Deploy (20 page)

And he’d always had Declan’s number.

“You should’ve saw her first,” Atticus said strolling around to the passenger seat. His distance silently underlined his rage.

Atticus didn’t understand. And he wouldn’t until he walked Declan’s path. There was no sense in hurting himself or Justice any more than Declan had. Not now.

“Why do you have to be an ass? You have no idea what I saw,” Atticus said, when Declan slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door and glared into nothing.

Declan didn’t. He’d read it when Atticus wrote him about it and unfortunately Declan had a
vivid
imagination.

“Two-way street, bro,” Declan said with a hiss. Declan had a hard time believing it took someone reminding Justice he was writing her for her to find his letters.

Declan got she was going through some stuff, but two months? And he didn’t cross her mind
at all
? Why was that? He had to wonder who was in her head, and why’d she let them in there. Declan had a few ideas, a few dark ones. Ones that made him downright murderous.

Reading Declan, Atticus said, “She didn’t know, Declan. You should have seen her face. She was one girl when I drove her to the post and another when she came out.” He glared him down. “Ever since then a bit more of that happiness chips away each day. She’s been a nervous wreck for days.”

Declan glanced harshly away, hearing the echoes of his drill sergeant in his mind.
“You think this girl gives a fuck about you? You think Jody is not fucking her right now? You’re a toy, a pet. You’re her bitch.”
As Declan pushed through endless pushups the sergeant got down in his face.
“Is she worth jail, boy? Is it that sweet? I swear to you it sure as fuck is not that tight anymore!”

Yeah, Declan learned self-restraint the hard way. And when he yelled,
“Sir, yes, sir,”
his day only got worse.

It was a letter from his dad that kicked his attitude to the curb; words that gave Declan reason to just shut it. He’d said in effect, ‘Right girl, wrong time. The time will get here, no sense in suffering until it does. Man up, don’t let them win, son. If something truly belongs to you, no one can steal it—not even time.’

“Keep looking out for her, then,” Declan said as he roared Nolan’s truck to life. “We gotta find Nolan.”

Declan not only needed to know Nolan was all right, he needed Nolan to help him think straight about this business with Justice.

Justice might have let Atticus close to her, but she didn’t talk to him, not really—same with Boon. Justice would talk to Nolan, he’d be able to help her through all that went down over the summer, he’d be able to help her understand Declan was an asshole, but if she’d just give him a minute...

Declan shook his head and pressed the gas pedal down.

“Not one letter?” Declan asked Atticus for the hundredth time on the way to their dad’s bar.

He shook his head. “Haven’t heard a word from Nolan.”

“You sure there was nothing else? That Dad just ain’t sayin’?” Their father, their entire family, was notorious for always knowing more than they said. They’d make you confess your own sins, and they’d
never
run their mouth about anyone’s business. So if his dad or grandparents were having it out with Nolan, there was a good chance the other boys wouldn’t know.

Atticus shrugged. “I heard ‘em months back saying they thought Nolan had enough sense to at least call by then since you’d been sending letters. He hadn’t.”

Declan cursed and slammed his hand against the steering wheel of Nolan’s truck.

And as he did the visor popped down. The envelope with Nolan’s passport fell in his lap. Declan cursed and flung it in between him and Atticus. “He’s still in the states, or in jail for being a stupid fuck and using his fake IDs.”

Atticus lifted a remorseful brow.

Every day for weeks Nolan and Justice stayed in a constant loop in Declan’s head. They made him feel out of control and he hated it.

Nolan wasn’t home like he should be, and Justice...Declan didn’t even know what to think. He saw the pain in her eyes, the scars from her war. He saw the blush he missed, the shuddering breath. And the wind made sure he smelled her classic scent of strawberries and champagne, but beyond that he just didn’t know—had no clue why every sense he had told him she was in trouble, that Nolan was.

Something’s wrong...

~

T
he Grunt was packed. Most Rawlings’ from out of town camped around the property. They either had their RVs or good ole fashion tents.

It took Declan forever to get inside. In this crowd, he was the rock star of the summer, the one who got what more than half of them had went through and survived as well.

Inside, Chasen was hauling beer up from the cellar or at least taking it from Tobias who was reaching it up the stairs.

“We gotta talk,” Declan said in his now even more straightforward tone.

Chasen grinned. “When I told my daddy that after I graduated, Tobias showed up six months later when I was on the other side of the globe.”

Declan clenched his jaw.

He was very aware of how the wings of the Rawlings had enfolded over Justice and her grandmother. He didn’t request any of it. He didn’t have to. It was their way.

Granted if the Rawlings’ had just heard of this event in Justice’s life they might have dropped food off, stopped by to help with upkeep a few times. But because it was known, not said, that Declan had more than fallen for Justice Rose, she was protected all the more.

Declan was ready for this kind of nagging from his dad, it was nothing compared to what he had already endured at the base.

“Not a possibility,” Declan said boldly. Yes, in truth anything was possible, but he had just seen Justice. He was sure the girl had dropped twenty pounds over the summer, and Declan was more than aware she had been around his grandmother day in and out. Not only would Missy have figured out such news but also so would his family.

Chasen and Tobias both chuckled. Chasen reached to wipe his brow. “Best be keeping it that way. What’s the countdown?”

Five months, four days and about eight hours...
Declan thought. That would be when Justice Rose would turn eighteen. Not that he was counting or anything. “I’m serious, Dad. We need to cut the bullshit. You should’ve heard from Nolan months back and if you haven’t and he’s not here now...” Declan clenched his jaw hiding his emotion the best he could. “We need to make sure he’s right. Wherever he is.”

Chasen’s taunting grin faded instantly. Tobias’s grin left, too, and they both made their way up the steps.

“Spill it,” Chasen said.

“Why? You know.”

“I know a lot of shit, son. I know you sat there as your brother told me some bullshit line and didn’t say a damn word.”

Boldly meeting his father’s eyes, Declan said, “Because I’m loyal.”

“To who? Not your daddy.”

Declan dropped his head and took in a calming breath.

“Dad, stop,” Tobias said in his defense as he nudged Declan. “What was the plan?”

Declan cussed under his breath, remembering the last time he saw Nolan, his carefree smile, so at ease, ready for the freedom he felt washing over him. Even then, Declan felt his instinct telling him to stop Nolan, to tell him to take a different road, wait on him. Or hell, take Atticus or Boon with him for the summer.

“He had it all mapped out, had for over a year. Buddies he was meeting. Adventures. He was heading to the Northwest, through Canada, and then back down for the Rally.”

“That’s it?” Chasen asked.

“He told me he was writing,” Declan said.

“To cover-up this enlisting lie?” Chasen yelled. “Does he not think I have the sense to read a post mark? Beyond the other shit he tried to pass by me?”

“No, he was sending the letters from where he was. I don’t know. He said it would explain it all. That by the time I graduated, you’d know and you’d understand. He was sure of it. If he didn’t mail it and he’s not picking up—” Declan stopped short when his dad pulled out his phone then walked to his computer.

“Where was he going after he dropped you off?”

“Mount Mitchell. He was going to camp, then hike. I don’t know the layout, but I know he planned to be around the Great Lakes by the end of July, up in Canada for a few, straight north, then trekking back here for the Rally.”

“Then what?” Chasen asked, looking up sharply. Yes, he was well aware his son was out on his own all summer, broken free from the pack. But he still didn’t know exactly what the plan was. If it was just a summer jaunt he wanted, if he was heading to school, work, or the service in the fall. Hell, he didn’t even really understand why Nolan chose not to discuss this with him.

It was insulting that he hadn’t, and now months down the road, Chasen had a speech ready for his son when he saw him again. One all about honor and respect, and speaking your mind, all kinds of sharp words that would make his dreamer of a son stop and think for once. For him to understand that Chasen had his own life to live and didn’t plan on living through any of his sons.

What they wanted to do was just fine. Cutting him out of his life was not. His boys were his world. He’d missed too much of their lives in the beginning and didn’t plan on missing any more.

“Flying overseas,” Declan said in a shallow tone. He didn’t like the uncertainty and worry in his father’s eyes. It was enough to make his mouth dry and cast an empty feeling over him.

“And how long was this run away from reality love child tour suppose to last?”

Declan lifted his brow, knowing lines like that was exactly why Nolan kept his plans to himself. If you heard enough of something long enough, it would start to sink in—good or bad.

“Until his funds ran out, I guess,” Declan said.

“Which would have been now,” Tobias spouted up, crossing his arms over his thick chest.

“He thought he had enough for a few years,” Declan said as he started to pace.

“His phone is not on,” Chasen said after a few minutes. He was trying to track it online. “All of you start calling his buddies. Everyone who knows his name.”

Hours later the most they knew was Nolan had lunch with a cousin around the base, and then he just vanished. The last call he made on his phone was from there.

They only found one of his friends from the Mt. Mitchell trip he had planned, the others were on another adrenaline seeking journey, but they claimed they never saw Nolan, he was a no show.

For all the Rawlings’ knew, Nolan had been missing for three months, and they just now understood he was.

Taking Declan anywhere near Sheriff Monty Souter was not something Chasen would want to do any day of the week, but the truth of it was, Declan knew the most about this trip of Nolan’s.

For good measure someone to represent Declan as an outside source was there, too. The officer who had recruited Declan at seventeen, Tiran Dunn.

Chasen and Declan had been waiting for hours to talk to the Sheriff, and he was doing a damn good job of ignoring them and the rest of the family that was outside. It wasn’t until Tiran Dunn, the recruitment officer, asked the Sheriff if his staff was overextended, perhaps needed better management, that the Sheriff huffed his way in. 

“Sorry for the wait,” the Sheriff said to Dunn, not the Rawlings. “We have a large family that likes to overpopulate my town a few days each year, extending our resources and patrols.”

When Declan tensed, Chasen slid one sharp look to him, enough to make Declan check himself.

“We have your report, the time frame has not been met to state Nolan is missing, and I’m not sure the jurisdiction is even ours.”

“This is his home town,” Chasen said. “We were told to file here.” He leaned forward. “How is three months not long enough?”

“Three months,” the Sheriff said as if he were in deep thought. “I guess it might take you that long to figure out one of yours was missing. You said he was supposed to be here today, or yesterday. Not even forty-eight hours. As far as I know your son got some good sense and ditched this Roughneck family that only knows how to rob innocence and overpopulate this world with brute uneducated fighters.

Tiran had his hand on Declan’s shoulder and his embrace had only gotten tighter as he felt the rage ripple through Declan.

In all truth, this Sheriff didn’t have much say over Declan any longer. And as far as any girl he cared to see, unless her family had issue with it, the topic was null and void. But that didn’t mean the Sheriff or his buddies with fat wallets and established families could not stain reputations or push to start trouble when it wasn’t needed.

If the Rawlings’ had learned anything over the years it was that when they were provoked it was best to be silent, seek revenge on their own terms, in their own way. More times than not, provocation was meant to cause the false guilt placed on the Rawlings’ to have merit—when they fought back a Stouter would say ‘see I told you so, animals, the whole lot of ‘em.’

The Sheriff pointed to the file with a tilt of his head. “The way I see it, one of your wild ones took off with the cash they got from graduation, and is more than likely shacking up with some young thing, having the time of his life.” As he said young thing, he made sure he looked right at Declan.

“You know he’s missing, file the damn report,” Declan growled.

“Watch your tone with me, boy,” the Sheriff said curtly. “You were the last to be seen with him. I’ll your need your statement.”

“No he wasn’t,” Dunn said. “We have an officer writing his statement down.”

“I’m assuming from the base, correct? The one
not
in my jurisdiction. Not my business.”

“Yeah, because we all know you’re real good at keeping to your business,” Declan chided.

“You have a problem with me, son?”

“I do.”

The Sheriff sneered as he glanced at Dunn. “One of your finest, I assume.”

“Honesty comes with the finest,” Dunn said in a clipped tone. “He’s aggravated you have kept him waiting, as I am, for hours only to blow him and his family off, and in your round about way accuse him of being the last with the missing and therefore guilty. Something you would know to be false if you had bothered to read the statements given thus far.”