Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(4)

What they didn’t know was Declan had self-control, and he had priorities. The Sheriff had been itching to take down any one of them for making a fool of his boy, and Declan standing up now would give him every right to—which would, in turn, keep Declan from the date he had been counting down to for over a year now.

Troublemakers do not belong in the Marines, simple as that.

Declan hadn’t even bothered to flinch—he should’ve. Murdock was known for his fastballs. Every catcher had to ice their hand after working with him.

Declan would be a liar if he said his hand wasn’t burning, but he’d be damned if he’d look weak now. Instead, he dropped the ball in the mulch at his feet as his stare dared Murdock to come and get it.

Murdock offered a pissed shake of his head then went back to warming up. The crowd whispered among themselves, somewhat disappointed they didn’t get front row seats to a quarrel that never ended between those two families.

Declan couldn’t help it, his gaze moved to Justice, and there he found a shy curl of her lips waiting on him.

Looking at me like that is dangerous, girl, he thought. He’d just stopped himself from a fight, adrenaline was pumping, and it was bound to go somewhere. Her smile was tempting without the provocation.

“That f*cker is asking for an ass whooping, all but wearing a f*cking sign.”

Declan looked over his shoulder and sighed, knowing the smile Justice was dishing out wasn’t for him.

Just behind him was Nolan, Tobias, and the youngest of the five brothers, Boon.

Each Rawlings boy seemed to be cut from the same mold: tall, broad shoulders, leading to a narrow waist, and layers of taut muscles. They all had dark hair and skin that was kissed by the sun. It was their eyes that set them apart, the way they carried themselves in general.

Out of all the Rawlings, Declan’s brood was thought to be the most reckless, mainly because they grew up without a momma.

She’d hit the high road long ago. Some didn’t blame her; others shamed her just the same.

Declan’s mother married his father when she was seventeen because Tobias was on the way. By the time she was twenty-four, she had five boys. At thirty-two—when their dad came home from his last deployment and they actually spent a year under the same roof—she decided she wanted a life of her own and vanished in the night. They might get a card from her at Christmas now and again.

Her actions, in some ways, caused the Rawlings’ boys to distrust women in general, question their promises. More so, Declan, than any of them. He was close to his mother; even as a child he knew she was too young and carefree for the lot she had dug herself, but still...mommas shouldn’t leave, and his did.

Chasen Rawlings, Declan’s father, made do the best he could after she was gone. But since he owned and operated the only bar the Roughnecks pulled up a stool in, it was hard.

So much so that Tobias, in a way, was both a brother and a father to the boys, mainly because he was very aware of the bullshit they were pulling and did his best to keep them out of it, even taking the rap for shit he didn’t pull.

When he was away, it was Declan’s job to do so with the younger boys.

Tobias was the biggest, and he’d done nothing but pack on more muscle since he graduated and signed the dotted line. Even now, on leave, more than likely about to be honorably discharged, he was still fit as hell. He was determined to not let one rod in his back stop his life at the age of twenty-four.

Tobias spent his days either at their grandpa’s shop or their daddy’s bar, and if not there he was doing something to stay fit. Day in and day out he had been coaching Declan, running him through the hell he was about to go through.

It wasn’t all physical exercises either—Tobias was in his face pushing every button he had, all in the name of growing even thicker skin, grasping even more control. At this point, Declan was sure basic training would be a vacation, even though Tobias swore he hadn’t seen anything yet.

Tobias’s clear blue eyes shined in the sun as he glared down the ball field. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and reached to scratch the near constant five o’clock shadow that accented his strong jawline. His brow was tensed in question, or rather, deep evaluation.

Declan knew from the look in his eye he had already thought of ten ways to kill Murdock and anyone who wanted to stand with him. Tobias would not let anyone take a sucker punch in his presence and God help anyone who thought to take one at one of his kid brothers.

“How old is he now?” he asked whoever knew the answer.

“Seventeen. I got this,” Boon who was the baby, barely sixteen, said.

His hair hadn’t darkened the Rawlings way just yet but was on its way, just like his build was. He had the height and the muscle—he was working on toning up.

Boon knew it would be a life or death matter before Declan threw a punch this close to boot camp, and that Nolan couldn’t because for sure the Sheriff would come after him. And if Tobias did it would be even worse because he’d be hitting a kid. Those Souters liked to hide behind their laws and rules—asshats. If there was a loop in the law, they’d find it and swoop in and take shit like cowards.

Declan gave Boon a hard glance then barely shook his head. Youngest or not, Boon was the wildest and the hardest to deal with.

As Boon stepped forward, Tobias’s arm shot out like a viper. “If you need to be closer to intimidate that fool then you have a lotta growing to do.” Tobias barely moved his lips as he spoke and it was hard to hear him over the wind that was carrying the storm in, but his message hit home. Boon decided to stand just like Tobias, arms crossed and a placid expression at best.