First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5

by Nicole Blanchard

“You’ll do it?” he asks.

  “Yes, I’ll do it.”

  He sighs again, but this time I can hear the relief, even over the connection. “Good. That’s good.”

  “You’ll have to give me a couple days to get everything tied up over here. Give notice at work and to my landlord, but I should be able to come back this weekend.” Having made the decision, the rest comes more easily. In for a penny.

  “Yeah, that’s fine. The boys are out of school for the next few weeks so they aren’t going to miss anything and I’ve spoken to their teachers so they understand they’ll be going through some transitions at home.”

  My chest burns and I choke out, “God, you would have made such a good dad.”

  He pauses and clears his throat as he changes the subject, which is probably for the best. “You’re going to do fine,” he says.

  I get up and cross the room to refill my glass of wine. Next to the half-empty bottle are the charred remains of the papers I’d retrieved from Mom’s house. “I guess we’re going to find out, aren’t we?”

  “You’ll do fine,” he repeats.

  I change the subject. His comfort is a little too sweet. A little too much to handle. “What about the house? It looked like some of it was starting to fall apart.”

  “Parts of it are in pretty bad shape, but I can help you with that.” Before I can speak around the lump in my throat, he says, “Most of your mom’s life insurance will go to paying off her doctor’s bills, the funeral expenses, but the amount leftover should be enough for repairs.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but you’ve already done more than enough.” Besides, him hulking around the house with his shirt off is entirely out of the question.

  “Look,” he says plainly, “I’m glad you’re stepping up, but I’m not going to go away just because you’re coming back. They deserve some stability. I’m going to stick around, at least for a little while, to make sure you don’t run out on them the first chance you get.”

  Well, that hurt. I gulp more wine. “Fine, knock yourself out.”

  “I can manage them this week, but then they’re all yours. I’ll come out to the house to finish cleaning up and assess what needs to be done from there.”

  “Fine,” I say, peering into my cabinets for more wine. If I’m going to need to be an adult, I might as well finish off the booze I have now before I become responsibility’s bitch.

  “I’ll get in touch with the social worker and I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

  “Wonderful.” I pop open another bottle, eyeing it appreciatively.

  The sound of a door opening and a feminine voice filter over the line. “I’ve gotta go, but call me when you’re on your way back, okay?”

  “Sure,” I choke out.

  The line clicks and I stare at the wine, then I go back to the cabinet and grab the remaining two bottles.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  A reasonable person would assume that getting three people dressed and out the door on time for dinner would be an easy task.

  One would also be dead-ass wrong.

  As I stand on the front porch steps shouting, for the third time, that I’m leaving in five seconds, I come to the conclusion that reasonable people also don’t have children.

  Clearly you have to be crazy to reproduce. I’m surprised the rest of the world hasn’t caught on. I’ve only had these guys a couple of days and I’m ready to call mercy. From school and basketball practice to sibling rivalry and past resentments. I’ve had a crash-course in being a parent and I’m not sure if I’m cut out for it.

  “All right,” I scream through the front door. “That’s it. If you’re not in the car, you’re getting left behind and I don’t want to hear any bitching when I don’t bring any leftovers—including dessert—back here to you ungrateful brats.”

  What I can only assume is a stampede of obese elephants comes from the stairs and my brothers appear out of breath and red-faced in the doorway. “Did you say dessert?” Donnie asks, his face upturned and open for the first time since I picked them up this morning.

  My rage softens marginally. “Well, Ben may have eaten it all now, but if you hurry, sometimes Livvie sneaks some before he can get it.”

  Donnie beelines for my car and I sigh. Apparently, bribery is the only way to get a kid to do what you want. I make a mental note to write a book about it. I could make millions selling them to sleep-deprived parents.

  Rafe isn’t as easily sold, but not wanting to be left alone, he reluctantly follows Donnie. I have a feeling he’s going to be a lot harder to win over than his brother.

  He reminds me of…well, me. Which doesn’t bode well considering my track record and awards in stubbornness.

  They settle in the backseat with the barest amount of grumbling. I count that as a win on my part. I’ve had a scant few of those since Jack and I broke the news about me becoming their guardian a couple days ago. It’s been an uphill battle ever since…one I’m clearly losing.

  “How long until we get there?” Rafe asks. I look in the rearview and see him staring moodily out the window. His lips are pulled down and his arms are crossed over his chest. A pang shoots through me.

  My voice softens. “We’re almost there.”

  Livvie’s place comes into view and my hands unclench a little on the steering wheel. Livvie was a natural mother. When she had her son Cole, she took to it like second nature. She would know what to do with my brothers. If nothing else, her calming presence would help alleviate my anxiety for the time being.

  I park next to Livvie’s car and I feel a smile spreading across my face. My mother’s house held too many memories, ones I’d rather leave dead and buried. Livvie’s place, however, feels like home.

  “This is it?” Rafe asks incredulously.

  I roll my eyes and head up to the front door. If they want to come, fine. If not, they can wait out in the cold.

  Livvie answers my knock with a bright smile. She wraps me in a hug and squeals. “I know it’s a bad situation,” she says, “but I can’t hide that I’m happy you’re here.”

  “Thanks for making dinner,” I tell her. I’m probably squeezing her too hard, but I have to admit, it’s good to see her, too. Good to see anyone who can look at me without a tinge of disappointment.

  “Of course. I can’t wait to see your brothers. I haven’t seen them in ages. How are they doing with everything?”

  “They’re outside,” I roll my eyes.

  Livvie nods slowly. “I see. That good, huh?”

  “They’re probably just waiting to see if you still have dessert.”

  “I have plenty of dessert,” she says, raising her voice. “I made double fudge brownies.”

  “Subtle.”

  She winks at me and smiles when the herd of elephants bounds up the porch steps.

  The boys pause, seemingly remembering their manners.

  “Livvie, these are my brothers Donnie and Rafe. Guys, this is my best friend, Livvie.”

  They start to speak, but a godawful sound grows louder and closer. We all turn to find Ben chasing a cackling Cole down the front hall. He’s naked except for a pair of training underwear.

  Cole, that is, not Ben.

  “Excuse us,” Livvie says. “We’re protesting pants this week.”

  I smirk. “Don’t worry, I protest proper pants every week.”

  “That’s called laziness, babe.”

  I stick out my tongue at her.

  I don’t know how she manages it, but I feel immediately at ease as Livvie ushers us inside while Ben reigns in his son. The cabin used to belong to her father. After his death, Ben bought the house for her. I avert my eyes as he kisses her softly on the lips, Cole still racing around them like a maniac. If anyone deserved warmth and love, it’s Livvie.

  “Why don’t you guys come with us and let the ladies do their thing?” Ben throws a squealing Cole over his shoulder. “If you’re lucky, maybe we can sneak out and I’ll let
you take a ride on my Harley.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Livvie shouts at Ben’s retreating back. “Ben!” She turns back to me smiling. “Well, that would be one way to take care of your problem.”

  For the first time since moving back to Nassau, I laugh. “Thank you for having us. How did you know I didn’t want to spend tonight alone?”

  She tugs my arm toward the kitchen. “It’s a gift. Now c’mon, we can lick the batter mix while the boys play with their toys and you can fill me in on what’s going on.”

  A couple minutes—and more than a couple spoonful’s of chocolate—later, Livvie hands me a beer and orders, “Spill.”

  I take a huge sip, okay gulp, from the bottle and enjoy its coolness as I consider my response. “I don’t really know what else there is to say. It all happened so fast. A few weeks ago, I was living my life and it wasn’t anything special, but it was mine. And now I have these two humans depending on me. I know it sounds all woe is me, but, shit, what if I screw them up? I’m no paragon of virtue here. Who would actually want me to take care of their kids?”

  Livvie offers me another spoon caked in fudge. “You are way too hard on yourself. You’re going to be fine.”

  “They’ve survived so far and that’s with my cooking so I guess I can consider it a good sign.”

  “Still,” Livvie says, “you did the right thing, taking them. They need you.”

  I chug half of my beer to chase down the chocolate and lift one shoulder.

  “How are they taking it?”

  “I don’t know if I’m qualified in teenager-speak to answer you, but I think they’re doing as well as can be expected, considering. Donnie more so than Rafe. Rafe hates my guts, that’s clear, but Donnie is willing to forgive and forget.”

  Livvie sets her beer down carefully and chews on her lip before squaring her shoulders. “I’m going to say one thing, and then we won’t talk about it again. You did the right thing. I know kids weren’t in your plans, and you’ve never explained to me why you had to leave, but I assume coming back to Nassau wasn’t in your plan either.” She looks out the window for a few seconds, then back at me. “I would have given anything to have someone like you so that I didn’t have to go into foster care. I was lucky, the Walker’s adopted me, even though I was a teenager. I was lucky they were a great family. Your brothers may not have been so lucky.”

  “I don’t know anything about having a family, Liv.”

  “You can learn,” she says, eyes shining. “You can learn together. I promise you, taking on those boys is going to be the best decision you’ve ever made.”

  That statement is punctuated by screams from outside. I throw Livvie a sardonic look. “You were saying?”

  She rolls her eyes. “I’m going to go check on them. Wait here and I’ll refill our appetizers.”

  “I don’t think brownie mix and beer can be considered an appetizer.”

  “Well we’ve already come to the conclusion that you’re no cook so what would you know?”

  I switch from beer to water and chug a cool glass of it while Livvie checks on the boys. From my vantage point at the window, I see Ben helping the boys take turns sitting on the motorcycle. I find myself smiling when Donnie nearly falls off the thing. Both of them are laughing and smiling openly for the first time since I’ve been home.

  After dinner, the boys are fully absorbed in the newest first-person shooter with Ben. I would even go so far as to say they’ve had a good time. Both got second helpings of dessert and neither have shown much attitude. In the interest of being transparent with myself, I know that’s mostly Livvie’s doing. Her easy-going nature makes everyone feel at home. Plus, her brownies are to die for.

  The real worry is what happens when we get back to my mother’s and no longer have a buffer.

  I notice Cole passed out between his parents. Smiling in spite of my reluctance, I say, “Looks like we’d better get going. Little guy can’t hack it.”

  Livvie covers a yawn and laughs. “Apparently I can’t either.”

  The boys groan and inwardly, I agree. I’d much rather stay at Livvie’s than go back to my mother’s house and face reality.

  “Thanks again for having us over,” I tell them, instead of begging them to let me stay.

  “Anytime,” Ben says with a smile.

  Donnie and Rafe lumber to the front door with Livvie and I following close behind. I can hear the comforting sound of Ben humming to Cole as he makes his way toward the back of the house, presumably to lay Cole down for the night.

  “And you’ll think about what I said?”

  “I probably won’t stop thinking about it for the foreseeable future.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  “Your friends are nice,” Donnie says as we walk back to my car.

  “Yeah, they’re pretty great.” I catch his eye over his brother’s head and smile.

  “I can see why you visit them instead of us,” Rafe spits out.

  I sigh. So much for the laughing and smiling, I guess. There’s no use in making excuses. The only thing I can do is use this time to make it up to them.

  The ride home is silent and charged with Rafe’s accusation and my own shame. It’s not entirely unfounded, but whatever. He’s just a kid. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

  By the time we reach Mom’s house, I’ve resolved to ignore Livvie’s advice. Clearly, I’m not cut out for this caretaker gig.

  Donnie’s easy smile is gone and the sugar high has reached the crash stage on Rafe’s part. As they skulk back to the house, a fluttering sound draws my attention to the porch, and then to the front door where a piece of white paper is stuck between the screen door and the frame.

  It takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up. My fingers adhere to the door handle and my insides turn to ice.

  The boys wait on the porch, turned to me, identical eyebrows raised. They look so small, dwarfed by the extravagant lines of the porch. I have the most ridiculous urge to get them, shove them, just, take them away. Anything to keep them from being tainted by this place and my own mistakes.

  Swallowing down the bitter mix of fear and bile, I step out of the car on shaky knees. I clear my throat, my eyes burning, and slowly walk toward the steps.

  “You okay?” Donnie asks, peering at me with furrowed brows.

  I ruffle his hair, his sweet face distracting me from my panic. “I’m fine. Thanks. Let’s get you guys inside.”

  The paper is innocuous, really. To anyone else, it would seem to be an advertisement. Maybe one of those church group info cards, but I know better.

  Boy, do I know better.

  I get them inside and to their rooms without much protest. No doubt the past few days have worn them out. While the house grows quiet around me, I retreat to the office, where I’ve made a camp of sorts. Nothing could have made me take my old room, and I couldn’t very well take my mom’s. The mere thought gives me goosebumps.

  I turn the lamp on and boot up my computer, thinking maybe I’ll get some work done to take my mind off things. In reality all I do is stare at the screen, contemplating the piece of paper waiting on the corner of the desk.

  When I do, I know it will open every single thing I’ve been running from. The solid life I’ve built for myself, the careful distance I’ve cultivated between me and everyone else, it’ll all evaporate.

  Then again, I’m rarely able to resist temptation.

  But isn’t this what I was hoping for when I came back? Didn’t I want to face the demons that drove me away.

  I rip open the piece of clear tape.

  Jack

  Nassau is a small town. Small enough that minor events make waves.

  Sofie Varano’s return has the potential to wipe out small civilizations.

  “Have you made a move yet?” Ben asks. He hisses out a breath as he tries to max out his bench weight at 315 lbs.

  I frown at the line of questioning, already tempted to let the bar slip just a little to
crush his windpipe so we don’t have to have this conversation. Not a lot, just enough so that he can’t talk about it anymore.

  Ever.

  I swear he’s more of a gossip than my sister.

  “She’s got her hands full with the boys,” I say instead, steadily guiding the bar with three Cadillac forty-fives on either side up in a smooth motion. “It’s not like this is a social call.”

  “I bet you’d like for it to be a social call.” Ben eases the bar back down. The bastard. I pray for muscle failure. “Livvie says she thinks it’s good for her, being back with the boys and all.”

  I grunt in response. Just hearing about her, talking about her, like this feels a little too normal, a little too much like old times. Times I’ve tried to put behind me. Hard to do when every neighbor, cashier, and former friend insists on bringing it up.

  “She thinks you two are destined to get back together now that she’s back for good.” He lifts the bar again and I concentrate on steadying the weight. Or at least, I try to. Damned if I want to admit that I’m all too interested in the possibility myself.

  “The only reason she came back is for her brothers. She and I have nothing to do with it.”

  “Then why are you going over there to help out with the house? Why not just let her fall on her ass like you and I both know you want to?” Ben asks.

  My mind goes to those boys and the promises I’ve made. To their hopeful, expectant faces when I promised I wouldn’t abandon them right away. “Because her house is a health hazard,” I reply. “And I promised Donnie and Rafe.” I guide the weights to the stand and Ben sits up, wincing and rolling his shoulders. “Now are we gonna go a couple rounds in the ring or do you want to keep fucking talking like a couple of chicks?”

  “No need to get your panties in a wad,” Ben says grinning.

  “Asshole,” I spit out.

  He throws an arm around my shoulders. “You know you love me.”

  “You and your wife think that means I won’t kick your ass.”

  Ben just smirks. “I’ve got an hour or so before Liv will be back from the doctor’s. First one to tap owes the other a beer.”

  I grin back at him, blood heating and muscles turning loose. Maybe a couple hits to the head will knock some sense into me. “You’re on.”