Savior (First to Fight Book 4)

by Nicole Blanchard

  Savior

  Nicole Blanchard

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by Nicole Blanchard

  Savior

  Copyright © 2016 by Nicole Blanchard

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Bolero Books LLC

  11956 Bernardo Plaza Dr. #510

  San Diego, CA 92128

  www.buybolerobooks.com

  All rights reserved.

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmosphPeter purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Editing: Adept Edits

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  Cover Design: Cover It Designs

  ISBN:

  Dedication

  To Pierre, a good man and a great friend.

  He would start over. A kind of rebirth, he figured. A new place, a new life, a new name.

  He’d do it right this time. Be more careful.

  The Sunshine State was the perfect place. It was far enough away from his mistakes that no one would know him, and close enough to bright landscape that were full of opportunities. Miami itself was awash with life and color, vibrant. Life begging to be taken, possessed.

  He follows the crowd out of the airport and slips into the back of the first cab he reaches. He’s already sticky with sweat from the heat, and the cabbie has his air conditioning blasting, which doesn’t do much to cut the humidity.

  “Afternoon.” The cabbie looked back over his shoulder with a weary, but friendly, smile. “Where to?”

  “Southern University. Thanks.”

  Palm trees flashed through the side window and the air was fragrant with the scent of spicy food. He had no concrete plans other than to get as far away as he could. No place could be farther than the southernmost state in the country.

  Traffic was hell, and normally it would test his patience, but nothing could shake his good mood. It took more than an hour to get close to the campus, and by then the fare was well over fifty dollars, but he was too elated to care. It was better than he imagined, so fuck the money. He’d figure something out. Didn’t he always?

  “Anywhere specific?”

  He’s silent, his voice lost beneath the pressure squeezing at his chest, exhilaration caused his hands to grip the leather seats until his knuckles ached. The cabbie repeated his question, and he had to grit his teeth to keep from biting back in impatience.

  “First motel you see.”

  “All right,” the cabbie replied in a lazy drawl.

  The sprawling campus boasted an excellent, and very sought after, curriculum. Students from all over the country flocked to Miami in droves come the start of term, which made his choice even more appropriate. July was just shaking off its last few days, and with August, the swarm of new co-eds would arrive. He’d be able to lose himself in the crowd.

  After another half hour of fighting with traffic, the cabbie pulled into a near-vacant lot in front of a dilapidated motel, a far cry from the posh hotels lining Collins Avenue.

  He paid the fair with a slight wince, stepped out into the soup-like air, and let his bag dangle from one hand. The cab took off, and a barrage of beeps sounded from the fifteen or so other cars he cut off in his rush to get back to the airport. He didn’t turn to look, though, he was too focused on what was in front of him.

  The weekly hotel wasn’t as nice as he’d liked, but he tried not to let the peeling paint or burnt-orange carpet bother him too much. It wouldn’t be long before he found a job, made some money, and rented an apartment closer to campus. He wanted to be right in the heart of it all. He wanted to suck the life right out of the heart of the quaint little college.

  There was something powerful about being the dark spot in a world of bright. The shadow, he thought, as he laid down on the damp bed to stare at the ceiling and plan. The darkness who taints everything.

  He could barely wait.

  The next morning, he was up and out of bed by six, too eager to explore his new life to sleep any longer. The sun wasn’t even over the tops of the towering palm trees, and the campus hadn’t yet woken. The absence of other people made him feel powerful, as if he owned it all.

  Blood thrummed through his veins, causing his black heart to beat faster in his chest. He feels strong. Capable. Violent. Coming down here was the right decision. He wasn’t certain at first, but all doubts have melted away.

  He’s near the south end of the campus when he comes across the first person. A woman—beautiful and in her early twenties, jogging along the track alone. The sight of another person interrupting the stillness of the morning wasn’t what stopped him in his tracks, though. It was her hair. The long, golden trail of it bobbing behind her back as she ran in the opposite direction.

  It called to him like a siren, and he found himself walking toward her, nearly running so he didn’t lose sight of her. All the tension that had been growing since he decided to move to Florida . . . all the excitement and eagerness builds to a near painful crescendo.

  Maybe he’ll go say hi to her. Introduce himself. See if he could get her to talk to him. Hell, maybe she would even give him the grand tour of the campus. Women loved that shit. They loved helping a wounded man, and he learned very quickly how to play wounded when it suited him.

  If she said no, then he would just have to be convincing.

  The faster she ran away from him, the more the hunter inside of him told him to chase. It’s not really his fault. All men had an instinctual drive to chase women inside them. His was just . . . stronger than most. There was no way she would say no to him. It was almost fate that they crossed paths that morning. She wouldn’t be here if she weren’t meant for him.

  He increases his speed to catch up with her. The resulting rush of endorphins buoys his mood even higher. He was invincible.

  “Hey,” he called out once he got c
lose enough for her to hear.

  When she didn’t answer, he ran faster. A few more steps and he could see the earbuds and hear the blasting music. A feral grin stretched across his lips. She couldn’t hear him.

  Even better.

  He glanced around once more to be sure, but it’s still too early for anyone to be on campus. Convinced she was put here for him to take, a gift, he moved up until he was right beside her. With her eyes still on the track in front of her, she didn’t notice him until he leaned over and pulled out an earbud.

  “Boo,” he said, causing her to scream. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” He lied smoothly. Seeing their fear was one of his favorite parts.

  “Jesus.” The word was a wheeze as she pressed a hand to her chest and slowed to a walk.

  “I tried calling out to you,” he said.

  Guiltily, she popped out the earbuds and wrapped the cord around her phone. Inside, he glowed with triumph. She didn’t realize it, but she just made it all that much easier for him to take what he wanted.

  “Uh, hi.” She glanced around but her steps didn’t falter. She was no longer afraid . . . but she would be and he was so looking forward to it.

  “I don’t mean to bother you.” He made sure to lay the reluctance on thick. “I’m new to the area. First time in Florida, actually, and I have no idea where I’m going. You’re the only one I’ve seen so far, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered you. I’m just terribly lost.”

  The tension disappeared from her shoulders, and her smile brightened. “Freshman?” she teased.

  He just laughed. He was surprised to find himself enjoying the buildup of it all. It was almost, almost, as enjoyable as the act itself. “Do I look like a freshman? Let me guess . . . you are?”

  “No! I’m a senior!” She giggled, and he grinned back at her. “Where are you trying to go?”

  He tried to appear repentant. “Not sure, actually. I’m trying to find a better place to stay close to campus. I’m looking at some places today, but I was hoping to find someone with more experience with the area.”

  She gestured in a circle. “Pick a direction,” she said. “You can’t go wrong.”

  She was, of course, very wrong. Just then the track veered to left. To the right, the forest edged up to the asphalt—a gift to start his new life.

  Since he was on her left, it was simple, really. All he had to do was body check her hard enough that she was winded when she went down. He had at least fifty pounds on her, easy, so hitting her hard enough wouldn’t be a problem. He moved so fast that she didn’t even have the chance to scream before she was thrown into the protective line of closely spaced palm trees, their bases lined with the thick spread of Elephant Ear plants.

  He followed after her, the trees swallowing them both. The foliage was lush and thick with vibrant palm fronds that provided excellent coverage. She tried to get up, but he backhanded her with a vicious swing, his knuckles connected with her cheek, and she cried out as blood dripped from her full, beautiful, split lip.

  While she was disoriented, he took her arm and dragged her deeper into the woods by her arms. She eventually collected herself to try to resist, his favorite part, so he turned and gave her two swift kicks to the ribs.

  When they were so far into the woods he couldn’t see the buildings through the trees, he threw her down on the ground and straddled her waist so he could get a better look at her. It was, without a doubt, the best seat in the house.

  Her eyes were bright and wide with fear. She was breathing hysterically, and her mouth was frothing with saliva. The moment she felt his weight on top of her she went wild, thrashing and fighting him.

  He let her go about it for a while, enjoying the way she screamed, but when she got too loud with it, he wrapped his big hands around her throat until all that was left was a strangled cry. He watched the brightness in her eyes fade just enough, and then he let up the pressure—he was a God giving her a gift of her own. He repeated the pressure and release until she grew to expect it, and then he did the other things that made her scream that he enjoyed.

  When she was no longer moving, no longer fighting him, he grew impatient. He shook her, hoping to revive her, but she was too far gone and all she could do was moan and twitch, the life nearly drained out of her.

  Eventually, she all she did was stare, which made him angry. It all happened so fast—too fast. It wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be. Angry with her, with himself, he reached out for something, anything, to expel his anger, and his fingers wrapped around a fallen tree branch that was a satisfying width.

  He lifted it and then brought it down with a satisfying thwack. He did this again and again until he was almost too tired to lift his arm.

  Blood spattered the ground in a dizzying pattern and air whistled from his lungs when he managed to pull himself off of her lifeless body. When the blood stopped rushing in his ears, he detected the sounds of the slumbering school coming to life—the distant call of voices, the sound of cars against the asphalt. With slow, jerky movements, he began the final act with a knife he kept in his back pocket. He never used it on the women—knives were much too easy, but he did keep one on him for exactly this purpose.

  Before he was finished, he was already fantasizing about when he could do it again.

  Piper

  “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  I glance up from my business admin homework at Paige, my identical twin, roommate and best friend. It’d be like looking into a mirror if we weren’t complete opposites in every way but the face we share. “You can’t believe what’s happening?”

  She huffs and plops down on the side of my bed, bobbling my textbook and reams of copious notes. “Carly disappearing.” She rolls her eyes and snatches a paper, toppling a neighboring stack of flash cards. The contents make her frown, and she tosses the paper back down.

  Her foot jiggles, shaking the bed and mixing my carefully organized study system. With a frown, I start lining the pages into neat stacks again. “She probably just ran off with a dude for the weekend. You know Carly.”

  “Not during midterms.” Paige runs both hands through her straightened dishwater blonde hair. It took her nearly two hours to perfect, so I know she must be more frustrated than I originally thought.

  I close my textbook and sit up to give her my full attention. Her face is drawn and pale beneath her tan. When her lips quiver, I take her hand, my eyes catching on the tattoo on the skin between her thumb and forefinger. A sun. I have a small moon in the same place. “Hey, I’m sure she’s fine.”

  Paige leans her head on my shoulder. “I hope you’re right. I just worry.”

  “Mother hen,” I tease, and she elbows me in the ribs.

  A part of me is worried, too. Skipping her midterms isn’t like Carly, our roommate. She’s a typical college girl—a bit boy crazy with a reckless streak. She’s also on a scholarship and studies hard, never skips classes, and always attends the group sessions. I know I have a lot less faith in people than Paige does, but not even I think it is normal for Carly to just dip out on exams. I have a lot less faith in people than Paige does.

  “Do you think I should try calling her again?” Paige says after a few second of silence. Her normally cheerful voice is quiet, soft. It quakes with unshed tears.

  I squeeze her closer to my side and suck back the words I want to say. I’m glad it’s Carly and not Paige. Carly and I are close, but Paige and I are inseparable, especially since we started college. Most twins grow apart as they get older, but not us. If anything, independence has only strengthened our bond.

  “I have a business class later with her. If she’s not there, we’ll track her down and read her the riot act. It’s Monday morning. She probably hasn’t crawled out of whatever bed she landed in over the weekend.”

  Paige sighs and rubs a hand over her face. She punctuates this with a groan and then surges to her feet. “Ugh, you’re right. I know you’re probably right. I just
don’t have a good feeling.”

  “Send her another text.” I get to my feet because her talk of bad feelings has my own stomach twisting with unease—and I’m already stressing about midterms. While Paige starts to pace in front of my bed, I distract myself with getting dressed. Just to spite Paige, I choose my rattiest pair of yoga pants and an over-sized T-shirt the same bright blue as my eyes. “Tell her I said she owes us a round for making us worry about her.”

  Behind me, I hear the click of Paige’s nails against the screen of her phone as she taps out a message. I finish changing and turn around to sit on the bed to put on my socks and tennis shoes. After classes, I like to go out for a run to loosen up. Paige takes one look at my outfit and rolls her eyes.

  Her brief smile fades and then her eyes drop to her hands and the phone, which is still lit up and shows about a dozen unanswered texts to Carly.

  “It’s just not like her,” she says. “I’m worried . . . I’m worried she might be hurt.”

  “I know you are. And if she doesn’t show up by tonight, we’ll call her parents. The cops, even.”

  She chews on the inside of her cheek and seems to struggle over her next words. “You don’t think she’s was . . . kidnapped or something, do you?”

  She doesn’t have to say anything for me to know what she’s talking about, or rather . . . who.

  Three weeks ago, a pretty blonde senior went missing from campus. She just disappeared one morning during a run before classes. For a few days, no one suspected anything until her roommate reported her missing to the police. When they searched the area where her roommates indicated she’d like to jog, they found none of her belongings. They did, however, find blood. It wasn’t enough for them to say conclusively what happened to her, but it was enough to spur a county-wide search that lasted two weeks. Now, they’re only anticipating finding her body and they searches are a fourth of the size they were at the beginning.