First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5

by Nicole Blanchard

  “Jack, please, I don’t—”

  “Last thing, baby, you can do it. Then we’ll take you home, get you cleaned up.”

  Her fingers clutch at the thin jacket she’s wearing, tugging it more securely around her waist. “He’s here. In town.”

  Fucking bastard. No wonder he looked so goddamned smug. My arms tighten around her slim body for a second, then I force them to relax. “Has he done something since you’ve been back? He’s been harassing you this whole time?”

  “No,” she hurries to clarify, “no. He hasn’t bothered me since…since that night. I think he was in jail. He just wrote me…letters.”

  I fill in the blanks. “That’s what you were so fired up to get from your mom’s. Letters he’d written?”

  “He sent the first one the day after. I found it on my car when I…when I went back for it. The next time he gave it to Rafe, though he doesn’t remember that now, thank God. That’s when I knew I had to leave. I didn’t want him near my family, Jack. I didn’t want his ugliness to touch them, too. He found out where I lived in college, it freaked my roommates out so I had to move. He always knew where I was. I didn’t know what to do. When I came back every now and then to check in, see the boys or Livvie, I’d leave the letters at Mom’s because I wasn’t sure what else to do with them.”

  “God, Sofie.” All this time. All this time and she’d been terrified of a man who I thought was my friend.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice almost nonexistent.

  Forcing myself to keep my touch gentle and my voice level, I say, “You don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

  “I should have told you sooner. Should have gotten help.”

  I tip up her chin and look into her watery eyes. “You did what you had to do. I don’t doubt that at all.”

  There’s a moment there where she looks up at me and it’s like she wants me to kiss her and I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my life. But it’s not the right time, couldn’t make a worse time if I try, so I lift her to her feet.

  “Let’s get you home,” I say.

  “Jack, there’s more—” she starts, but I cut her off.

  “Later. You’ve had enough for now.”

  And I don’t know if I’m capable of handling more without hunting down the man himself and taking vengeance into my own hands.

  Sofie

  “What’s going on?” Rafe asks as he climbs into Jack’s truck. Jack had called their friend’s mom on the way from the gym to let them know we’d be by early to pick them up.

  “We need to have a chat, is all. Donnie, why don’t you hop in? We’ll pick up a pizza before we go to your house.”

  The boys eye him warily, frowning when they find me nearly in the fetal position in the front seat. Such a good impression to make on them. Good job, Sof. You’re a hell of a role model. Wait until the social workers hear about this.

  Donnie surprises us all when he stands resolutely on the sidewalk, a frown pulling at his lips. “No. What’s going on with Sofie?” His eyes brush over my face and I glance away, not wanting him to see the bits of emotion remaining in my eyes. I must not do a good enough job because he nearly growls. “Did you make her cry again?”

  We all look at him in shock.

  “Did you?” he repeats.

  “He didn’t make me cry.”

  “Then why are your eyes all red again?” he asks.

  “Well, okay, I was crying, but it doesn’t have to do with him.” Not really.

  Donnie shoots Jack a furious glance. “All you do when he’s around is get upset.” He tugs his jacket more securely around his shoulders.

  “Look—” Jack begins.

  “No. Sofie’s been real nice to us and we want her to stay. If you keep yelling at her, you’re going to make her go away again.” His little chest is heaving at the end of his tirade. Jack and I share a glance.

  “He didn’t make me upset. It’s a long story, one I’ll explain. Later.” I cut off my explanation when Jack puts a hand on my arm.

  “Look,” he says again to Donnie, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. It was out of line and I didn’t mean it.”

  Donnie’s lip quivers. “You always told us that real men were nice to women. What you said to her wasn’t very nice.”

  “I know. I was angry and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I can’t apologize enough for that, but I’d like to have the opportunity to make it up to you.” He directs the next part to me. “To all of you.”

  I nod at him, then say to Donnie and Rafe, “I know I haven’t been the best sister and having me back in your lives hasn’t been the easiest thing to adjust to, but I want to keep trying. I want to be here for you. To be a family. Jack and I have our own issues we have to work through, but from now on they won’t touch either of you. That’s a promise.”

  Rafe glances between the two of us. “Did something happen?”

  “We just want the best for you guys, that’s all. So what do you say?”

  Donnie pauses, then gets in the truck and buckles up. “Can we have sausage on the pizza?”

  A weight lifts from my chest and I reach into the back seat to pull their necks to me for a brief hug. “I don’t know what I ever did without you guys.”

  “I’m sure you were miserable,” Rafe says. “We’re awesome.”

  A laugh bubbles up in my throat. “Yes you are,” I say.

  It won’t repair all the damage, but it’s a start. For both me and the boys and me and Jack.

  I glance at him as he pulls away from the curb. Without turning, he places a hand on my knee. My eyes flicker down to it resting against my thigh. It’s been a long time since I had a man’s hands on me and felt…anything. Warmth furrows through my jeans and heats me from the inside out, just from one small point of contact. He squeezes and I meet his eyes.

  “We’ll talk more later,” he says. “For now, just relax for God’s sake and let me take care of you for a while.”

  “I don’t know about that, I think we both had enough when the boys and I were sick, but we can maybe have that truce you wanted. Be friends, or try to.”

  His eyes deepen, turning dark green. “We’ll talk about that, too.”

  My response clogs in my throat and all I can manage in response is a nod.

  I watch the scenery blur in the window and cover his hand with my own. It’s big, bigger than I remember, and worn rough from years of hard work in the Marines and at the gym. After a few seconds, he releases his hold on my thigh and surprises us both by turning his hand over to hold mine.

  When he stops at a stop light, he leans across the center console and kisses me on the forehead. There’s no heat behind it—at least not right now—and my eyes flutter closed. I didn’t realize how much I missed his touch, missed him, until I let him close. Let him in.

  Now that he’s wormed his way past my defenses, I have the feeling he’s not going to let me go as easily this time.

  At least, not without a fight.

  And I don’t know if the turmoil in my stomach is from excitement or fear.

  The three of them must be in cahoots because they spend the next three hours using a variety of tactics to blot out the dark cloud over my head. I chuck a piece of sausage from my pizza at Rafe’s head.

  He turns and lifts an eyebrow. “What the hell was that for?”

  Jack smacks him across the head. “Don’t say hell.”

  Rafe rubs his head still looking at me. “Are you tryin’ to start a food fight, sis?”

  My belly warms. “Not a chance. I clean up after you brats all day. There’s no way I want to make my job harder.”

  “Then what’s the deal?”

  I shrug, smiling. “Just felt like it.”

  Rafe laughs and tosses the piece of sausage back up at me. I catch it mid-air and grin at him before tossing it in the empty pizza box.

  “You look just like Mom when you do that,” he says.

  I freeze on the couch, my back le
aning up against Jack’s chest, his arm swung over the back. Rafe sits at my feet on the other end and Donnie is laying on the floor. He also freezes mid-laughter, looking up at us.

  “What do you mean?” I manage when I’ve caught my breath.

  “You’ve got her smile,” he says with a lift of his shoulders. “She always used to say you did, I remember Dad saying it, but I didn’t see it until now.”

  My smile dies and I gulp around the knot in my throat. “I should have been here,” I tell him, ignoring the comedy we ordered to go with the junk food. “I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

  “She missed you a lot,” he says, taking a bite of pizza. “I think she understood why you left, even if we didn’t.”

  The room narrows and I force myself to breathe through the weight pressing in on my chest. “The reason I left—”

  “Sofie,” Jack starts, but I wave him off.

  “The reason I left,” I say, more steadily this time, “was because someone hurt me and I was afraid to stay here. In Nassau. I was afraid he’d come back. Hurt one of you guys.” Sitting up, I fold my legs under me and bring a hand to Rafe’s cheek. “It was never anything either of you did.” I look at Donnie to make sure he understands I include him, too. “It was me. I was scared. A coward.”

  “You’re not a coward,” Jack says. “You’re the strongest woman I know. Even though it hurt your mom when you left, she knew you loved her.”

  “She told us about you all the time,” Donnie says, scooting up to lay his hand on top of mine. I turn mine over and squeeze his, tears blurring my vision.

  I wipe a hand over my eyes. “Okay, I didn’t mean for this to turn into another waterworks session so let’s just finish the movie.”

  Donnie presses play on the controller, but he doesn’t let go of my hand for the rest of the movie. Rafe pulls my feet onto his lap and Jack wraps an arm around my waist. I give in to the comfort of his touch and tuck my head into his shirt, inhaling his spicy male scent and sniffling. They’re all there, supporting me.

  I didn’t realize how much I needed those hands there to catch me.

  I never thought they’d forgive so easily.

  Or that I deserved their forgiveness.

  “I thought I told you to relax,” Jack says, his arm tightening around me.

  “Well, that’s easier said than done. I feel like I’m waiting on the other shoe to drop.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about that for now?”

  Glancing up at him, I say, “Were you always this pushy?”

  He smiles. “Were you always this stubborn?”

  “I’m going to take that as a yes,” I say, turning back to focus on the movie, though I have no idea what’s going on.

  I don’t know how the hell he expects me to relax. Doesn’t it bother him? How close we are? How easily his hands move over my body? Like the time separating us is inconsequential. Being with him, touching him, used to be easy.

  As the minutes pass and my muscles loosen, I sink into his arms, my head pressed right up against his chest, his heartbeat a reassuring thud in my ear. My fingers rest on the flat of his abdomen, just a thin layer of cloth between his stomach and my fingers. My breathing turns erratic as my awareness of him increases.

  When his fingers start to trail along the length of my arm that’s draped over my hip, I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly through my teeth. The tips of his fingers make light paths over my arm and down to my wrist at a leisurely pace.

  His touch may be causal, hell, it could even be an afterthought, but the reaction inside of me is anything but. I barely recognize the stirrings in my stomach, the tightening. I haven’t felt this way since…well, since him.

  By the time the movie ends, I’ve forgotten everything but the touch of his hands. As he lifts me to my feet to help clean up the empty paper plates and dirty cups, I realize he got what he wanted. I’ve never felt so relaxed in my life.

  Shaking off the floaty feeling, I get to my feet and herd the boys toward the stairs. “Brush your teeth,” I remind them as they clomp upstairs.

  It’s not until their footsteps recede and I turn to face Jack behind me that I realize we’re alone down here. The secrets that were like a person standing between us are out in the open now. There’s no hiding, no running from him.

  Though based on the look in his eye, he’d welcome the chase.

  Nerves skitter through me and a nervous hand moves up to my neck to play with a necklace that isn’t there. “I—uh, I think I’ll go wash up.”

  “Don’t think you’re gonna run from me now, Sofie,” he says, bringing me to a halt a few inches away from him.

  He’s leaning casually against the wall at the base of the stairs. His eyes are unreadable, his face carefully blank, but I feel the tension coming off him in waves. He wants answers, I know. He more than deserves them. But that’s not the only thing he wants.

  “I’m not running from anything,” I say, even as I glance for an exit. He pushes off the wall and gets in my space. I ball my fists by my sides because if I don’t they’d already be inching up the firm expanse of chest that fills my vision.

  “You got that wild look in your eyes, baby. You’re either gonna run or you’re gonna find something to get pissed about and start yelling at me.”

  Frowning, I glance up at his upturned lips. “I don’t yell at you.”

  His teeth flash. “The hell you don’t. The only time I got a word out of you lately is when I push your buttons.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t push my buttons,” I suggest, my tone overly sweet.

  He inches closer, his T-shirt radiating his heat, his chest touching my own. I notice the weirdest things about being so close to him like this. Like how our feet touch and knees brush against each other. Not body parts that I’d normally classify as high up on my list of erogenous zones, but hell if my heart doesn’t start to gallop inside my chest. I take an automatic step back and I bump into the banister. My hands fly out to grip the wood.

  Trapped.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, my throat suddenly dry, all previous bravado gone.

  “You came to me,” he says and I blink up at him.

  “I…what?”

  “When you thought I was hurt, when you needed someone to be there for you. You came to me.”

  “Don’t read into it,” I say, shrinking back against the wood posts. Oh God, I don’t know what I’m going to do if he touches me. I both fear and crave his touch and the warring needs cause my breathing to go uneven.

  He notices the hitch in my chest, damn him, and those unfathomable eyes darken. He moves even closer now and my eyes flutter closed, the sight and feel of him is simply too much for me to process.

  “I thought it was something I did. Something I said that ran you off. That I’d gotten too serious with you. Pushed you too far.”

  I shake my head, aching for everything I ever did to hurt him. “It was never you.”

  A hand cups my cheek and he waits until I open my eyes. “It was always you,” he says, before he touches his lips to mine.

  It lasts the barest of seconds, but it’s enough for his groan to weaken my knees and his tongue to slip into my mouth with unerring accuracy. His taste floods my system, intoxicating me, throwing me back to every other kiss we shared just like this. His careful touches and plundering licks undue me, steal my senses.

  He ends the kiss first, pulling away with both hands on my shoulders. When I manage to force my eyelids to cooperate, I blink rapidly to clear the haze from my vision. Two smirking teenage boys fill my vision. I panic, throwing my hands up to push Jack away, but he doesn’t budge.

  “Jack,” I hiss, shoving at him.

  “Sofie,” he says back. Then he looks at the two of them. “Need something?”

  I look at him, eyes wide. Is he crazy? How can he be so calm?

  They share a smile, then Rafe says, “We ran out of toothpaste.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I point to my bathroom
. They both back away with a couple elbows to each other’s ribs and smiles stretched a mile wide. I manage to keep my reaction under control until they make their way back upstairs.

  “You can’t do stuff like that!”

  “Do what?” he says, eyes smiling. My gaze drops down to his lips and I suck in a breath when I notice they’re still red from our kiss.

  I tear my eyes away. “You know what.”

  “Watch me,” he says, then leaves me staring after him. He double checks the locks on the doors and grabs a few things the boys missed on their way through, then throws them in the trash. When he comes back to the stairs, I’m still standing there with what I’m sure is a dumb look on my face.

  “You okay?” He wraps one strong hand around my wrist and pulls me free from my stupor.

  Shaking myself, I nod and ease my wrist from his grip. “Perfectly fine.”

  “You looked stunned for a minute there,” he says, looking way too pleased with himself.

  I open my mouth to respond but find I’m at a loss for words. With a frustrated growl, I stalk by him to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. Prowling around the room, my heart still racing, I can’t quite seem to wrap my head around what happened.

  Then I realize he’s probably not going to let a door stop this conversation we’re supposed to be having, so I gather up some clothes, I don’t even see them as my shaking hands pick them out of the drawers, and lock myself in the bathroom.

  I strip, tossing my clothes in the general direction of the hamper and getting under the hot spray, hoping it will help clear my mind. The best thing to do right now is to go out there and explain to him we can’t go down this road again. He has to know that. How can he even want me after I left him? Especially not after what I told him.

  It was just the circumstance, I decide. The emotional rollercoaster of the past few days caught up with him and he got carried away in the moment. Even I have to admit it’s hard not to fall in old patterns, being back here in my childhood room when things were so much easier and happier.