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  “Fuck them all,” Justice said, feeling her whole body relax, endless stress simply melting away, obliterated. “If we want this it’s ours.”

  He swayed his head. “We gotta be careful. Nolan could pay the price,” he said, slipping down to a squat, still trying to catch his breath.

  She followed him. “What are you talking about?” she asked, reaching for his face, pulling him to face her. It was then, after all the confusion and doubt between them had a chance to subside she saw there was more, something else ripping at him.

  “Can’t find him, and the Sheriff was being a dick. Kept dropping lines on me like I was some fucking pedophile. Not even caring.” He rose again and started to put himself back together the best he could, ending up vanishing into the bathroom for a second.

  Justice paced like a lion waiting on him, but somewhere in the middle of it the smoke alarm went off and she took off toward the kitchen. She didn’t burn the brownies but came close; another burner she left on had caused the sensitive alarm to squawk.

  She’d turned it off and the fan on and was pulling on a hoodie when he made it to the kitchen looking like he was ready to face any enemy.

  “What do you mean you can’t find him?” she asked fanning the smoke out the door.

  “No one’s seen him, not one call, or letter. His phone hasn’t been used in months. He didn’t show up for his first hike.”

  Justice dropped the bowls in her hand in the sink then abruptly looked over her shoulder before turning. She pointed to herself as she made her way to him. “I was supposed to mail the letters.”

  His eyes rapidly searched hers. “What?”

  “Me. He said there was box full and that he had a calendar all mapped out for them for when I needed to mail them.”

  “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know—he was supposed to give them to me the morning I saw you. That’s why I was there. And when he didn’t we texted back and forth.” She walked double time to her bag and pulled out her phone.

  When she found the text she was looking for she gave him the phone.

  “The ditch across the street? Did you look under this porch?”

  “I looked in both places. I mean, it was a few days later when it all died down a little bit that I thought of it, but there was nothing in either place.”

  “Were there a ton of people here, would they have taken them? A Souter?”

  Her first instinct was to deny the possibility, but doing so would win her nothing. “I don’t know. Maybe. I could see them wanting to screw you that way but I don’t get why he’s not answering, or hiking, or here now. He told me he would be here.”

  Panic was setting in. Declan could see it flickering in her blue eyes. She realized what he’d already figured out: she needed Nolan, someone to help her through this hell that Declan now knew was worse than he thought.

  Nolan had a way of letting you talk without making you say a word. He could see demons inside you, or at least he could see Declan’s and Justice’s, and tell you they were not as fierce as you thought. He made you stronger with nothing more than a carefree, understanding smile.

  “I’ll find him,” he swore. “You don’t know when he said to mail them?” Declan had good reason to ask. Nolan had kept a massive amount of details from their family. His keeping a detail like not coming home for the Rally from Declan and explaining why in some letter was a possibility.

  She shook her head. “I just saw him writing them, a different one every day, sometimes a different one every class we had. I should have looked sooner,” she said, cupping her mouth. “Should have told Missy or Atticus...anyone.”

  “It’s not your fault,” he said, pulling her against him. “I gotta go back to the base, file a report there with my dad and them.” He kissed her brow and leaned back, still keeping the majority of their bodies as close as possible. “I gotta go now.” When her worried stare deepened, his thumbs traced her cheeks. “We have to be careful right now. You don’t need the grief. None of us do.”

  She stepped away, just to get air. “Friends. Fine.”

  He pulled her back in front of him. “I don’t have friends like this, Justice. Not ones that rip me open for sport. I said careful, friend was not in the request.” He leaned closer and against her neck he said. “I only want my name to leave your lips when you come undone.” He drew his head up slowly until he met her gaze. “I want to know I’m in your thoughts...I want to know I’m always there.”

  “And what if I wanted the same?”

  He never had a chance to answer. Headlights, more than one set, came up the drive.

  His lips brushed hers, stealing one more kiss. A second later they moved further apart when they heard Missy and Bell’s voices going back and forth outside.

  Declan’s hands squeezed her sides then he moved toward the door.

  Justice was right behind him. She walked her phone to her grandmother as Declan grabbed a box out of the bed of his truck and brought it inside.

  “It’s my fault about the letters,” Justice was explaining to them as another set of truck lights came down the way.

  “I’m sure that’s your daddy and Atticus. Atticus is taking Nolan’s truck back,” Missy said to Declan, causing Justice to turn white as a ghost. This was it. That was all she got, and now he’d be gone all over again.

  A high and a low...no in between.

  Both Justice and Declan met each other’s stare as Bell and Missy vanished inside to give the young couple at least a second to say goodbye.

  Declan, especially knowing it was going to be a long while before he was able to see Justice again, might have taken advantage of any time he could. But he knew his father’s truck in any light, and that wasn’t it. It sat too low.

  It was Murdock’s.

  Almost immediately, Declan decided he didn’t like the way Murdock was looking at him, like he was seeing a ghost. Like Declan was out of place.

  Declan was being tested then, he knew he was. Not only was this the fucking Jody trying to get on his girl, but he was seventeen, too, and the fucking Sheriff’s kid. No matter how good the hit would feel, it would bring damage that was pointless in the larger scheme of things.

  Luckily, seconds behind him was Chasen.

  “Bring in the rest of that now,” Missy said from the door as if Declan had been there moments and had to go immediately.

  Declan did grab two more boxes from the bed of his truck, and once he set them down he hugged his grandmother, all the while keeping is glare on Murdock who was standing by his truck, looking more confused than pissed, which was more than likely why Declan was able to walk away right now. Leave and know he was going to be there with his Justice.

  If Murdock was mad, it would mean he really did have a thing for Justice—more than a status claim, or a dark secret.

  “See you soon, baby,” Missy said to Declan.

  As he walked down the steps, his shoulder brushed by Justice’s, the tips of their fingers touched in the darkness, and a glance was the only good bye they had.

  “You will,” Declan said, walking toward his father’s truck. His gaze sliced into Murdock as he passed him. “Time fucking flies in my world. Months might as well be seconds. The shit will still be real.”

  Murdock didn’t open his smart mouth. Instead, the same flash of relief mixed in with his defensive fear.

  Declan almost asked him what his issue was but his dad called his name, and Atticus was reaching for his keys and a stiff hug goodbye. “I’ll stick around a bit,” he said to Declan in the nicest tone he’d used with him all day. Clearly, Atticus was on team Justice, and Declan taking the time to see her, even in the middle of this family emergency, restored Atticus’s faith in his older brother.

  When Declan sat in the passenger seat of his father’s truck and stared at Justice as they pulled away, the threat and reality that one of their own was missing slammed back to the forefront of his mind.

  He had to bring his brother home. If anyt
hing happened to him...it would be his fault and he’d never forgive himself for not listening to his gut, his instinct.

  Fifteen

  Murdock had heard Declan was in town. More than one person told him, but Murdock didn’t believe them. Not really. Because if Declan Rawlings was alive, then he had officially lost his mind.

  When he pulled down the long drive at Justice’s house and saw Nolan’s truck he was sure everyone in town had mistaken one for the other, something people tended to do more times than not.

  He almost turned around but then he saw the car Justice and her grandmother shared behind the truck and wanted to make sure they were good, and hadn’t walked in on a Rawlings looking for answers.

  Nolan and Declan shared everything, hell for all he knew they had a good ol’ time sharing Justice. She sure as hell looked at them about the same.

  The deal was that even though Nolan and him and gotten into it, Nolan was the level-headed one out of the brothers. So facing off with him, even though it got his blood pumping, he was good with it. Murdock was sure he could at least figure out why no one had been looking for Declan over the last few months.

  Then he saw him.

  Murdock knew by the way he walked, the cut of his hair, and the pained grieving look in Justice’s gaze that it was Declan. The moment Murdock saw him relief washed over him. It felt like the demons that had been perched on his shoulders took a hike.

  He almost hugged the asshole. Murdock wished he hadn’t already finished a six-pack. He wanted the clarity to understand this...the blunt he’d been working on for the past hour wasn’t helping matters either.

  Murdock didn’t even hear what Declan was running his mouth about—he was too damn happy to see the fuck alive.

  Then before he knew it every Rawlings but Atticus left like there was some fire they had to put out somewhere.

  “What’s up?” he asked Justice when Atticus walked in her house and sat down at her kitchen table like it was his place.

  Murdock was seriously starting to question what kind of favors these Rawlings were getting from Justice and why he wasn’t on the VIP list—one would think covering up a murder for her would grant him some benefits, but hell no, the girl was always across the room before the idea to touch her ever came to his mind.

  Before Justice could answer, Atticus came outside again, tossing a harsh look at Murdock before getting a flashlight out of Nolan’s truck and taking it to the porch.

  When Murdock saw him looking for something, he sobered up a bit. He remembered what started his night from hell—seeing who he thought was Declan drop something off.

  Murdock grasped Justice’s arm before she could move to help him. “I said what’s going on?” he whispered harshly.

  She jerked her arm away then pushed him. “You lied to me,” she said in a whisper that was just as sharp.

  Because it was so dark, she never saw the panic wash down Murdock’s face, never cared to notice the drunken confusion in his dark gaze. Right then for all he knew Declan had climbed out of his watery grave and was now pointing fingers.

  Murdock had lied a lot, so much that he didn’t even know the truth anymore. He urged her further away from the house. “What are you talking about?”

  “Your daddy! This whole time you’ve been telling me if I told the truth they’d turn it on the Rawlings. Hurt Declan, who had nothing to do with this. And what happens? Your ass was wasted, took me to work late again. Ended up getting me fired and since it was my fault my boss was a dick and someone was nice enough to stand up for me as he called me whore—in front of the whole town—your father called Declan’s sergeant.”

  Murdock shook his head, needing to sober up. “What?”

  “Are you ever sober anymore?” she asked, really looking at him.

  “What did my dad do?”

  “What you said—called and said I was seeing Declan.”

  “You’re seeing him?”

  “Shut the hell up! What else have you lied about? Why is your dad not even trying to help the Rawlings?”

  “With what? Fucking traffic control? Way too many of ‘em runnin’ around.”

  “Not too many, one too less. Nolan is missing.”

  Murdock’s shock was genuine. He glanced at the truck in the drive.

  “He took Declan’s on his trip, and no one’s heard from him and your dad’s being a dick and apparently was weeks back, too. We might as well tell him every fucking thing! Because I swear to God if he is not helping them find Nolan because he thinks you and I are hooking up I’m going to kill you.”

  “Yeah, you’re good at killing people,” he hissed, pushing her further away, finding the sobriety he needed.

  “And you’re good at fucking every whore in this town.”

  “Gotta get it somewhere,” he spat back, earning a sneer from her.

  “What I’m telling you is that people already know we’re only friends. This shit right here, bending the law because you can, because you think your son was slighted, is bullshit—especially when every minute counts.”

  They didn’t count. Murdock’s hell was back, the less than five-minute reprieve was not nearly long enough, so short he wished he never felt the relief—it sucked remembering how life could be. It wasn’t Declan at the bottom of the Savanna River—it was Nolan.

  Fine. Whatever.

  What was bad now was they’d all be looking for him and someone was bound to find him, or the truck. Now more than ever he needed his alibi to hold.

  “What he hell is Atticus doing?”

  “Nolan was supposed to bring me stuff to mail. He didn’t.”

  Murdock lifted his brow.

  Thinking he wasn’t following she went on.

  “I looked where I told him to leave it and it’s not there. Atticus is double checking.”

  Murdock moved his gaze back to her. “I had nothing to do with my dad saying anything to Declan’s people. I don’t even know why he did. But that right there proves my point. Your dad had a lot of friends in this town, and more so, he had friends in this town that would use any excuse to exercise a grudge. You and I are stuck. We are stuck until all those old fucks move on to the by and by and forget your dad existed. There is no time limit on murder. Cut and dry. You turn me in for arson and I will say what I saw. I will say I was sick in love with you and did what I could to keep you safe. I’ll walk away a hero.” He jutted his chin up. “Being called a whore by some fast food grease monkey will be the least of your worries.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “I am,” he said brashly. “I protected you. God knows why. I live with the sick guilt every fucking day. You have ruined my life.” He got in her face. “Yes. I will threaten you if you dare to take what’s left of it away.”

  She stepped back, her gaze racing over him. He may have pushed too far, he was aware of that, but he also knew this girl needed to know he was not playing.

  “You want me to tell my dad I don’t give a fuck who you are letting hit it? You want me bring home a girl for him to meet? You want me to spray paint on the fucking water tower we’re friends without benefits then I fucking will—but our story stays the fucking same unless you’re ready to get locked up, too.

  “You ass.”

  He wanted to say more, something else to lock in their pact, but her grandmother called her name, said it was getting late.

  Yeah, whatever, he could take a hint.

  Fine by him. He was heading to his dad’s office now. He had no choice but to stay in front of all this shit.

  ***

  The months after it was made known that James Nolan Rawlings was missing were a blur for Justice. Not the same kind of blur after her dad died. If anything, the stress of the search helped her bury her deadly summer in some dark place deep inside.

  Now she spent her spare thoughts worrying about her Rawlings’ boys, Noland and Declan.

  Social media had managed to expand the story in every direction. The national news even ran th
e story for all of five minutes one day. The local news kept up the hype for a few weeks but all in all, the search was waning.

  The law said any trail they could have followed was cold long before the report came in.

  The family had not only hired private investigators, but also each leave Declan was able to take, which was next to none, he used to follow the path he did know Nolan had planned on taking.

  Declan meant what he said about him and Justice being careful. For the first few weeks he could only write from where he was, and he never wrote to her, but wrote to his family. Either Atticus or Boon would drop a page off for her at the garage, one that wasn’t addressed to her but clearly written for her eyes.

  Mostly the pages told her what he was doing to find Nolan from where he was, and where he thought he was going to be transferred. The word deploy was now the most terrifying word in Justice’s vocabulary. She didn’t care how short the mission was.

  She’d always send a letter back, just as vague, straightforward, nothing that could ever be used against them. Just like the glances they always passed to each other in school, they learned to read between the lines, see what was hidden from sight but felt.

  After the first half of the fall semester, and it was made clear that Boon was failing all his classes, Justice started to tutor him three days a week. It was part of her personal assistant job at the garage. She made the same amount an hour.

  It helped a lot because since she was in school and she was not bringing home full-time cash anymore, making the ends a littler harder to meet at times.

  If she didn’t save money that year, there was no hope of her getting far in any kind of school. Not that she had a clue what she wanted to do anyways, she just knew she needed something—something she could count on to feed her for the rest of her life.

  It blew Justice’s mind how different Boon was from his brothers. He had the shortest temper, she was sure of as much. She’d seen him get far too frustrated with himself when trying to learn something new to not get a taste of it.

  At the same time, he was sweet. He’d make it a point to make her laugh when he saw how some days her gaze was a bit too dim. He’d pick her wild flowers and leave them on her car seat—then raise his hands in defense when she’d glance at him nervously, hoping she had not sent the wrong signal his way. “I was following orders,” he’d say with a wayward wink.