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went on for a few more minutes as they repeated what she needed to do as if she were a fool.
    Finally, she hung up, but before she looked up at Declan she sent a text to her grandmother, telling her she was safe in coded words: anchored safely, wings are above me.
    If her father saw such words, he’d see them as a form of prayer, something common Justice would say to her grandmother, a windowed preacher’s wife. When in reality, she’d told her grandmother she was with a Rawlings, her Rawlings.
    The anchor and wings were just two symbolic elements in the Marine Corps emblem. One her grandmother knew well because of her father and brothers’ service. 
    Her grandmother was pretty much Justice’s best friend, and in a real way had been the only mother she’d known. Justice had friends her age, but still, only her grandmother knew what life was really like behind closed doors.
    For a while now Bell had known Justice was in love with Declan Rawlings, and she understood exactly why that was so dangerous.
    Weeks before when she found Justice crying over Declan, Bell told her to find a way to say her peace, her goodbye. Exactly what Justice’s teenage heart did not need to hear, but then Bell explained more, the boy was going to be gone soon. And for all Justice knew, she might not be fond of the man who returned. Then again, she might—either way she should say her peace, so when she looked back she didn’t regret anything.
    So be it , she thought as she finally glanced up to see Declan looking enraged at the world.
    ***
    D eclan had all but bit his tongue just to remind himself not to say something he’d regret, like give this girl a ‘come to Jesus’ lecture about how she didn’t belong with an asshole who could forget her— who could ever forget Justice? And then follow that up with the fact that he thought her father was a rip roaring asshole who needed to figure out how to put a cork in his bottle and mouth— who cusses a girl out because some other asshole forgot her?
    Yep. Too much adrenaline was running through him and there she was an innocent lamb locked in a cage with him.
    He settled with saying, “Looks like your ride’s a dick.”
    Justice smiled coolly even though her heart was thundering. “I tend to disagree with that popular belief.”
    Of course she was talking about him, but would he realize that? She had no idea. He never responded when she tried to flirt, he just looked at her like she was crazy—sometimes like she was his biggest enemy.
    He turned his head to the wind so she couldn’t hear the cuss word he let out.
    And there it is, Justice thought when she saw his hard expression. Even though he constantly looked furious when she was near him...it was the only place she really wanted to be. There was something about his deep baritone voice, his reserve, the control he had that made her feel safe.
    Distant storm sirens wailed.
    “Pack it up, girl. We gotta get away from this door,” Declan said with a huff.
    Holy shit, this is for real happening , Justice thought to herself as she tried to squash the butterflies in her gut. This was not her daydreaming as she drifted to sleep, this was not her stealing a glance at him. It was real. And it would be the last time she was ever alone with this boy.
    “You cold?” he asked as he felt her tremble once he grasped her hand to help her up.
    The wind was howling and the air was moist with rain, causing her skin to look all the more inviting to him. Her eyes were as electric as the approaching storm felt. She didn’t look like a girl right then, she looked like a woman. Like a woman who had always had his number.
    Justice made it to her feet, but in her nervousness she dropped her book and a few notes she had.
    Declan leaned down to help her and right as he did she stood and turned, slamming into his chest—so hard that it threw her off balance. His hands landed on her hips to steady her. He hissed on contact. She felt too right under his touch.