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  “You’re out here fucking throwing balls,” Declan growled, picking him up and slamming him against the truck again. “Drunk off your ass.” He leaned in. “Is it easy for you and your daddy? You just look the other fucking way and go and have a good time?”

  “Fuck you,” Murdock spat, knowing exactly what Declan was talking about, but the way he saw it was Brent Rose had a mean mouth on him but that was about it.

  Did he drink? Yeah.

  Did he lose his balance and knock into people? Sure.

  Had Murdock ever seen him hit Justice? No.

  Was it his business? No.

  Murdock pushed back. “She fucking cry on your shoulder? Tell you her daddy was mean?” He sneered. “She was just yanking your dick man, wanting to get a piece of you before you were a jarhead and shit.”

  Declan’s hard stare raced over Murdock. Murdock was actually smiling, even as blood drizzled from his lip.

  In the background he could hear Nolan putting Jacks in the truck, Jacks yelling for Murdock to come on.

  “Did you get a piece?” Murdock asked, licking the blood on his lip. “It’s sweet ain’t it?” He nodded his head toward him. “Have fun jacking off while I’m hitting that every time I fucking feel like it.”

  Declan reared back to hit him again but Nolan caught his arm. “He’s too shit faced to feel it or know what he’s sayin’.’’

  “You fucking making excuses for this worthless pile of shit?” Declan yelled.

  “No. I’m telling you his daddy is a Sheriff. That you don’t want him making calls on your behalf, not where you’re going tomorrow—if we even get there. He can’t even fight back, one more punch and he’s going to be in the ER and you’re going to get locked up for assault.”

  When Declan only kept his venomous stare on Murdock, Nolan kept on; he knew once you got Declan to listen to you, you just had to keep talking, keep giving him common sense. “When you show ‘em who’s boss you want him to remember it and you want to walk away clean, you know you do.” Nolan pushed him further back. “And you know he’s lying about Justice,” Nolan said in a lower tone.

  Declan’s stare flew to Nolan’s, wondering how he knew.

  “Let’s go,” Nolan said, ushering Declan to the truck and leaving Jacks and Murdock in the middle of the road.

  At home Chasen Rawlings did his best to figure out why his boys were strung tight, and failed. Neither one of them were quick to say anything, meaning whatever it was—it was more than just a tiff. The rest of the night was spent with all of them staring at the crawling clock and barely sleeping.

  Just before dawn, Declan got up for his workout. This time it was his dad who put him through it.

  “Whose ass did you kick last night?” Chasen asked as Declan leaned forward panting for breath.

  Declan shook his head, not denying it but not wanting to talk about it.

  “It was about the Rose girl, right?”

  It sure as hell turned into something about Justice. All night, every second in his head Declan kept hearing Murdock say he was going to be hitting it and the word wrath did not even come close to what Declan felt.

  “I already told you once, son.”

  Declan stood up straight. “I haven’t seen her since that night.”

  “And you’re not going to see her for months to come.”

  Declan shook his head and cussed under his breath. “She’s getting knocked around, Dad.”

  Dad. Not daddy, not pops, which told Chasen his son was absolutely serious. “By Murdock?”

  Declan shook his head. “He sure as hell knows how to look the other way, though.”

  “So does his daddy,” Chasen said with a raised brow.

  “I told Atticus to tell you if he saw something, but she won’t say either way. She’s too tough for her own good.”

  “You listen to me,” Chasen said, getting in his face. “I don’t know what she told you, but you forget it.”

  Declan jarred back and Chasen caught his arms and got in Declan’s face again. “Right now you forget it.”

  “I wasn’t raised that way,” Declan spat.

  Chasen jerked him back, and then got in his face again. “And you think the man who raised you, or your brothers, is going to let something like this go unchecked?”

  Declan felt his entire body relax but then regret slammed into him. If Justice knew he had told anyone about her personal stuff, stuff everyone assumed but didn’t know for sure, she’d kick his ass.

  “She can’t know.”

  Chasen shook his head. “No one is going to cause any trouble.” He cursed. “Sometimes things like this go away with time.”

  “A year before she’s eighteen, Dad. A day is too long.”

  Chasen nodded. “You forget,” he said again. “And if you don’t. If you don’t trust us, I’ll take it as a direct insult and disappointment.”

  All of Chasen’s boys would rather him beat them senseless than hear him say he was disappointed in them.

  Declan nodded stiffly.

  “Shower up, recruit.”

  And he did.

  By the time the sun was rising, turning the horizon into that dusky gray, him and Nolan were side by side in Declan’s truck driving toward town.

  “Pull over up here,” Nolan said causally, right before they were passing the last gas station in town.

  Declan did so without thought. He was in his own world, trying to do what his dad told him to do—forget it, trust his family to look out for Justice. Justice was the kind of girl who needed someone to stand up with her, not for her. He knew is his family could do that.

  If the Rawlings’ knew how to do anything, it was to draw out the bravery in who they were with. They helped them see that sometimes, even if it sucked, ripped you to pieces, you needed to stand and fight for what matters. And sometimes what matters is nothing more than self-respect, fighting for the peace you deserve.

  Nolan pointed for him to go into the side parking lot.

  “What’s up?” Declan asked.

  “Hungry. Be right back,” he said, bailing out the door before he even finished his words. A beat later her was jogging across the street to the diner.

  Declan raised his hands in a pissed, confused gesture, then slammed them down on the steering wheel.

  A few seconds later, he saw her...

  Eight

  In the dawn of the morning sun, Justice was sitting on the top of a picnic table set up behind the gas station, quietly reading a book.

  Today she wasn’t in a summer dress; she was wearing well-worn blue jeans, a dark top, and an apron she had folded down.

  Her braid, the method she used to tame her wild curls, was tighter than he had ever seen it, then again, he’d never really seen her quite so early in the morning.

  She wasn’t looking his way, and there wasn’t a soul near her. What cars were out and about were the way Nolan went, grabbing breakfast before a long day.

  Declan hesitated. He could feel two parts of him ripping. One saying let it go for now, and the other begging for just one more look in her eyes.

  The latter side won as he slung his door open. At first, he all but marched toward her, marked irritation in every move of his body. Like he was mad she was there and she made him feel again. Then he realized he was mad for that very reason and stopped abruptly.

  He glanced over his shoulder in the direction his brother went knowing right then, more than ever, Nolan was right. This wasn’t right for anyone right now.

  Still, Declan wanted one more look. Aware of himself he walked forward. She didn’t look up until he was right up on her and when she did she jarred back and grasped her chest, barely stifling a scream. Then with a shaky smile she pulled her headphones out.

  “You scared me.”

  “What are you doing here?” he asked in the clipped tone he was known to use.

  “Um,” she stalled, glancing around the parking lot. “Are you alone?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” />
  “No reason, ju—just curious is all,” she said as the flush rose color he adored so much eased over her soft skin.

  “Why are you here?” he asked again, as if she’d walked into his house, into his space.

  She nodded across the way. “I work there.”

  He knew that. But the diner was across the street and up a building or two. It made no sense for her to be behind a gas station that backed up to a low-rent neighborhood that had its fair share of trouble. He didn’t care that it was dawn, in a town they both grew up in, shit happens. And the last thing this girl needed was more drama.

  “Why back here?” he asked, glaring in the distance. He was almost sure he saw Jacks’ truck parked in a ditch a block away. All kinds of horrid thoughts were running through Declan’s head—him thinking after their riff last night Murdock decided to see where he could get with Justice. Anything was possible.

  “I was meeting somebody before I went in for my shift.”

  “Meeting someone?” he repeated sharply, noticing how she wouldn’t meet his eyes when she said it which made his head go wild. For all he knew she was a pro at sneaking around and had some non-daddy approved boy meeting her when he could on the sly. “Who?”

  “I thought you left,” she said, failing to hide both the sorrow and excitement in her tone, and ignoring his question.

  “Am now,” he nodded toward her. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” she said, glancing away.

  “I tried calling you,” he said abruptly. He’d even tried last night when he got home, letting it ring twice before he hung up.

  She blushed deeper. “Yeah, it’s been crazy. You know, community clean up stuff.” Basically, she meant she had made sure she had stayed in a crowd since she saw him last. Every time Declan had called, she was either with her dad or Murdock. One time, even the Sheriff.

  This morning when she saw his number she assumed by the time it was an accidental call, that or one made as he was leaving town.

  “I called you back, a few times.” This morning she had listened to his out going message on his voice mail a time or two, the sound of his voice...

  Declan furrowed his brow. The only time he didn’t have his phone was when he was asleep or working out. The idea that anyone had jacked with his phone pissed him off.

  He had rehearsed exactly what he was going to say to her. He was going to tell her, in essence, what he kept hearing, all about the timing. He was going to pull the friend card, ‘fun while it lasted, I’ll have your back if it gets crazy.’

  It was cowardly, but he knew he could say it on the phone and not change his course, so when he figured he wasn’t getting a second alone with her, he was almost good with it, even though he craved her like a dying man wanting one more breath just to feel it ease through his lungs.

  Saying his rehearsed speech as coldly as he planned, point blank, was not possible when looking at her. It was a battle he had no hope of winning from the gate.

  “I didn’t see it,” he said, not even bothering to check his phone. No, he wasn’t going to waste one second that could be spent soaking in the sight of her.

  She nodded toward the highway. “So this is it, your day.”

  Declan didn’t smile. “Listen to me,” he said sharply. He clenched his jaw before he spoke, then lifted both his brows. “You deploy any and all defense you need when you need it. Don’t question if it’s right or wrong. Don’t doubt your strength or your worth. No one lays a hand on you. You hear me?”

  Justice swallowed nervously as fire bloomed in her belly. In a small way she felt more humiliated than empowered after hearing his words. She’d shown him her wounds, something she never pointed out to anyone, and now he would always see those marks when he looked at her, when he thought of her.

  No one had ever told her to defend herself. Her mother ran, and her grandparents prayed and told her a brighter day was coming. This was new, empowering, and she didn’t know how to process it so she simply nodded ever so slightly.

  “Can I write you?” he asked abruptly.

  Justice arched a brow in shock. She was starting to think she was still dreaming.

  “You don’t have to write back, but yeah,” he said.

  She nodded warily, knowing all this was going to do was stretch out this agony she was sick with.

  Since she’d left his side, it felt like she was walking in a cloud of grief. A heavy feeling that drew out disdain she didn’t even know she had. Everything pushed her. She’d felt this feeling twice over and hated it, but the gift of the past was that it taught her what to expect today.

  She could either choose to tell him no and slowly swim her way through her emotions back to reality, or she could live with the pain longer.

  Declan Rawlings was worth the pain.

  Her gut told her as much even though her mind and heart claimed she was a fool.

  A ghost of a smile graced her lips as she nodded, then marveled at him when she saw him relax as if he had been holding his breath.

  “Um,” she said, reaching for her bag and digging around. “Send it here,” she said writing down an address. “This is where my mom sends stuff.”

  “Your mom?” he questioned. He had heard things about her, but not much past the part where she ditched her daughter and left her grandparents to fight for her safety.

  Justice nodded like it was nothing, like she just didn’t tell him a secret he doubted many knew.

  Still holding her stare, he took the paper carefully, purposely brushing against her hand before he glided it in his pocket.

  Her gaze darted around the parking lot the first chance she had.

  “Either you’re nervous or you’re looking for somebody.”

  Both. “I didn’t want to be late.”

  He furrowed his brow. “I didn’t mean to keep you.”

  She slid down when he went to step back, and shakily put her hand on his chest to stop him from walking away. “I knew seeing you would be hard, but if I had the chance I wanted it. Thanks for saying hi.”

  Declan bit his lip trying to keep his pissed smirk as he glanced away. “Hi. Yeah, that makes sense.” He met her gaze sharply. “I should have at least said that much, huh.”

  He was sure they had some kind of connection, a moment, and there she was with her thanks speech turning it into a casual fuck. This was why he didn’t trust women, why he got what he wanted and left. No promises. No strings.

  “Did anything happen the other night? Did you get heat for being with me?” he asked, glancing over her, looking for damage.

  “Avoided the topic,” she said honestly.

  “I didn’t want it to end that fast,” Declan quietly admitted.

  She could only stare because she had no idea how to take him. His words were sweet but his tone was anything but.

  In the next beat he was an inch from her face, the heat of his body was a breath from hers and she was sure she could feel a sharp current between them pulling them together with the weight of gravity.

  “I hate this,” he breathed. His head tilted slightly so his gaze could slip down her neck to those dark blonde curls kissing her skin. “We’re bad,” he leaned in bit more, now his lips were brushing against her cheekbone. “Bad timing.”

  She didn’t really hear a damn word he said, she was too focused on how close he was, the feel of his breath, then all at once she couldn’t deal any longer and turned sharply, catching the edge of her lips with the edge of his. In the same beat both his hands were on her face as he moved his lips just right, so he could devour the taste of her.

  It was brief and short but strong and deep enough that Justice was sure she had been given the adrenaline rush of her life.

  This kiss was a risk, out here in the open, just as the town was waking. There was no telling who could be out, glancing in their direction, or whose side of the Stouter and Rawlings’ feud their loyalties would rest.

  Declan dropped his hands as his kiss left but he didn’t move back at f
irst. “I’ll write.”

  She nodded shakily and before she knew it he was gone from before her and across the lot, squealing his tires as he made it across the street to the diner.

  There, Nolan climbed into the passenger seat, waving in her direction. Completely confused she watched them drive away then pulled her pre-paid phone out and check for a missed call from Nolan.

  Nolan was the whole reason she had gotten her grandmother to drop her off an hour early for work. He told her he needed a favor, one she was nervous about, but willing to do.

  All she could think now was he either changed his mind, or the favor was waiting on her in the diner.

  ***

  A half block away, Murdock Souter was sitting in the shadows of a screened in porch on a lime green vinyl couch, trembling with rage.

  Moments before he had staggered to the bathroom, still feeling wasted from the night before, twisted and sick. His glazed eyes stared out the window as he unloaded his bladder, and as he did he saw Declan Rawlings’s truck across the way.

  Murdock was sure the fuck was after him, ready to finish the fight they had started before. At that very second, Murdock couldn’t remember what started the fight much less how it ended, he just knew one thing—he hated Declan.

  Murdock wasn’t a fool. He knew something went down with Declan and Justice, he could read that girl without even trying. He’d been scornfully simmering on the idea for days.

  Not even bothering to tell the girl passed out across her bed bye, he’d grabbed his shirt and made his way out. Right when he reached the edge of the yard he saw them. Declan pulling back from a kiss then walking away in his high and mighty, I don’t give a fuck, way. And there was Justice looking just as sick and pained as he had seen her before when Declan Rawlings was the favored topic.

  Murdock and Justice had never had a real thing, but they had something. They were more than friends, and yet, he’d never once seen her even show an ounce of the emotion toward anything or any one the way she did toward Declan.

  Why she did was lost on Murdock. The guy was a dick and had always been one. Walking around like he was too good to be friends with anyone. Too cool to be bothered with having a good time. The fucking girls ate it up—the bigger the ass he was, the more they would flock.