Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(32)

“Go on now. There’s only one way out of that street and it’s through here. The storm took out the bridge twenty miles up so he has to come back this way.”

Murdock knew bridge or not, more than likely Declan was going to his buddies up the street, saying his goodbyes.

He didn’t want to stand up to more than one of them at once. Brent may have seen the lick on his chin, but he hadn’t seen his chest that was throbbing with pain, near constantly. Any kind of fight was going to test him.

“I said move it. I’ll deal with that box,” and my daughter, Brent thought.

Murdock drank down the rest of his beer looking for courage, grabbed a few more, and then charged toward his truck knowing he had little choice in the matter. His pride was on the line.





Nine


Nolan Rawlings knew the drive taking Declan to base was going to feel twice as long as it was and suck, but he never realized how bad it would hurt.

It was a given.

It was the first time, ever, beyond a camp or retreat here or there, they’d been apart. They had made it through every milestone in their life side by side and now this—a split road. Declan may push away things he doesn’t understand, but the pair of them both picked fights when they’re broken. It was their way of dealing. It was easier to be mad than hurt.

Nolan knew their ride would be even worse than first predicted because he set it up so Declan could see Justice one more time before he bailed. Nolan was supposed to meet up with her days before but at the last minute, after watching Declan all but break apart when he saw Justice at a distance, he changed his play.

See, the thing was, Nolan had written more than a letter. He had written hundreds and hundreds. He had been writing them since he was twelve.

It was a camp counselor’s fault. He told the kids to never forget their adventurous side. To dream of their next adventure constantly. He told them to make it real, write a letter home explaining all they had done. And then, when they did make it to their adventure—read the old letter, then write another.

Nolan had done so, at every retreat. And sometimes just when he couldn’t sleep at night, he’d write one, dream about where he was going. He’d hidden them all under a loose board in his room.

Over the last six months or so he’d been writing letters to his family, explaining his reasons for secrecy, how much he loved and respected them. How their love and honor had given him the courage to set out and explore, to make a memory or two.

Justice had seen him writing and teased him about having a secret lover. He ended up telling her his plans, and why. And months back he asked her if she would mail his letters for him if he told her when. Of course, she agreed.

That morning, Nolan had taken his time getting his order to go, laughed it up with a few people he knew in the diner, all the while looking out the window at Declan—who took the bait just like Nolan knew he would.

Sure enough, though, Declan left her side too soon and tore across the street to get Nolan.

What Nolan thought would be a ride full of yelling was dead silent. Declan was a million miles away, lost in himself. Every once in a while, they’d pass a familiar exit they had taken in the past for some random reason, and one of them would nod, the other would smile, and that would be it.

At the base their words were tight, not from anger, but emotion. It was real then. They were not there to see their dad, their cousins, their brother Tobias...no, this was Declan’s turn, and he was going it alone.

“Take care, you hear?” Declan said. “Call somebody. They need more than a letter.”

“We’ll be on the road together before you know it,” Nolan said with a tight smile.

One tight hug, hands pounding on the other’s back and that was it, Declan was gone, crossing a threshold that would forever change him.

When Nolan stopped to get gas, he saw the box of letters in the bed of his truck and cursed. He had forgotten about the gesture. Right as he pulled out his phone he saw a text from an unknown number with a ‘?’ and knew it was from Justice by the time stamp alone.

With her next text, she’d told him when and where he could leave them now if he still wanted to. He should have left right then to do so, but he didn’t. He decided to write another letter to Declan, words he could not say that morning.

Then he adjusted his bags so when he finally made it to Mt. Mitchell he’d be ready to go. The task was harder than it sounded. He had compressed and hidden things as well as he could. He’d basically had to rearrange all the toolboxes on Declan’s truck then set his bags just right.

It didn’t take long for him to be recognized near the base. He’d had way too many family and friends crossing through those doors over time.

He ended up meeting a cousin of his for lunch, and spent a few hours with him. Then he called the buddy he was supposed to meet that night and told him he was at least three to four hours behind him, for him to go on and get camp ready.

I knew you’d chicken out, was the instant response he got.

Nolan shook off the insult, just like he shook off the ones his cousin dished out earlier in the day about how he could not believe he was striking out without one look back. “You’ll never make it without your sidekick, and he’ll never make it without you.”

Nolan had thought to punch his cousin because he was worried enough about Declan as it was. For the first time—ever—that morning Declan had seemed like he didn’t want it as much. Instead, Nolan winked and said, “We’re never far. If you f*ck with one us, you can be damn sure you’re gonna face us all.” A nod was the only comeback because truer words had never been spoken.