe here,” he said, letting more than one emotion hit his stare.

  “It is, you just—”

  He cut her off. “You think Providence is here to fish? To hang out? Why do you think a hired gun like him would care to be here? It’s not safe.”

  Her gaze questioned him and he knew he had already said too much, more than he was allowed to.

  “I don’t want you near the Souters and that can only happen when you’re with me.”

  She shook her head. “There you go again. Thinking I’m weak.”

  “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.”

  ***

  When 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.