First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5

by Nicole Blanchard

  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 marrow right out 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 tainted 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 felt strong. Capable. Violent. Coming down here was the right decision. He wasn’t certain at first, but all doubts had melted away.

  He was near the south end of the campus when he came 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 built to a near painful crescendo.

  Maybe he would 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 him told him to chase. It was 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 increased his speed to catch up with her. The resulting rush of endorphins buoyed his mood even higher. He was invincible.

  “Hey,” he called out once he got close 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 was 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.

  “Hey,” 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 other earbud and wrapped the cord around her phone, then put it in the pocket of her hoodie. 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 stopped 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 the left. To the right, the forest edged up to the asphalt—a welcome home present 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 easily had at least fifty pounds on her, 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. 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 leaves, 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 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, 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 weighty rock.

  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 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 and 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 even I don’t think it is normal for Carly to just dip out on exams.

  “Do you think I should try calling her again?” Paige says after a few seconds 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 an exam I have on Friday. 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 the phone in her hands, 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 was kidnapped or something, do you?”

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

  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 liked 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 the searches are a fourth of the size they were at the beginning.

  Most people are convinced she up and ran away, but who does that? I try not to think about how similar the senior girl is to Carly. Carly wouldn’t run away, so there has to be another explanation. One she damn well better have by the time I get to class, or I’ll be just as neurotic as Paige is.

  I brush off both of our fears with a shake of my long ponytail. “You watch. She’ll be calling us after lunch with tales of the dude she picked up.”

  My voice sounds confident, but Paige has known me our whole lives and doesn’t buy it for a second.

  “C’mon,” I say with false cheer, “I’ll pick you up a coffee at the cafe.”

  I’m not a needy person. In fact, I like to believe I’m self-sufficient. But when Carly doesn’t show up for class, I start spinning out of control with worry. I don’t want to freak Paige out before I get back to the apartment, so I swing by the campus bookstore where my boyfriend, Gavin, is working the afternoon shift.

  I step into the frigid air with relief, comforted by the familiar fragrance of the strawberry candles the manager likes mixed with the crisp, clean scent of new books. Scanning the check-out counters for Gavin, I frown when I don’t find him assisting any of the customers. Normally, he prefers to be up front and right in the middle of the chaos, but he’s not there or in the manager’s office where everyone takes their break, which is strange.

  There’s a small café area to my right, so I take a seat on one of the benches to wait and pull out my phone. Carly hasn’t returned any of my or Paige’s messages since Friday, which is odd, considering she keeps her phone glued to her side. I checked in with some of her teachers, and they told me she missed three important classes, which will have a devastating effect on her near perfect GPA. Then as I was leaving each of her classes, I stopped a few other students and asked if they had seen her, not a single one of them had.

  The next rational step is to call her parents and the police. They would take it seriously and investigate or send out more search parties. It has been only a few weeks since the senior went missing, so I know the police wouldn’t drag their feet about another missing girl. I don’t want to cry foul play and look like an insipid college chick, but I’m also worried about my friend.

  A few minutes pass and Gavin still hasn’t shown up, so I push myself from the little table and stride across the room to the checkout counter.

  “Hey, Joseph.”

  He looks up, his eyes brightening when they land on me. “Piper. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Midterms,” I say and make a face.

  He finishes checking out the freshman and hands him his change. He turns his attention to me and says, “Killer. Need help with something?” Flashing a teasing grin, he leans a hip on the counter.

  His brilliant smile brings out my own if only for a moment. “Actually, yes.”

  “Anything.”

  “Have you seen Gavin around? I need to talk to him.”

  His smile falters just a little. “Yeah, I think I saw him go into the storage room. I can call him up here if you want.”

  Already pushing
from the counter, I wave over my shoulder. “That’s okay, I’ll go hunt him down. Good to see you!”

  His response is cut off by another customer.

  I’m well acquainted with the large storage room off the back of the bookstore. On multiple occasions, we’ve made use of the space behind the towering shelves full of supplies with Gavin whispering words dirty enough to make me blush. The thought almost puts a little warmth back into my icy stomach.

  I push through the throngs of students, who are too busy searching for last-minute testing study materials to care, and head to the large gray doors with black rubber trim. I don’t bother looking around to see if the manager is watching or if anyone is going to stop me. I’ve practically become part of the staff and have gotten to know everyone during the long, often dull, summer hours I sat around with Gavin.

  Thinking about him only makes me more eager to find him to allay my worries about Carly, so I shoulder open the door. I skid to an immediate stop, as if I’ve run into an invisible wall.

  My gasp draws their attention, and they break apart with an audible smack. Face is frozen in horror, feet epoxied to the floor, I can’t even summon words to express the sudden bottomless pit my stomach becomes.

  “Piper!” Gavin extricates himself from the arms of another woman and takes a hasty step back. “What are you doing here?”

  “I should go,” the girl says, sliding past where I’m still frozen in the doorway.

  “I can explain, Piper,” he says as he takes a step forward.

  “What? Did you accidentally shove your tongue down someone’s throat?”

  He winces and finally stops moving toward me. I’m thankful for that. I’m not sure what I would have done if he had managed to reach me. “You’ve just been so busy.”

  “Busy.” My voice is flat. Hollow. He thinks I’ve been too busy, and this is what he does? I feel strangely removed from the situation, as if I’m watching it from above or from someone else’s point of view.