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  “Want it for you, son. Want it for you.”

  Declan wasn’t a fan of waiting on anything. Waiting longer for his time to stand up would have been hell. Even now waiting to figure out who he was going to be in four years was hell on him.

  Invisibility. Tobias proved, unwillingly, that even a Rawlings could take hits. But he also proved that stand, fall, or climb back up—Rawlings did so with pride, with honor. Declan was ready to fall into line. To live in the stories he’d heard since before he could remember.

  “Yeah, I guess,” Atticus said, looking over Declan. “He don’t seem too worried about Nolan.”

  Because Nolan is about to go on a three-month drunk,” Declan thought.

  “When you gonna tell him?” Atticus asked as a sly grin eased across his young face.

  Each boy had their strong suit; Atticus had always been the observer. He’d still knock the shit out of you if you pushed, but for the most part, he was just obsessed with the human condition. Boon was the hit first ask questions later kind of guy, the rowdy baby. Tobias was the stoic charmer, and Nolan was the free spirit.

  And then there was Declan.

  He had Nolan’s craving for adventure, Atticus’s will to watch, Boon’s temper, and Tobias’s stoic persona...the charm was lost on him, though. And somewhere in there was all him, a part he was still trying to understand. A part that only surfaced around Justice.

  “Not my story to tell, that’s Nolan’s grief.”

  “Right, so, when you graduate from camp you’re just gonna look at daddy and be like ‘that’s right! I forgot to tell ya, Nolan is a hippy now. He’ll be home directly, though.’”

  A grin busted across Declan’s face as he kept to his task of packing. “Somethin’ like that.” He glanced back to Atticus. “I need a favor.”

  Atticus raised his brow. Declan never asked for anything. He was the guy you went to needing a favor. “What’s that?”

  “Justice.”

  “I knew it,” Atticus said failing to hide a rakish grin.

  Declan shook his head, trying to downplay whatever scandalous thoughts Atticus had. Even though the fact he’d bothered to mention her already made it a big deal. “I need this between us, your word.”

  Atticus sat up and stared down his brother with a critical eye. “What’s up?”

  “Look out for her. If you see something off, tell somebody.”

  “Like that Sheriff who is up her ass?” he said with a pissed ‘whatever’ nod. “Or how ‘bout her boyfriend who is right beside him—you know, the jackass who walked away clean from penalty for a fight he started and Nolan finished?” Atticus’s stare questioned Declan, wondering what he knew that was so bad.

  “They’re not together, and Monty didn’t do a damn thing to help her mother—why would he help her daughter?”

  “True ‘dat,” he said at length. “Tell dad?”

  “Yeah, that or Tobias. Gramps will know what to do, too. Just be sly about it. Don’t embarrass her.”

  He nodded at him. “What’s going on?”

  Declan shook his head. “She was banged up the other day, said she fell.” Not wanting to get his family in her business unless they had to be, he lied, played it down. “I’m sure she did, but still. She’s too stubborn for her own good.”

  “Met a guy like that once,” Atticus said with a bemused expression.

  Declan punched him in the shoulder. “I mean it. Nolan isn’t going to be here over the summer and even if he decides to come back he won’t be in school with her next year—you will be.”

  “And how in the hell am I s‘posed to watch out for her this summer? You’re awful worried about it. If you weren’t you would’ve waited till the Rally to tell me to look out for her at school.”

  Declan tossed a third of his last check at Atticus, he was giving the rest to Nolan. “Eat a lot of breakfast.”

  Justice waited tables at the diner on Main, the breakfast crowd, more so during the summer than during the school year.

  “Use those observation skills of yours and make sure she’s right.”

  “You want me to tell you about it when I write?”

  Declan hesitated before he zipped his bag up. “Ask me in thirteen weeks.”

  “Right then,” Atticus said, standing up. He gave his brother a full body hug, then left before Declan saw how much he didn’t want him to leave.

  Not long after, Declan had placed his packed bag by the door, had a heart to heart with Boon, basically telling him, for the millionth time, to never swing first but last.

  Tobias had said his goodbye earlier when he put Declan through a workout from hell. Declan knew he wouldn’t see him again before he left—it was too hard on him. He missed the corps, would give anything to still be there.

  “Instinct,” Tobias had said, causing Declan to tense. He’d been thinking too much about his own lately. “Listen to the Rawlings in you no matter what.” Tobias’s gaze drifted away, into a past he still felt like he was standing in, one that still made him flinch if a sound caught him off guard or if someone brushed up against him the wrong way. “It wasn’t luck that caused me to fall out of the helicopter, flat on my back, from fifty feet in the air.” He looked right at Declan. “I moved. Right when I felt the prickle of awareness, I moved and because I did I was knocked out.” He closed his eyes thinking of those with him who’d never see another sunrise, hold a woman. Those who died too young. “If I hadn’t...just listen, Declan. Never doubt it.”

  Declan nodded stiffly then pulled his brother to him, and did his best to not let his eyes water, but they did. Then they walked away from with each other, only offering a glance over their shoulder as they did.

  Declan was reveling in his own thoughts as he paced and waited on Nolan to pick him up. He wanted to see Justice. It was killing him that he couldn’t, but he knew it was best at the same time.

  Every time he’d seen her at a distance across the last week she seemed calm, settled. Her grandmother was right there with her. Her father and Murdock seemed more focused on how others were seeing them—the All-American men helping their town in a time of need. Declan tried to tell himself his own mind had exaggerated the hell Justice was living in, even though his God-given instinct was telling him he was a fool.

  Nolan pulled up twenty minutes late from when he was supposed to meet Declan, which was his on time. They were both going by their grandparents’ and a few aunts and uncles to say bye once more. And maybe hit up a few friends, easier said than done because Declan was making sure he avoided anything that even looked like a hangover, which was hard to do when there were near constant graduation parties.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Declan asked coldly. They had not been buddies for the last few days. Declan wanted him to come clean with their dad and Nolan wanted him to fess up to what went down in the closet with Justice. And both were too stubborn to move on either topic.

  “Getting ready to go—alone, thanks to you.”

  “This is old. I told you I had to sign, I needed to,” Declan snapped.

  Nolan pulled his shoulders back and stepped up to Declan. “And I had a take on Justice.”

  “Fuck you.” Declan knew why Nolan was mad, and Declan knew Nolan had every right to be. Declan had no business messing with Justice’s heart days before he left. It was a sin he’d never forgive himself for. “Even you said your take was bullshit.”

  “Maybe so, but your loyal ass was supposed to deal with it.”

  “You got a thing for Justice?” Declan’s tone was dripping with menace. “Planning on hitting her up before you vanished? Did I mess that up for you, bro?”

  It was a low blow, too low. Declan knew damn well Nolan was still shattered over Dawson Tomorrow, a girl who broke him—and Justice sure as hell didn’t deserve to be classified as a hookup, with anyone.

  Nolan shoved him. And wanting the fight because he was entirely too frustrated over Justice Rose, Declan pushed back, and twice as hard. “Answer me,” Decl
an growled. “You got a thing or not?”

  Nolan sneered and got in his brother’s face. “Love her like a sister, and I know she has too much shit to deal with to add your bad boy melodramatic drama to her plate.”

  “Melodramatic? Fuck you. If anyone is acting like a girl, it’s you!”

  “A girl! You mean because I don’t see the need to sign away four years—more than likely more—of my life? Because I don’t want to fight for something I’m not sure of?”

  “Now you have an issue with the Marines? Let me tell you, fucker, if you do, you’re in the wrong fucking family.”

  “Not the soldier,” Nolan spat. “The suit signing the orders like casualties ain’t shit. I have an issue with the fact that no matter when the contract is up I will never be out. I have an issue with losing a part of myself, a friend or two.”

  Declan nodded. “You sure as fuck won’t be saving any lives either.”

  Nolan shook his head as a pissed smirk came to him. “I’m with you, brother. It’s all about making a difference, to stand because you are able, because the weak need you to. It’s just not me.” He put his hands on his hips and swayed his head before staring into the distance. “You were born yelling semper fi to the Marines. And I was born fighting for life, wanting to live it. And right now that’s what we’re doing, like it or not.”

  The pause was cold and tense and when Declan didn’t say anything Nolan went on. “School isn’t me either. I’m going to end up running daddy’s bar, gramps’ garage, or even the construction crap Tobias is talking about. I’ll marry some girl and have a mess of hellions and be the happiest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet. But right now, I’m getting out. I’m going to go and see this country my family has fought for. Every stitch of it. I’m going to put my foot on every continent and soak in the fact that I’m alive, that I can do so, because of men like you. That’s my way.” Nolan sighed. “I got enough cash with all the graduation shit to make it a good two years. To half the places I want to see. Along the way, I’ll work some more, pick up a job or two. Make a friend. And then when it’s done, I’m home.”

  Declan shook his head.

  “I wanted you with me.” A pained grin came to Nolan. “We would’ve had a time.”

  Declan dipped his head then looked in the other direction, unable to meet his eyes. “I just need to do this first. Then...then me and you will take a trip or two.” He grinned. “Then we’ll run this town.”

  Nolan rocked back on his heels. “You’re coming back?” He didn’t mean for his voice to crack, but it did.

  “Anything is possible,” Declan said at length, his thoughts going where they didn’t need to go, to Justice Rose.

  Reading Declan like any other time Nolan spoke up. “Daddy was on point—right girl, wrong time.”

  Declan glanced to him, not surprised Nolan had overheard their dad.

  “The ‘take’ was there so you would not break her. And you will, Declan. You push away anything that’s not black and white, what you don’t get.” He stared Declan down. “I don’t know if this deal with the Marines is gonna help you with that or make it worse, but there was no sense in her handling you right now.”

  “Right,” Declan said.

  “Right, then. My ‘take’ is back in place until I say otherwise. I will kick your ass, somehow, someway, if you break it again.” He grinned when Declan glared. “What? I know people.” He lifted his brow. “You can’t fight us all.”

  “Depends on what we’re fighting about,” Declan said, tossing his bag in the back of his own truck then making his way to the passenger side of Nolan’s and slamming the door shut.

  He was pissed because Nolan was right and he was pissed that he would need someone like Nolan, who knew him better than his own self, to tell him when he was right for his rose.

  When Nolan finally got in they made their rounds, telling everyone bye, which sucked because even when Nolan was staring his grandmother in the eye, he made no effort to discount the assumption he was going anywhere but with Declan.

  Nash Rawlings, their grandfather, had the same knowing remarks, doors wide open for Nolan to fess up, but he didn’t. However, Nolan had no issue taking the extra cash Nash slid in his hand.

  On the way back to their place hours later Declan spouted, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to have all your money on you.”

  “Gotta account,” he said, reaching over and tapping the glove box and handing Declan a stack of deposit slips. “You know, in case you want to contribute to the ‘free love’ tour.”

  “Contribute? I’m your only sponsor.”

  “You’re my only aware sponsor,” Nolan said, pointing at him.

  “I don’t like it. I got a bad feeling.”

  “I know you’re going to miss me because I’m adorable, but there comes a time when you’re gonna have to walk your own path,” Nolan teased in the most sarcastic tone he could manage.

  “It’s more than that and you know it. The whole time I’m home after camp is going to be a shit storm because everyone is going to give me hell about covering for you. We won’t live this down until the day we die.”

  “True enough.”

  Declan raised his hands in a pissed gesture.

  “Relax, they know.”

  “I’m sure they do, but that is not the point. The point is you didn’t tell them. And you pushed my loyalty button so I couldn’t and now here we are. All you gotta do is say it, they will give you shit but it’s not like they’re going to stop you.”

  “Maybe not, then again maybe somebody might be too convincing about how it would be best for me to stick around, help out this summer, then summer will turn into fall. Shall I go on?” he asked, with a lazy slant of his head to the side.

  Declan shook his head and leaned into the door.

  “Relax, I wrote a letter. Before you come back through they will be over it.”

  “A what?”

  “A letter, pen and paper. I know it’s old school, but when I want them to read it I will be nowhere near a plug. I told them why I did it and how I swore you to keep my secret.” Nolan glanced at Declan. “They know you well enough to know you didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “If you ain’t gotta plug you’re not going to have a mailbox either,” Declan said, pointing out that he thought it was cowardly for Nolan to not look his dad in the eye, or their grandparents. A phone call would have still been cowardly but at least he would’ve heard the emotion in their voice. A letter? The sentiment was nice, but still. It wasn’t how the Rawlings’ clan rolled.

  Nolan had been plotting this deal for years, making plans every time he met someone on a retreat, saving money, mapping out his path which meant for years he plotted to lie to the people he loved the most, and a letter was his solution.

  Declan reached in his back pocket and pulled out the mail that came for Nolan that day—that Declan barely hid from their dad. “You’re not going to get very far without this,” he said, tossing it at Nolan. “That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about—you gotta think ten steps ahead, always, especially if you’re on your own. You can’t do this shit where you get all gooey eyed about where you are or what you’re doing and just lose track of time and space.”

  Nolan glanced down at the letter, knowing it was his passport. He reached and put it behind his visor. “I had a fake one ready to go, boss. Just because I believe in free love does not mean I have no fucking survival sense—I am a Rawlings.”

  “Not according to your fake IDs that would have gotten you arrested if you tried to use them at the border,” Declan spat back.

  Nolan only had a few fake IDs that he used when he was out of town, and having his wrong name on them was done so he had a prayer he could talk his way out of trouble before they called his father.

  The one he’d made to cross the border was his most convincing one, and the closest to this name—he’d paid good money for that joker.

  Before Declan could continue his rant, a
truck flashed its high beams just behind them. And then there was a loud ‘thump’ followed by another, then another, and then something flew in through the back window that was only open a foot or so, and hit the gearshift.

  Nolan hit the brakes and then spun the truck right as Declan figured out it was baseballs being thrown at them.

  “Fucking Murdock!” Declan raged.

  “Naw, it’s Faith’s boy. Murdock is just along for the ride.”

  “What the fuck ever,” Declan said as Nolan successfully blocked the one lane country road causing the truck behind them to skid to the side, barely missing Nolan’s truck.

  The dead of night was illuminated by crisscrossed headlights from the two massive trucks.

  With a murderous scowl Declan flew from the truck with Nolan right on his heels. Both the driver, Jacks—Faith’s on again off again boyfriend—and Murdock were drunk and laughing their asses off.

  Jacks raised his hands. “Just fucking with you man. I thought Faith was with you, she wanted me to act jealous, so there.”

  “So you fucking hit my truck?” Nolan said with a snarl that was still trying to size up this deal. Faith was a girl Nolan had spent some time with in the past, not much, but enough. It ended wickedly.

  Declan charged toward the passenger side and ripped Murdock out then threw a punch right at his chest, with the ball in his hand, dropping it as he did so. Declan was inch from Murdock’s face when he said, “You dropped this, fucker!”

  Murdock bent forward with the blow as Jacks and Nolan charged around the truck, trying to stop the fight before it got out of hand and someone really got hurt.

  “Hey, hey, now boys, we’ve just had our drink on too long, let’s not get all crazy!” Jacks yelled.

  Murdock grew a pair and slugged Declan who managed to catch his fist, then in a beat he hit him in the jaw, flinging him down to the ground. Declan pulled him up again and slammed him against the front of the truck.

  Nolan held Jacks back. He didn’t plan to let Declan go too far, for obvious reasons, but he knew stopping him now was more than dangerous. Declan had a vendetta.