Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(46)

Justice turned beet red as she backed out from behind the counter. Even though it was too late to hope for such a thing, she didn’t want a scene—now she just wanted to hush what had already started.

If Josh thought she was partying, and running with more than one boy, he couldn’t be the only one in this town who assumed the same. The man hadn’t ever had an independent thought in his life. Most of the waitresses walked all over him. He was a classic middle management ‘I hate life’ soul.

“I don’t want no trouble, Nash,” Josh said, changing his tune.

“Then I’d suspect yelling at teen girls who just lost their father would be the wrong way of going ‘bout things.” Nash lifted his jaw, then glanced around the diner that was tuned in with what was going down. “My garage picked up Bell Everly’s broken down car a half hour ago. I would imagine that might be why Justice is having to depend on rides to and from this shithole of a job.”

No one said a word. You could hear a pin drop in the diner that not only had every seat full, but a wait to be seated. Even the cooks were standing stock still, peering out from the kitchen.

“But either you didn’t know that, or you didn’t care. I’m betting it’s the latter.” He cast his stare around the room, ignoring the smirk both Tobias and Chasen were sporting from the doorway. “Gossip hounds please take out your cellular devices, pen, paper, what have you and let it be known Josh here fired this girl because she had a string of bad luck. And I’m hiring her because I can recognize someone who not only wants to work, but has to.” He glanced around, daring anyone to even think a cross word about Justice Rose. “And if anyone gives a damn. I’m giving her a ride home.”

Justice’s chest was heaving, her skin was darker than any rose, but she felt pride.

Right as she looked at the door, a way to run from the spotlight, she saw Monty Stouter standing there. She had no idea how much he’d seen or heard, but he was speechless at that moment. Even if he did have something to say it would have been hard to hear. The entire diner started to applaud the Rawlings’ as they escorted Justice Rose out.





Thirteen


Every day Justice went to the post office, and every afternoon when Missy Rawlings dropped her off she checked her mailbox.

Not another letter came...

Life had gotten better and worse all at once. She still spent time with Murdock. He’d show up and watch a movie with her, or take her to eat somewhere. They’d even meet up with friends, but at best they only saw each other a few days a week throughout the rest of the summer. And those were usually the two days she had off from the Rawlings’ Garage.

Nash Rawlings wasn’t joking, not that Justice thought he was. He hired her as a clerk at his garage. She set up appointments, called clients when their cars were ready, checked them in and out. Filed. Basically, she was Missy Rawlings’ personal assistant, and she was good with it.

Justice wasn’t making quite as much as she had at the diner, but it was still better. The pay by the hour allowed her to know for sure how much money she was bringing home. The garage didn’t charge Bell for the repairs on her car. Justice’s lunch was always bought for her, and at least once a week Missy would drop off a casserole when she picked up Justice, telling Bell it was too hard for her to remember the boys were not there when she cooked sometimes. And if Missy didn’t do that she invited Bell and Justice to their family dinner on Sundays where all of Declan’s brothers and his dad came, and would then send them home with enough food to last a week. The Rawlings had a way of giving without making you feel like a charity case.

Bell and Justice started to make ends meet, more times than they had in years. One debt at a time, but still, they were making it...

The nights were the worst. Justice still shot out of bed in the middle of the night drenched in sweat. She still felt sick when she remembered the blood, the smell of it mixing with gas and oil. Grief and fear had her in a strangle hold she could not free herself from.

Justice kept her struggle with the way she felt about Declan to herself. She couldn’t figure out why he had written so much and then just stopped. Everything rushed through her mind. From her response being too detailed, to the way she signed the letters. All of it.

She’d learned not to flinch or blush when she heard his name at the garage, because she did often. He was still writing letters to his family. Justice knew, because she was the one who put them on Nash’s desk. Declan’s pictures, from the time he was a boy to recent ones were all over Missy’s desk which Justice shared with her.

Knowing him, or even Nolan, was never outright mentioned. Which made her feel equally comfortable and uncomfortable.

Justice wanted to look forward to the Rally, to Declan coming home for the few days he would be there but as it approached, as Missy took full advantage of her personal assistant and had Justice running all over town picking up food and supplies, Justice’s gut grew even more twisted.

She decided she was mad at Declan. And he was an ass. She was just fine before he decided to make her life by writing her. Then what did he do? He gave her hope and snatched it away just like Declan Rawlings had always done.

“Bell said she wasn’t sure you were going to make it to the Rally, what’s that business about?” Missy asked, putting the daily lunch order down in front of Justice.