Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(26)

“Maybe not, then again maybe somebody might be too convincing about how it would be best for me to stick around, help out this summer, then summer will turn into fall. Shall I go on?” he asked, with a lazy slant of his head to the side.

Declan shook his head and leaned into the door.

“Relax, I wrote a letter. Before you come back through they will be over it.”

“A what?”

“A letter, pen and paper. I know it’s old school, but when I want them to read it I will be nowhere near a plug. I told them why I did it and how I swore you to keep my secret.” Nolan glanced at Declan. “They know you well enough to know you didn’t have much of a choice.”

“If you ain’t gotta plug you’re not going to have a mailbox either,” Declan said, pointing out that he thought it was cowardly for Nolan to not look his dad in the eye, or their grandparents. A phone call would have still been cowardly but at least he would’ve heard the emotion in their voice. A letter? The sentiment was nice, but still. It wasn’t how the Rawlings’ clan rolled.

Nolan had been plotting this deal for years, making plans every time he met someone on a retreat, saving money, mapping out his path which meant for years he plotted to lie to the people he loved the most, and a letter was his solution.

Declan reached in his back pocket and pulled out the mail that came for Nolan that day—that Declan barely hid from their dad. “You’re not going to get very far without this,” he said, tossing it at Nolan. “That’s the kind of shit I’m talking about—you gotta think ten steps ahead, always, especially if you’re on your own. You can’t do this shit where you get all gooey eyed about where you are or what you’re doing and just lose track of time and space.”

Nolan glanced down at the letter, knowing it was his passport. He reached and put it behind his visor. “I had a fake one ready to go, boss. Just because I believe in free love does not mean I have no f*cking survival sense—I am a Rawlings.”

“Not according to your fake IDs that would have gotten you arrested if you tried to use them at the border,” Declan spat back.

Nolan only had a few fake IDs that he used when he was out of town, and having his wrong name on them was done so he had a prayer he could talk his way out of trouble before they called his father.

The one he’d made to cross the border was his most convincing one, and the closest to this name—he’d paid good money for that joker.

Before Declan could continue his rant, a truck flashed its high beams just behind them. And then there was a loud ‘thump’ followed by another, then another, and then something flew in through the back window that was only open a foot or so, and hit the gearshift.

Nolan hit the brakes and then spun the truck right as Declan figured out it was baseballs being thrown at them.

“Fucking Murdock!” Declan raged.

“Naw, it’s Faith’s boy. Murdock is just along for the ride.”

“What the f*ck ever,” Declan said as Nolan successfully blocked the one lane country road causing the truck behind them to skid to the side, barely missing Nolan’s truck.

The dead of night was illuminated by crisscrossed headlights from the two massive trucks.

With a murderous scowl Declan flew from the truck with Nolan right on his heels. Both the driver, Jacks—Faith’s on again off again boyfriend—and Murdock were drunk and laughing their asses off.

Jacks raised his hands. “Just f*cking with you man. I thought Faith was with you, she wanted me to act jealous, so there.”

“So you f*cking hit my truck?” Nolan said with a snarl that was still trying to size up this deal. Faith was a girl Nolan had spent some time with in the past, not much, but enough. It ended wickedly.

Declan charged toward the passenger side and ripped Murdock out then threw a punch right at his chest, with the ball in his hand, dropping it as he did so. Declan was inch from Murdock’s face when he said, “You dropped this, f*cker!”

Murdock bent forward with the blow as Jacks and Nolan charged around the truck, trying to stop the fight before it got out of hand and someone really got hurt.

“Hey, hey, now boys, we’ve just had our drink on too long, let’s not get all crazy!” Jacks yelled.

Murdock grew a pair and slugged Declan who managed to catch his fist, then in a beat he hit him in the jaw, flinging him down to the ground. Declan pulled him up again and slammed him against the front of the truck.

Nolan held Jacks back. He didn’t plan to let Declan go too far, for obvious reasons, but he knew stopping him now was more than dangerous. Declan had a vendetta.

“You’re out here f*cking 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 f*cking 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 f*cking 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.”