She was crying over Declan, and it pissed Murdock off. She was sure he had slept with five girls since then, trying to get her mad or jealous. Neither happened.
“I’d realized how close graduation was for your class. It was a reality check I wasn’t ready for.”
Declan furrowed his brow as his gaze darted over her expression, looking for what she wasn’t saying. Nolan had told him, long before today, that this is how Justice was nowadays. Evasive. Declan’s issue was he didn’t get evasive; he needed bluntness, black and white. It’s wrong or it’s right.
“Murdock leaving next year?” he questioned, trying to pick away at this claim of hers they were not hooking up.
“Not really, Savanna State is the last I heard.”
Which was all of an hour away. Declan was hoping she’d say he was going to be states away.
“Are you going to Parris Island?” she asked, wanting the discussion to flip to him.
He nodded, not really biting. The information helped her, though. The base was just under two hours away. At least he’d be close for the first bit of his contract.
“Why does your daddy like him so much?” he asked.
She shrugged.
Silence filled the small room for a long moment until a rumble of thunder caused her to jar forward.
Declan flinched, not because of the sound, but because his instinct was to reach out for her. He’d barely stopped himself.
Instead, he decided to take her mind off the storm. “What you gonna do next year when you graduate?”
“I don’t know,” she said on a sigh. “Teacher maybe?”
“You don’t know?”
She giggled at his dumfounded expression. “No, Declan, not everyone is born knowing what they are going to do.”
Pride flooded his gaze.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “It’s always been in your eyes. You are your father’s son.”
“It’s my choice,” he said a bit too defensively. He hated how people thought he was doing this because of some family tradition, because it was expected—at least he hated it when Nolan made him feel like that was why.
After a few tense seconds she asked, “Does that mean you’re not scared?”
Admitting it to anyone, especially a girl—and this one to top it off—that he had any fear was not something he was ready to do. Ever.
“Where did that question come from?”
She moved her gaze from him, “I don’t know. I guess I was wondering if once you made a choice if the fear left or if it was still there, just different. A fear you were ready to face, something like that.”
Justice hit nail on the head, but he wasn’t going to say so. He did give her a short, quick nod. “You got a choice to make?”
She re-crossed her outstretched legs as she answered, “Who doesn’t?”
“Choices like getting away from your asshole father? You’re ‘bout to vanish because of that fuck, aren’t you?”
She flinched with the thunder that seemed to punctuate his ire.
Declan couldn’t help it that time. His hand reached for hers as he drew his other knee up and pulled her to lean toward him. “Tell me the storm is making you shake,” he said quietly once the rumble had lessened.
No. It was him, all but pulling her into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Her gaze moved from their hands that were laced together, up his chest, past his broad shoulders, then somehow made it to the storm clouds of his eyes. “Yes.” But it was the storm of him, not the one outside, or the one waiting on her at home.
Four
She’d dropped her gaze again and relaxed against him, which was a lot easier than she’d assumed it would be. Touching him made it easier to talk to him, to absorb him. He felt right against her. Always had.
“I’m not leaving Bradyville,” she said to answer his question that was still lingering in the air.
“Ever?”
She breathed a grin. “You make it sound horrible. It’s my home. I’m the last Everly.”
“You’re a Rose.”
“Well, I’m the last of my grandfather’s blood and he loved this town and his land, the people.”
Declan remembered the back-story now. Her mother went off to school and came back with Brent Rose. The asshole had no roots here, yet he had managed to get his hands in everything.
Justice was already in Declan’s head—a worry he didn’t want. He wasn’t thrilled to know for sure there were issues with her dad, and she wasn’t bailing. And he’d be too far away to do anything about it if it ever got really bad.
His mind started flipping through people he could ask on the sly to watch her. It would have to be Atticus. He was just as stout as the other Rawlings’ boys, and he knew how to be cunning.
“Might be good to get some space between you and your dad for a little bit, though.” What he wanted to say was if it gets bad you go to my brother, he’ll get you to my dad, my grandparents.
She squeezed his hand. If she left, gave up, her grandfather’s land would turn into booze. She’d never go far until it was hers and protected.
“What about you? Is it the Marines forever?”
Way to deflect that there, Justice, he thought. His thumb grazed over her hand. “I signed for four. We’ll see where we are then.”
“We?” she asked, feeling sick all at once when the idea of him planning a future with someone registered in her imagination.
“I don’t know who I’m going to be then. Dad said after four I’d know more.”
“I thought you said you’d never come back here?”
Again, not being able to help it, he pulled her a bit closer. Now her shoulder was leaned against his chest. “You remember that?” he asked, his words whispered down her neck.
Years back, when they ended up close and personal around a campfire the conversation started a lot like this, them wishing on a star, saying where they’d go.
“At fifteen, you were sure you’d never come back. You were going to circle the globe, save the world.”
“Well,” he said at length, “for all I know that will not take a lifetime to do. Dad’s got the bar. Gramps has the garage. Tobias wants to come up with something on his own or take over one of the two. There’s no telling...” He tightened his hold on her hand.
Two hours ago when he was mulching flower beds he would have told anyone he’d never be back besides for a Rally. Right then the idea of him saying never cut into his chest. “In four years, I’ll figure it out.”
“How’s Tobias doing now that he’s home?” she asked. She was sure the reason Declan was not quick to say never now was because of him.
Tobias had been ready to never come back to Bradyville. One fall and his whole life changed.
“Good.”
“You’re lying.”
Declan bit his lip as he lifted both his brows. “Different. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s the same but different. Just working through it, focusing on us.”
Whatever comfort they found was lost. The truth of what was to come was lingering in the air and both their minds were rushing in opposite directions.
Oddly enough it was the sound of weather radio’s emergency broadcast that broke the tension.
Declan had moved away from her and turned it down only to pull it to his ear.
“Is it bad?” she asked when he pulled the flashlight a bit closer.
“We’re good,” he said, even though a pretty harsh line was bearing down on them.
He didn’t pull her against him again. Not touching her was somewhat helping him clear his head. He was having a hard time understanding how an hour with her had flipped his whole mind; then again he wasn’t.
This girl could not talk to him for months at a time, not utter one word, just shoot him long glances, and yet when she did open her mouth it was like they’d always been close.
She’d put on spell on him tonight. He knew this was bad. His own personal code and lo
yalty kept telling him Nolan had a ‘take’ on this girl. And even if Nolan didn’t like her that way, he still had his reason for keeping it in place. And more than likely it was because Nolan knew she was too good for any Rawlings, least of all Declan.
Right then as a clap of thunder sounded above them, she went to move closer to him but hesitated.
He could have sworn he felt an electric current reach out and kiss his skin, a silent call for him to pull her to him. Her gaze nervously moved to the radio again, another warning had come across but he knew the storm, at least the current cell of storms, was miles away.
A devastatingly handsome smile eased across his face.
“What?” she asked.
“You.”
“What about me?”
“So tough, so righteous...on the surface.”
She swallowed somewhat tensely. “What does that mean?”
“This storm is scaring the shit out of you.” He glanced over her. “Yet, you act like it’s killing you to move closer to me, to hide next to me.”
Was he not there two seconds ago? Was he not the one who moved away?
“And since when did you become a cocky asshole?”
He brazenly lifted his brow. “When am I not?”
She quieted the adrenaline that threatened to unsteady her voice. “You’re direct, but you have never been cruel to me.”
His smile faded as his gaze searched over her. Yeah, he had. But he couldn’t help it; it was his nature to be defensive toward something he could not understand.
“You don’t know me as well as you think you do,” his tone was quiet.
“I know what you hide.”
He furrowed his brow.
“Underneath all this you’re shy...sweet.”
“Not anymore,” he said bluntly. “And if I remember correctly, I wasn’t all that shy last time you and I found ourselves alone.”
She flushed as her mind and body soared back in time. Declan had been just about every first she’d had, and he had made sure those who came after him hovered in his shadow.
It could’ve been because she was so young, because he was a dare, or because it was her first experience, but it felt different with him. She was aware, locked in a moment, a world with him.
“Is this the part where we compare notches on our bedpost?” she asked. “Where I get to hear about all your conquests, and the ones you plan to have?”
Declan swayed his head side to side. Even if it was, he doubted he could remember another girl’s name right about then. “This is me telling you I’m not sweet. And when I want something I’m not shy about taking it.” He leaned forward a bit. “This is me telling you the silent treatment you gave me in the past was one of the smartest things you’ve ever done.”
“Me?” she said, pointing to herself, forgetting the storm for the moment.
This boy had been her first friend, her first kiss, her first touch, and her first heartache. She liked to think the heartache was a true gift. The pain taught her how to wear an armor of indifference in public, to hide the torrid emotions ripping her insides up. It had helped her on more than one front in her life, a million times over.
“Every time you kiss me you don’t talk to me for months, if not longer!” she snapped. “Might as well kiss me now, that way by the time you come back ‘round I can at least say ‘welcome home’ without you growling at me, or looking at me like I ate your breakfast.”
It took a lot of effort for Declan not grin at the invitation and the boldness in her words, but he managed. At best a determined glint was in his gaze. “You ignored me.”
“I’m not doing this,” she said with a shake of her head just before she flinched at the sound of another rumble.
“What? Coming over here after you told me to kiss you?”
“I didn’t—whatever. Back then you acted like I was a regret and that sucked. But I’m not going to toss this at you before you leave. I don’t remember the end unless I need a reality check.”
Now he was intrigued.
Declan thought to tell her he had to be distant around the Rawlings’ boys because of Nolan’s take, but then thought better of it. To outsiders it sounded boorish.
He arched a brow. “The first one doesn’t count. We changed the game with it, you couldn’t be my buddy any more because I don’t kiss my buddies.”
“Like the second one didn’t change the game?” Then she grinned devilishly. “Oh that’s right, it wouldn’t have for you because I was just the closest girl to you that night. For me it changed.”
Declan tilted his head to the side. “You better watch it, you’re the closest girl to me tonight, too. Us man whores have to go with what we got.”
Justice’s glare sliced deep, making him regret every word...to some degree. She needed to know she was far too tempting to him and he was by no means innocent or looking for any tie he didn’t need.
“It meant something,” he said, after a long tense moment. “You should know that.” He paused. “Still...then and now neither one of us need something this real.”
Right then, she wasn’t sure if it was the thunder or her heart that was making her entire body feel like it was quaking. Only Declan Rawlings could offer a sentiment and rejection across three sentences.
“I guess that’s best since you’re leaving town.”
“Right,” he said as his gaze dipped over her once more.
Thunder crashed above, and she flinched.
“Come here,” his deep voice beckoned. When she hesitated a pained smile came to him. “I can’t handle you being scared. Don’t make me.”
She couldn’t help it. She moved closer.
Five
Declan thought to just put his arm around her, pull her against him, but right as she moved toward him the thunder was so heavy that it felt as if it vibrated the earth itself and she ended up in his lap.
At first, he tensed, and so did she. The same current he had felt twice over when he had this girl all alone was there. The urge to fight what he didn’t understand was his first instinct. But then he relaxed against the wall he was leaning on and gently drew his arms around her as she settled against his chest so easily that it felt like she had done so a thousand times before.
“All right?” he asked a few minutes later after another warning went off.
“Yeah,” she breathed nervously.
They stayed quiet for a moment listening to the storm they could hear approaching. The next one was going to come a lot closer to the school, but it was still a ways off.
The thunder crashed and the wind became so fierce that they could hear it whistling through the vents like a distant train screeching to a halt. The lights flickered only to decide to stay on. All the while they held each other in comfortable silence.
Declan found himself marveling at the fact he had never needed many words with this girl. And how he thought it was cool as hell that she was settled enough in her own skin that she was never fake—she was as true as the blush he’d see slide down her body when any emotion, good or bad, claimed her.
His rose...
He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice it had gotten a bit quiet so when the next clap came and then the power went out he squeezed her tighter than he meant to, and she cried out.
“Sorry,” he said across a deep laugh, right as the lights flicked on again.
Only she wasn’t smiling, tears were welling in her eyes and she was trying to hide them.
“Damn, I’m sorry,” he said again, seriously questioning how hard he had squeezed her.
“It’s not you,” she said, trying to smile but blushing instead. “I, uh. I fell the other day, got a bit bruised.”
His concerned stare turned murderous in a beat. “You fell,” he bit out, moving her out of his lap.
“Yeah,” she said, not meeting his eyes, just because she didn’t want him to pull the complete truth out of her. She did fall, but she fell because she was dodging a backhanded swing that
came after her speaking up for her grandmother when her dad had had too much to drink.
He rarely hit her face for obvious reasons, but he was not shy about throwing her in any direction or into anything, enough to knock the wind out of her.
Last week she fell into his toolbox and somehow the sound of all his tools hitting the floor sobered him up a bit, or at the very least he decided Justice had learned her lesson.
“Show me,” Declan demanded.
Her flush, more from outright humility not shyness, deepened.
“No.”
“Show me,” he said again with even less finesse in his deep tone as he eyed her dress and tried to figure out the best way to see for himself without putting all kinds of temptation he didn’t need in his face.
“Why?” she growled.
“Because it’s bullshit and you know it.”
“What?”
“You fell?”
“I did fall.”
“After what?” he roared.
She jerked her stare away.
“You need out of that house, Justice.”
“It’s not as bad as you think, and it’s not your problem.”
He sharply lifted his hands to the side. “Exactly how bad do I think it is?”
“I don’t know, but from the look in your eye I would guess you think I’m tied up and whipped.”
Declan leered. “I heard the way he talked to you. And I heard Murdock act like it was nothing.”
“He’s an asshole, yes. I tend to attract them.”
He glared. “Are you calling me one?”
“You did.”
He cursed and punched the mat next to him before he hung his head between his raised knees and counted, just the way his dad always told him to do.
“Show me,” he finally said.
“Declan, you don’t need this shit on your plate.”
“Too late.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means whether you show me or not, I know. And for the next fourteen weeks of my life I’m going to think about it. It’s going to overshadow every fucking other worry I have about what’s going on at home.”