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Half the time Murdock didn’t remember where he was or what he had been doing. He’d only made it legitimately through the first year of college, after that point his mother paid off others to help him with his online classes, and more than once had someone sit in for his exams. He didn’t get why she cared. Why anyone cared.

It was all a joke to him.

But now? Fuck. Now he had to deal with this shit. He had to find a way to shut Justice up and get the fuck out of dodge.

He was pulling on his shirt, marveling at how soft the cotton felt when his father walked in.

“Don’t look at me like that,” the Sheriff said when he saw Murdock’s blazed smile, one that was near manic at times. “What the hell were you thinking? Why were you in my station—anywhere near a Rawlings? Your mother said she had you under control.”

Murdock was sure she did. Her version of under control was sharing her stash with him. Last year he woke in his driveway, with his mother hosing him down, demanding to know who bit him and why.

Months later, when Murdock figured it out...he told her. He told her he needed help. He was too far gone, not remembering shit, and half crazy.

Mary Souter shut him up with more drugs—and cash. She kept him home for a while, and when it was all over she convinced him he had imagined it all. She told him he was just still heartbroken because Justice Rose left him for a Rawlings, and that was normal.

So he tried not to, but then he’d seen Brent’s case on his dad’s desk. He’d hear his parents argue and he’d lose it. He’d try to find Justice just to make sure she had not gotten all righteous on him.

“All I was doing was trying to talk to Justice and that fool hit me. I’m filing charges.”

The Sheriff glared. Charges had been filed. Attempted murder and assault. The MPs had been called. For a long while, Declan and his own would not be an issue. Long enough for him to get Murdock gone, long enough for no one to think the Souters were anything but slighted by the Roughneck Rawlings’ clan.

Out of his pocket, in an evidence bag, the Sheriff withdrew a baseball.

Murdock turned white as a ghost. “Get rid of it.”

“This one? This ball you flung at a vehicle causing an accident, and a death.”

Murdock shook his head. Nope. He was snuggling with Justice, tried to save her from a fire. That’s what happened.

“I can get rid of this one,” the Sheriff said.

Murdock dared to sigh in relief.

“But I can’t get rid of the one that Declan found in his truck, the one the federal agents have.”

Murdock lifted his brow.

“This one was in the bed, fell out on the tow truck. I thought it was odd, kept it for curious reasons. And then today happens.”

“You can’t say that’s mine.” In the one year of school he did pay attention, in all the time he had been raised by a lawman, he’d picked up a thing or two, things he thought long and hard about when he caught a buzz and thought of all the ways his dark secrets could be revealed and how he could get out of it.

Circumstantial—the very word was his best friend on long sleepless nights.

“Nope. But who would deny you’re a hell of a pitcher, or at least you were. How many people do you think will recall you throwing balls at both Declan and Nolan at the game years back? Or do you think Jacks would deny you and him, drunk as hell, threw balls at Nolan the night before he vanished.”

After a minute Murdock spoke. “What do I do?”

“For starters, not roughing up the girl who could alibi you out would have been a good idea.”

Murdock dropped his head.

“You need to vanish.”

“That will make me look guilty.”

“You are.”

Murdock shook his head. “I was with Justice.”

The Sheriff breathed out. He loved this kid, maybe not like his own son, because he wasn’t, but he did love him.

If this deal went south, if the Rawlings’ managed to kick up enough dust and point enough fingers, this kid, who’d been trying to destroy himself for years, could go up for a long time.

Seeing him go to jail—his trial—it would ruin their family, maybe their town. If Murdock vanished, or was never officially charged or tried...people would forget that.

This town already saw the Sheriff as the father that did his damndest to raise a good kid, and they still would as long as this lost its heat.

“You’re leaving. Vanishing. It’s this or jail.” He leaned forward. “You let a Rawlings take your girl and your life. That’s your fuck up, son. Not mine.”

Murdock didn’t say a word. He had no job, no money, and a bad habit that he had to feed or he’d be in some serious pain. Running—it made no sense to him. His dad could fix this. He was just mad. And besides, he had been with Justice.

“Out, now. The MPs are on their way for Declan, for all I know they will turn him lose and Lord knows that boy could track you in his sleep if he has cause.” He glanced to his son’s arm. “He sure enough does.”

“What does that mean?”

The Sheriff grunted. “Get to the docks. Your mother has a ride set up for you.”

J
ustice was alone at home. Dawson was with her but she left, and she did so on purpose. She wasn’t far, just down the road, waiting, watching. Justice had told Dawson everything, every secret she had. If this was any other town, this would have been easy, tell the truth then and now. But it wasn’t. It was Bradyville.

“Get him to confess—to any of the shit he has put you through and anything he claims will never be taken seriously, no Sheriff can protect him,” was Dawson’s advice.

“If he confesses to the rape...and it’s on record, Declan will
kill
him. My son will not have a dad—they will lock him up.”

“They’re already trying to do that,” Dawson argued. “The charges they filed are bullshit but will not go away without a fight. You know that.”

Justice grimaced. She knew every demon from her past was about to surface.

Get him to confess...
Dawson’s words kept circling in her mind. Justice didn’t know all the details, but she knew because of a baseball, the Rawlings were positive Murdock was the cause of Nolan going off the road. Hearing Dawson relay that to her after she spoke to one of her contacts had Justice seeing the night her father died and the years since then differently. She was seeing red...

Murdock was ridiculously predictable. The moment Dawson got the text that Murdock had snuck out of his room at the hospital, Justice knew he was coming after her.

Justice was in the backyard, pumping herself up, boxing with the dummy. She was so into it that it took her a minute to hear her phone. The text from Dawson read:
just passed me
.

Justice felt the blood drain from her face.

***

L
eave, he said leave. Fuck that
. No, Murdock was fixing this. He was going to drag Justice Rose into the station and make her tell them all he was with her. One car was at her house—a fucking miracle, those fucking Rawlings’ had surrounded her for months.

Murdock pushed in the front door, searched the rooms knocking over everything he passed, sneering at the baby stuff. When he saw Declan’s bag he kicked it across room then charged down the stairs.

He was feeling like a million fucking dollars—yep, he had a dose or two of his happy pills that were funded by the allowance his parents gave him that he was
not
willing to give up.

Murdock finally found her ass out back. She looked up at him with wide eyes then reached for her iPod which was strapped to her arm. He thought she was going for another fucking weapon and was across the way and pushing her to the ground in a beat.

“We’re getting some shit straight, you and me.”

She kicked him, and he fell back. She stood up. “You’re not touching me again!”

He laughed from the ground, looking up at her. “You liked it.”

“You
raped
me.”

“Because you ran off with that fucking jackass. I told you that you were
mine
.”  He staggered to his feet.

~

J
ustice’s heart was racing. She decided she would never, ever doubt Dawson again. The woman understood the human condition and Murdock was outright making this too easy.
There is a God...

“All this—everything you did to me was to cover-up what you did to Nolan.” Justice pushed, not caring he looked high as a kite and any good lawyer could argue as much.

“Declan,” he said, pointing at her. “That fucker was mad you were mine and I had to set him right, pride was on the line.” He stomped the ground. “And he came here! Yes, I chased him down, dealt with it.” Murdock laughed. “I didn’t even try—I was drunk and I still hit that fucker. Fish food.
Boom
. Then what?” he said with his arms up. “Another
boom
, fire at your house—daddy all gone.” He laughed. “He fell.” Murdock shook his head. He staggered closer. Her guard was down because she could not believe how easy this was. Which was stupid—it gave him a chance to backhand her, and she yelled out.

“All over your whore ass! You won’t
listen
!”

He went to hit her again but she kicked him then hit him again but he acted like he couldn’t feel it.

“I liked that Nolan guy, better than the other fuckers,” Murdock lifted his hand and pointed. “Like you, you fucking pissant cunt.”

Only he wasn’t pointing at Justice. She glanced to her side in time to see Boon pulling the forty-five from where Justice always had it strapped at her back and aiming it at Murdock.

“I will fucking kill you, you hear me, bitch!” Murdock yelled, and then charged the gun like it was a water gun, and in all truth he was high enough to believe it was.

Justice’s hands went across Boon’s, trying to stop him as she moved in front of him, but Boon fired, not once but three times, and she screamed bloody murder as Murdock didn’t stop coming at them until the last bullet left.

She pulled her phone from the pouch on her arm. She had no way of knowing if it was still recording or what it saw, the screen was shattered. There was no telling at what point in the fight it happened—if all Murdock confessed to was now lost and she was back in the guiltiest seat in the town.

She fumbled with it, saying, “Oh, God, oh, God,” over and over again as she managed to get the screen to show a dial tone so she could call for help.

She took the gun from Boon and with her shirt she wiped his prints away.

She pointed for Boon to go in, to his clothes, telling him to change.

By the time the cell phone company transferred three times over to the right emergency people, Boon had stripped even his boots and all of it was in the wash doused in bleach.

Justice had run in and grabbed towels and ran back outside.

“I was attacked,” she told the operator. “I tried to stop him but he kept coming, I fired,” she said. “Yes, I’m alone. Yes, I think he’s alive.”

Justice did everything the operator told her to do as Murdock stared up at her with a cold confused gaze.

“My friend is here now,” she told the operator. She meant Boon. He’d come back outside and was shocked to see Murdock still fighting. “Pressure, yes. No, I’m not okay. I don’t know, he hit me pretty hard.” Hard pained tears came and they were not all fake all she could think was Boon had just destroyed his life. She had to get this story to stick and if she didn’t—she couldn’t even think.

She screamed out when she saw Murdock close his eyes, when she saw the final breath leave, a final breath she had seen her father take years before, the pool of blood under Murdock—her mind was merging both events into one moment. A transitory moment where time moved so slowly she could hear her heart, which was slow...beat...beat...beat.

Over. It was all over. For good or bad this demon had fallen.

An eye for an eye—it wasn’t a fair enough statement. This boy had by all accounts killed Nolan, raped her, beat her—and he got to die, he was done. The rest of them, the survivors, they’d live with this, carry the memory until their final breath left.

***

O
ver the years Justice had learned to say it all with a glance. She never once coached Boon on what to do or what his alibi should be, but he understood.

“I came to get the baby’s milk. I saw the front door was busted open, things in the house tossed about. I ran out back when I heard her yelling on the phone. He was down already. She tried to save him but couldn’t...I’m not sorry she didn’t. You see her face?” That was the extent of Boon’s statement.

Justice’s trembles, her drenched face, true reactions fit her account of what happened. She gladly turned her gun over, gave them her clothes.

She didn’t give her phone to the deputies. She didn’t trust them.

Once Dawson had checked what was recorded, she told Justice to hand it to the agents who were all watching the scene unfold at a distance.

The camera had shattered the first time Murdock struck her, but the audio said enough. It was on point with everything Justice had said.

Broken and drenched with pain, Justice walked her evidence to the deputy Dawson told her she could trust.

“Will you please make the call, drop whatever charges. Declan Rawlings was protecting me.” She handed the phone to the officer. “Murdock Souter killed his brother and...and he’s done worse, too.” Her eyes welled. “Let my family go so we can grieve together.

~

J
ustice wanted to go get her baby and crawl in a dark hole and come out when she could breathe again but was all but forced to go to the emergency room to be checked out.

At the emergency room, a female officer questioned her more. She told them the truth, somewhat.

“Murdock must have come to my house not long after what happened with Nolan years ago...the fire started right after he got there but he always told me I had to say he was there the whole time, that if I didn’t it would look bad. I didn’t really care or understand. I’d just lost my father, I wasn’t right. Over the years he became abusive, jealous, paranoid...last year—” She looked away from the officer. “I knew saying he did something would not go anywhere with who his father was. That is why I never turned the kit in, filed charges...it would hurt my family and he would have walked away scot free.” She pressed her lips together. “I guess when the truck was found he snapped...I don’t know.”