Deploy, Part One (Rawlings #1)(82)

Not now.

One family fight and she was all but estranged. It was that easy to be pushed aside. Conditional.

“Justice!” Bell said charging after her. “You didn’t mean it, whatever it was. It’s about more than you and him now.”

“It always has been,” Justice said, glancing back. “There has never been just me and him. I will not trap him. I’m not a burden. This is my family,” she said, putting her hand on her stomach.

Bell sighed, seeing the same stubbornness that she knew had pushed her to stand strong when most would crumble.

Bell’s glance moved to her stomach then up. “You knew what you were getting into. I told you when you were seventeen. That’s a Rawlings, and you can’t hide this forever. No matter how mad you are.”

Justice’s eyes welled but she didn’t cry, the tears were more from anger. She was trapped and she knew it. And she also knew deep down this was the only prison she wanted to be in.

“He should know. At least him,” Bell pushed.

Justice swayed her head. She’d thought about it, constantly. Telling him this, giving him something else to shoulder with the way they left things—she’d yet figure out how, and now time was almost up. He’d be back, and the Rawlings turning cartwheels in her stomach would be present and accounted for.

Justice honestly didn’t know who would show up first. When she finally made it to the doctor, after the denial went away, she was near her second trimester. This baby was created during one of their bouts of heaven, right after they found their way back to one another. If it wasn’t for the family upset that tore them apart, more than likely they both would’ve been more than aware a baby was coming before he left on his seven-month tour.

Before Bell could push a little more, use the doubt she saw in Justice’s eyes, the doorbell rang and Justice pulled it open yelling, “What!” at the teenage kid on her doorstep, who jarred back.

After looking at her like she was crazy he held forward a grease stained box. “I think this is yours.”

Looking at him like he was insane and not caring that he thought she was, she took the box.

Inside was another box that had her name on it.

“What is this?”

“Letters you wanted to mail I guess, lady. I don’t know. I found it in the toolbox attached to the truck my granddaddy bought off you for me. It was the old Chevrolet he paid for in cash—‘member?”

Justice only stared at him like he was a fool. They had sold all her father’s stuff, piece by piece. His old truck he used to drive around town was one of the last things to go, mainly because it was attached to the trailer that almost went up in flames.

The Sheriff told them to leave all of the shop stuff be for a long while. Finally, Bell sold the truck and trailer, determined to get the house down to only one lien.

“I cleaned that truck out myself,” Bell said with wide eyes.

“Yes, ma’am, you see the toolbox had a lower compartment. I didn’t find it till I pulled it off a few days ago so we could paint it. Got it looking sweet,” he said with a nod behind him.

Seeing her father’s truck in the drive, no matter what color it was almost made Justice retch.

“I meant to bring it by a few days ago, but it was too hard to get a ride all the way out here.”

Justice went down to her knees, holding the box to her as if it were a lifeline, shock in her gaze.

“You all right?” the kid asked, getting in her face, but by then Dawson was coming down the stairs two at a time and Bell had her arm around Justice.

They were Nolan’s letters. His words, his last words...they were in her hands.

***

Nolan hadn’t addressed them, a few were not even sealed, just a single name on each.

Justice wanted to rip them all open, read every word and then pick up the trail and find Nolan. Slay that one demon—fix their family and give the love of her life peace.

Providence was at her house within the hour. The letters did more than give the Rawlings’ closure and a way to hear Nolan’s voice once more—they changed the timeline. Nolan had circled back; he’d made it to Justice’s house.

Knowing her father could’ve crossed Nolan unnerved Justice all the more. Any time her father was brought up, any of this was brought up—Murdock came back around and she could not deal with him.

She didn’t even want to deal with the Rawlings. How could she look at them and see pieces of Declan? She’d miss him all the more and be reminded that the boy had changed her in ways that were now everlasting.

The fact that Declan hadn’t called, emailed, texted, written, nothing—didn’t help anything at all. It gave Justice enough doubt and anger to think a little longer on how she was going to break her news to him...their news.

When the letters were given to the Rawlings, Justice was dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and stayed at a distance. Her eyes never met anyone’s for very long.

There were more arguments. No one wanted the Sheriff’s office involved, but they had little choice if it meant the timeline changed. Justice left in the middle of the fight, she’d heard it all before.

A few weeks later, she was sitting at her favorite coffee shop, drinking water and studying, when someone pulled the chair across from her out.

When she looked up she met the troubled gaze of Chasen Rawlings. At first, she feared the worst and nearly retched. She didn’t turn crimson but white as a ghost.