Deploy (29 page)

Tobias was only managing to hold Declan in place with his gun, something he would never fire, but at the same time, he was telling Declan he was serious, he needed to fucking cool it.

Tobias glanced over his shoulder to where Providence was. It looked like he was having his own serious conversation with Jacks not Murdock. No, Murdock was drinking a beer like he didn’t have a clue that something had just gone down.

“No fucking way,” Tobias said under his breath, furious he hadn’t laid eyes on Murdock in a few days, that he didn’t know what took Declan five seconds to figure out.

Declan fought Tobias as he shoved him in the truck then drove him down the road. He needed him out of sight before anyone got any crazy ideas, including Declan.

They made it half a mile before Declan opened the door as the truck was rolling near forty. He was good with jumping out at that speed, but Tobias slammed on the brakes, giving Declan the way out he wanted.

Tobias rushed out of his door and yelled after Declan. “We’re going to make it right!”

Declan charged back toward him. “How can you make this right?
How
? Fucking tell me, Tobias!” He grunted then punched the truck. “That family takes one punch at us then another.” He hung his head. “They took Nolan—now
this
,” he said, hanging his head. He was trembling with raw emotion.

The Rawlings’ theory had always been if something sinister had happen to Nolan the Souters had covered it up. Getting proof had not helped matters.

“He’s gone, Declan...you need to know that. Accept it.”

Declan swung and hit Tobias and he let him. He fought him, combat style, no weapons on the side of the country road because he knew Declan needed a target. And he wouldn’t think until some of this adrenaline was exhausted.

The truth of the matter was nothing was what it seemed, ever. Brent Rose’s death was a gift to Justice, but it was a curse against the agents who were building a case against those he associated with. Those thought to smuggle shine and cannabis down the river. Crimes hidden in a small town environment, kept secret by every crooked elected official.

The very real theory was that Nolan had seen something he should not have, and the group Rose was hired by dealt with it.

Every time the Sheriff shut down the search for Nolan, every time he lashed out at any Rawlings who asked too many questions or when evidence disappeared, he was pointing the finger at himself. He was digging not only his grave but also the graves of his family, of the assholes in the town who were not as unseen by big brother as they assumed they were.

The very idea that Nolan had been murdered, felt one ounce of pain, and at the hand of a Stouter, or anyone—it was too much for Declan. And what was worse was he couldn’t talk about this with Justice.

He couldn’t tell her how dangerous the town she loved was. All he could do was ask her to come to him, and tell her what he had no choice but to believe—they’d find Nolan one day. This would all be a forgotten nightmare.

Declan blamed himself for what happen to Justice, he should’ve pulled her out of this town the second he knew how corrupt it really was. He knew she needed family, Bell and his own, to help her heal from her past, though. Leaving her sheltered on a base when he was deployed might have stopped the demons they could see coming, but not the ones within. Declan regretted his choice now. He regretted giving her room to run.

“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.

***

B
y 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.

“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.”