by Jamie Magee
“Just so you know, if you hear something harsh, I got over it...usually within seconds.”
He lifted a brow.
She slid the first image on the iPod. It was one of all seven test she had taken, the next was a side view of her with the date.
“After every day there’s like a minute or two video diary.” A quivering breath left her. “I didn’t want you to miss it.” She looked up at him. “I was mad as hell at you but I couldn’t take it from you.”
“You still did it by yourself,” he said as disdain for himself flashed in his gray eyes.
“Only because I wanted to, because I was stubborn.” She reached her hand to his chest. “Boon stays here,” she said and smiled. “Another day you might find his reaction to the drive to the hospital a bit amusing.”
“He—he was there?” Declan was jealous as hell—but he was grateful, too.
She nodded. “I called your dad, too.”
Declan dropped his head. “I want to hold Nolan...”
Her eyes welled, not surprised he knew what she called him. She took his hand and pulled him toward the house, feeling him tremble slightly.
Dawson nodded at him when he came in, then grabbed her keys to leave. Bell was with her. She only patted Declan on the chest as she passed him. In shock, Declan watched her get in the truck he had been cursing since he got there. Then he kicked himself for ever thinking Justice would boot him, even when he deserved it.
Upstairs, nestled in his crib, little Nolan was sound asleep. At first Declan only stared, disbelief washing over him. He was still mad, still hurt, and still full of grief but all of it faded, was forgotten. Life as he knew it was never going to be the same again.
Justice carefully lifted Nolan, and when she placed him in Declan’s unsure arms, Nolan woke and looked up at him.
“A Rawlings through and through,” Declan whispered to him as he decided he felt safe enough to sway him.
Twenty-Three
Hours later, after settling little Nolan down again and answering the slew of texts from Declan’s family, she made her way back to him.
Declan was leaned forward on his knees scrolling. From a distance she could hear her own voice. She couldn’t even remember what she had said but it must have been amusing because he smiled, a sad one, but a smile.
He looked up right as she approached, just before she reached him he went to his knees and looked up at her as his hands clutched her hips. “Let me give you forever, marry me...”
Her hands reached to cup his face. And after a breath she said, “Ask me again when you’ve had an easier day,” When she saw anger flash in his eyes, she reached to trace the base of his lip. “My answer will be yes then, too.”
Before she knew it he was standing, his lips were on hers and he was spinning her in the small space.
Carefully, he laid her down across her bed as his kiss went savage, then as his hand dipped between her legs, he suddenly stopped. “Is this okay,” he whispered, really having no idea if it was or not.
Her hand landed on his, moving it back into place. “Careful...like the storm.”
His eyes fell to hers and looking down at her he did feel like they were back in that closet feeling and hearing the world shattering all around them but not caring because in each others arms they had found a hope of tomorrow.
Each sway of his hand was just as careful then as it was years ago, and instead of his lips falling across her bruises, they fell across the barely there battle scars across her stomach.
“I love this fire,” he said as his lips slid across her chest and he felt the heat of her skin chasing him.
A breath later he was seated deep inside and only his kiss held her cry of passion at bay.
“My Justice,” he breathed, as he moved even deeper.
He was home...
***
If Justice had learned to do or be anything as she spent time with the Rawlings it was to become bold and brave. Which is what she embodied as all of Declan’s brothers, his grandparents, and his father each pulled up at seven the next morning.
Bell and Justice had been in the kitchen for an hour already making a breakfast feast. Declan was sound asleep upstairs, little Nolan a few feet away in his bassinette.
When they all came in they were not loud or rambunctious the way they always were. Their steps were quiet and their words were a whisper. Most of them had dealt with their grief in one way or another over the years, and the letters had walked them down the same path months before but now it was final—Nolan’s funeral had finally come.
Most everyone was settled around the table, or where they wanted to stand and pace. Justice was on her way to wake Declan when she heard him from around the corner. “Babe, you’re going to have to check this. I don’t know if I got it right.” She could hear the laugh in his voice. “Looks right to us, though, right boss. Oorah...”
A beat later Declan rounded the corner with little Nolan in his arms, his onesy unbuttoned and the fasteners to his diaper looking a little too loose as far as Justice was concerned.
Before she could say anything Declan looked up and his smile faded a bit as his gaze landed on his family.
Chasen cleared his throat as he stepped forward. “Not too bad for your first go, daddy, but let me warn you,” he reached to fasten the diaper a little tighter, “you want this on lock down, and keep a weather eye on it, they leak anyhow.” He fasted the buttons on the outfit. “Got to keep ‘em warm, too. But ‘for long he’ll be runnin’ ‘round in nothing but that diaper more than likely covered head to toe in mud.”
Declan clenched his jaw, his skin flushed a bit, the room was tense—so much so that a breath was hard to take.
“Good thing I got you to show me the ropes, then,” Declan finally said.
Chasen reached to pull Declan into a sideways huge then leaned his forehead to his. “Welcome home,” then not being able to handle it he turned and cleared his throat acting as if he was only after his coffee cup.
There was no apology, there was no anger, Declan simply letting his wall down, with one sentence that would seem common under any other circumstances erased a family feud that had lasted the better part of two years.
His brothers approached him, so did his grandparents.
All through breakfast, not even when strongly urged to do so, Declan did not put little Nolan down.
Not long after breakfast when the house was settling a bit, and Justice heard the rumble of male voices and laughter she loved so much, Providence showed up.
“What’s going on?” Declan asked, reading his friend’s face as he stepped out of his truck and made it to where Declan was sitting on the screened in porch.
“The Sheriff wants you down at the station.”
Declan’s gaze searched Providence, looking for the unspoken reference. The last person on earth Declan wanted to see was a Souter, least of all now.
“Why?” Chasen asked, standing, knowing no matter what was going on behind the scenes with any investigation this was a bad idea.
“To identify the truck he reported stolen.”
“How does he even know he’s here?” Chasen demanded.
“Called I guess,” Providence said. “He’s trying to walk this line, get the paperwork settled.” He paused before he went on. “Single car accident is how it’s going down.”
Everyone bowed their heads. Souters were so predicable it was almost comical at times.
“You know what,” Missy said, standing and walking to Declan so she could take little Nolan. “This little guy has never once come to visit my place. Let me take him for a spell, maybe let a cousin or two meet him, and that way you and Justice can take care of what you need to. You can help your daddy with what he needs to handle, too.”
Declan looked to Justice. He knew she’d had no sleep. They’d stayed up talking through it all. What she’d been through, what he was willing to tell her he went through on his last tour.
She’d asked him if he b
elieved it now, if he could grieve for Nolan, find peace...he never answered, he just didn’t know. The tips of her fingers tracing his eyes had ushered him into his first deep sleep since he left her side, and she was up and about when he woke.
He felt guilty as hell she had done any of this on her own, and right now only wanted to send her to bed, and spend time with their son, staring at him, understanding him—focusing on a tomorrow.
This idea, little Nolan leaving his sight, Justice having to face the Souters—Declan hated it.
His classic instinct was telling him it was not good, not at all. His gaze landed on her, a gaze that argued for a few seconds, her telling him he was safe, she was, and him disagreeing.
“I think a visit is overdue,” Justice said quietly, walking to him. “I’ve been stingy with Nolan.”
“Rightly so,” he said with a grunt. “Precious cargo.”
Justice arched a brow. “Do you think anyone would dare cross Nash or Missy Rawlings?” There was a smile and a tease in her tone, there for the others to hear, but her gaze was coaching him, letting him know all was well. They were fine.
Boon looked at his daddy, a question in his gaze. The answer came fast, one nod toward little Nolan.
“I’ll go with ‘em,” Boon said, patting Declan on the shoulder. “I rock at changing diapers and heating those bottle things up,” Boon made a face at Nolan who turned his tiny head toward his father’s chest.
Declan glanced up to Boon, the man he’d become, and nodded stiffly.
Hours later little Nolan was packed for his first visit and driving away with Nash, Missy, and Boon.
Justice went with the boys to the station.
She was sure it was out of spite but they were kept waiting, for hours.
So long that Dawson ended up getting a late lunch or what could be known as dinner for everyone.
In the middle of eating, a deputy called Declan back. The only one he’d let come with him was Providence.
“You good, man?” Providence asked as they walked a few steps behind the deputy through the impound lot.
Declan shook his head. “He can’t be gone. You don’t get it—if anyone could have gotten out of a truck, it would have been him.”
“Then what?” Providence asked, stopping Declan.
“You tell me. You’re the one with all the leads.”
“Ghost trails,” Providence said.
“Nothing feels closed to me.”
“It needs to. You got a woman and a son. New chapters starting up.”
That he did. For close to two years now Declan had been planning his tomorrows. Providence was making a killing as a bounty hunter, had more work than he could handle. Tobias was already hunting, too. Declan had a spot waiting on him.
The job by no means was as safe as sitting behind a bar with his dad, or a garage with his grandfather or any construction job he could get. But it would put the warrior in him to good use. He’d have more control, he’d call the jobs he’d take and the ones he wouldn’t. And under it all, he’d play his roll as an informant, and watch as the Souter’s fell, one by one. Until the moment his town was one he wanted his son to grow up in.
“You want a Rawlings with you because you trust the instinct, mine says this was no accident and it says it’s not over,” Declan argued.
“And that right there can take you in two different directions.”
Declan shook his head and walked on. He’d worry about that down the road, right now he wanted out of this fucking station and to be home with his son and his woman.
Providence gripped his arm, and jerked him back. “We’re going to push on Murdock about what he did to your girl when we’re ready to take this house of cards down. He’ll be the first to fall.”
Declan stared him down, ultimately deciding he trusted him. It was no secret that even when Declan signed on with Providence he’d still be hunting for revenge. He’d spent one too many months thinking about all the hell the Souters had put his family through. About everything Murdock had done to Justice.
“Any day now,” the deputy yelled from down the way.
Declan stuffed his emotions down and walked forward, only offering one calm nod at Providence.
Yes, it was his truck. No doubt about it. At a slow prowl Declan circled it. The front windshield was shattered, and pushed deep. The deep scratches gouged down the side caused by the dirt from the river’s bottom had dried making it look any other color than it was.
He pried the toolbox open. When he saw Nolan’s essential gear still in place, he gritted his teeth and slammed it shut.
He wasn’t even listening to what the deputy was saying to Providence, what had been done, processed and found. His mind was stuck on the last ride he took in this truck.
Declan reached for the cab door and Providence tried to stop him.
“It’s been cleared,” the deputy said.
Providence didn’t care if was cleared or not, Declan needed space from this, staring down the place your brother died was not a stellar idea, not this close to coming home.
Declan jerked the door opened and held his breath so he wouldn’t breathe in the river. He reached in looking through the console, all around, for something, anything. He didn’t know.
Then he saw it.
On the floorboard tucked behind the seat, wedged next to the tracks that moved the seat up and back.
When he rose with it in his hand and his stare met Providence—Providence knew a war had just begun.
Blood was going to be shed.
A baseball.
Just one.
It was all Declan needed to tell him why his brother might have veered off the road.
Four years before, when they were in Nolan’s truck that fuck Murdock had thrown baseballs at them, and had a deadly aim.
Coincidences like this—there were no such things.
Twenty-Four
Justice was prowling the hall before the door that Declan went through feeling far too uptight.
“Eat something,” Dawson said.
Justice shook her head, and walked back toward the front. She was determined to get one of the deputies to take her to the back. She knew the last thing Declan could handle right now was seeing what she saw yesterday—that watery coffin being lifted from the river.
She had decided the Sheriff was the devil—the only reason he was doing this was to hurt the family more.
Right as she rounded the corner she slammed right into Murdock. In a beat his hand was on her throat. “Heard you were here.”
She kicked him pushing him across the hall but he was on her again. “Let’s get this over with. I’m going down for arson you are going for murder.” Justice shoved him again but before she could figure out what the fuck his issue was, she heard a punch and watched him fall.
It was Declan. He’d come out of nowhere and lost it. Murdock was fighting back and managed to get a few licks in but it was hopeless for Murdock. Declan was a trained killer, who had found a reason to attack.
Before it was all over, it took four deputies, one at gun point, to get Declan off of Murdock and cuffed. He wasn’t the only one in cuffs. Chasen, Atticus, and Tobias were, too. Even Providence was being held. All of them had tried to stop Declan and the deputies saw it as them causing a riot; one too many punches were thrown.
Murdock lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor. The very sight of it had frozen Justice. She was right back in her father’s shop, smelling the gas, oil, and blood.
“Don’t look, baby!” Declan yelled her way, more than once taking a punch in the ribs from the deputy every time.
“Baby, look at me,” he demanded. Finally, she did, but all she saw was them pulling him away, and every wretched emotion in his gaze.
His brothers and father followed him, all yelling different things out. Providence was calm but was led just the same.
Emergency workers rushed in and all crowded around Murdock who was very much alive, trying to raise up, only to f
all down.
Justice’s mind kicked into gear when she saw the Sheriff at the end of the hall, paying no mind to Murdock but handing out orders to make sure the Rawlings were locked down.
She ran after the Sheriff. “You can’t do this! He was defending me.”
“Defending you?” the Sheriff said as if she were trash that wasn’t worth fighting for. “I don’t know what you do to get those Rawlings’ boys all exited, but I assure you Declan Rawlings is going to be wishing he never met you ‘fore I’m done with him.”
“Are you threatening him?” she yelled in front of everyone. “He was stopping your son from abusing me like he has for years—more than I can say for you!”
The Sheriff turned beet red then grabbed Justice by the arm and led her through the thick double doors. She thought she had gotten somewhere, that he was going to let them all go, but all he was doing was making sure the packed lobby didn’t hear or see them go at it.
“You listen to me you cheap, loose girl—your bullshit threats are not going to work on me. A Marine by definition is a deadly weapon. That one is a loose cannon who attacked for no reason and did not stop when he was ordered to—I will have him put away for attempted murder and I will keep picking and pushing and piling on the bullshit. I’m sick of the corruption and nonsense all of you bring to my town.”
Justice stared at him wide-eyed, dumbfounded that Murdock had never once exaggerated what his father was capable of.
“Get out of my station before I put you behind bars, too—then send child services up your ass.”
He stormed off.
Seconds later, she made her way back to the lobby red with rage but it could’ve been mistaken for any emotion.
“He wont help. He wont stop it,” she said to whoever was listening, which was a packed lobby full of deputies, half of city hall who had just let out of a meeting, and the federal investigators who were wrapping up their missing person case.
