by Jamie Magee
Something’s wrong...
~
The 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 got
ten 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.”
Declan relaxed a bit in his chair as a smug look rested in his expression.
The Sheriff turned beet red. “You want it on file your family hasn’t seen him in months, done. What else, then?”
“Report the truck stolen,” Chasen said.
“Are you seriously asking me to file a false report?” he chuckled. “I will tell you one thing, you Rawlings’ are bold.” He looked over Declan as he said his next words. “Crossing lines that are better left alone, intact.”
Declan was as still as death. The whole while he was thanking God above that what he had heard screamed at him for months was nothing compared to what this pissant was spitting out. Declan wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of knowing how hard he was pushing him, of knowing that Declan had thought of ten ways to the kill the old fuck in as many seconds.
It was just wrong. Who in their right mind elected this asshole? Was the system broken? Or did it just not exist anymore. Maybe it never did.
“I’m reporting it stolen,” Declan said. “It’s my truck and was to be returned to me yesterday, and it wasn’t.”
“And when I find your brother in it, with some girl, drunk or high, having the time of his life, am I to haul him in? Or will you mysteriously drop the charges?”
“My truck is missing,” Declan said as he crossed his arms.
The Sheriff went to say something but Dunn nudged Declan to rise. “We’ll be heading to the base, as well as working with the local officers there. I’ve already contacted them and others and let them know you and yours seem stressed in this department. I was assured they’d be in touch with you shortly and they would follow up to make sure all information was shared readily.”
The Sheriff didn’t bother to stand or say another word as he watched them all leave.
Monty didn’t like this one bit. Not only had Nolan and his son had a tiff in the past, but also Monty was aware that Jacks and Murdock had had a fight with both Nolan and Declan around the time Nolan vanished.
Monty knew as much because his insane wife at first accused a Rawlings of murdering Brent Rose, stating they must have showed up at the shop looking for Murdock and Brent defended him, tried to stop it and the Rose girl was covering it up.
The idea was absurd.
No, Monty didn’t buy the story that Murdock and Justice were snuggling up somewhere. Any fool could see that Justice had never really ‘seen’ Murdock. There was nothing but friendship, a strained one as of late.
At the same time, Monty knew his son was there, and the way it stood was Murdock was either side by side with Brent as he died, or with Justice. The latter won votes. The latter was the truth on record forevermore.
This shit right here, Nolan missing, it poked holes and double-checked a story that Sheriff Monty Souter wanted left alone. It was bad enough that his wife’s debilitating grief over Brent Rose’s death had people talking.
Fourteen
“Son, say the goodbyes you need to,” was what Chasen said to Declan before he went to tell everyone outside what they knew, or rather didn’t know.
Declan’s gaze searched those all around him, it was as if the entire Rally had been moved to the Sheriff’s office. Declan looked everywhere for the one face he wanted to see, needed to see.
A minute later he saw Bell with Missy, both of them had stacks of flyers with the family’s information. He gathered from overhearing them they were heading to the garage office to make more flyers, and gather more contacts from Nolan’s list of friends. Then they were sending out the information over social media, emailing everyone they could think of.
If any of the Rawlings’ had anything to do with it, within the hour this whole town and half the globe would know James Nolan Rawlings was missing. Justice would be right in the middle of the hunt. She was close with Nolan and wouldn’t take this well. Not after the summer she just had.
Declan at least wanted to give her one look that said he was going to find him, for the pair of them. Then again...he wanted to see the look in her eyes that told him it was going to be all right, this was nothing. Nolan was fine.
“Um, Declan,” Bell said. “I know you’re in a hurry and have a lot going on, but we put some food in the bed of your truck. Could you run it home for me? We were afraid it was going to go bad and your dad said you all were taking the back way out anyway.”
There was a confused glint in Declan’s gaze.
“Nod yes, son,” Missy said, without looking up from the notes she was writing.
Declan didn’t nod, he turned about face and all but ran to his truck.
He knew where she was now. And she had to be alone...
When he first pulled into Justice’s drive his gaze moved across the way into the shadows, to where he knew the shop used to stand. It was nothing but a dark mass now, but still Declan’s fist clenched the steering wheel as he crept down the drive lined with Georgia pines. Justice had lived through hell here and Murdock was with her, that he was still always with her. A fucking Jody if there ever was one.
For a moment he was sure Bell was mistaken, or that Justice had heard of the news about Nolan and left. There didn’t seem to be a light on in the whole place. When he pulled around back he saw one. The kitchen light glowed through the side screened in porch.
His protective side didn’t like this at all. Her out here in the middle of nowhere, in the dark, with the side door wide open, only a screen between her and whoever—no, he didn’t like it. When the loud rumble of Nolan’s diesel truck or his headlights didn’t bring her to the door he decided he was now concerned beyond reason.
He walked double time to the side steps then up them. When he reached to jerk the side door open he stopped.
There she was.
Her tank was a light pink, almost vanishing next to her fair skin, and it was thin, thin enough for him to know she had nothing on underneath. Her cotton shorts were so big she had the waist rolled down making them all the shorter.
>
All of the dark blonde curls of hers were free from the long braid she liked to trap them in and were wistfully falling over her shoulders. She had headphones in and was dancing in place...singing, as she baked. Brownies. I fucking love brownies, he thought. His mouth watered and he doubted it was the baked goods causing it.
When she squinted her eyes closed and sang a verse out, using her chocolate covered spoon as a microphone as she spun around, his gunmetal gray eyes glinted with amusement.
Sure he’d scare her if he she did happen to notice his looming shadow outside; he stepped inside in the middle of one of her dramatic, eyes closed, spins. A spin that caused her to crash right into him then scream holy terror when she did so. She jarred back and pointed the spoon at him like a vicious weapon.
A beat later, with a heaving chest she ripped out her headphones and stared at him with the wide blue gaze he had seen every night as he closed his eyes.
Chocolate had splattered across her face. With a ghostly smile he stepped forward, his thumb reached to wipe the mark from her cheek away. Her blush, the rose tint sliding down her body, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
***
Justice Rose was not confused, she was utterly baffled at how or why Declan was there. She had fought to get over her embarrassing afternoon, pushed every thought of him and that girl out of her head. She refused to cry, and grasped anger like a boss. Music had been her salvation, and where that failed, brownies prevailed—even though she was making them for her grandmother for his freaking family Rally.
Now this, now she could feel the heat of his hand near her face, could see the hunger in his eyes, a pain filled with want and too many emotions to name. She could smell the commanding aroma of his aftershave and cologne, a cool mint and hint of spice, along with a scent that was all Declan.
In a breath his lips were on hers and she welcomed the call. When his arms encircled her and she felt his body made of steel slam into hers she climbed into his embrace, wrapping herself completely around him.