Revival

by Kirkpatrick, S.

  Revival

  The Survivor Series

  Revive:

  Verb

  Restore or regain life or consciousness. Give new strength or energy to

  Breathe new life into.

  By S. Kirkpatrick

  Revival

  Copyright © 2019 by S. Kirkpatrick

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under the copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book,

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked and copyrighted status and owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission.

  “She wore her troubled past

  Like scars –

  She had been through battle

  And though no one could see her demons,

  They could see the face that conquered them.”

  -Atticus Poetry-

  Acknowledgments

  I want to say a huge thank you to Shawn, Chelsea, Christina, and Katie. Your devotion and constant support throughout my journey of these books have been more than I could have ever asked for.

  Thank you to Robin, who has been my ever-faithful Beta reader for this second book and other crazy Survivor Series ideas that I’ve dreamt up.

  Thank you all for your never-ending love and encouragement! I hope this book lives up to all of your expectations. You guys are the best and I am forever grateful to have you in my life. I love you all so much!

  Prelude

  BREE

  I walk away from DRAB, fuming like an open grill. Taking my one hour lunch today might not be enough time away from my brother and his condescending words. I can’t believe after all these years he still fucking acts this way. Like I can’t be trusted to make decisions about my own life. Like I’m incapable of not fucking things up for everyone around me. Why can’t he trust me? Why can’t he let me have this one thing? I may be the annoying little sister, but I never ask him for anything. Ever. I can only imagine how hard it was for him to raise me on his own, so I’ve made damn sure to never ask anything from him since my 18th birthday.

  Sometimes having an older brother that doubled as your parent growing up can be a real pain in the ass. Here I am, 24 years old, a grown-ass woman, and he’s still trying to parent me. Does he seriously think he can tell me who I can and can’t date? Who the hell does he think he is? Trying to run my life like he has the final say. Well newsflash, he doesn’t!

  Ugh, men can be real assholes sometimes.

  Abel’s inability to let me make my own life choices hasn’t ever bothered me as much as does at this moment. Even from LA, when we would talk, he tried to tell me what was best for me. I let it go for a long time, knowing he was just trying his best to protect me, but I draw the line here. Why is Dex good enough to be his best friend, but not good enough to be my boyfriend?

  It’s not that Dex isn’t good enough for you. You’re not good enough for Dex.

  The thought punches me in the gut with an unwanted force of truth. I’ll never be good enough for Dex. Years of watching him with perfect women have solidified that for me. Tall, lanky, busty blondes have always been his preference. They’ve all looked like Barbie dolls or models, the envy of girls like me growing up. I’m a little bit taller than average with dark brown hair and weird fucking eyes that look like a cartoon character. There’s nothing special or fascinating about me except for my poor fucking attitude, which happens to be a direct result of being raised by a kid who was only a few years older than me. Don’t get me wrong, Abel is an amazing big brother. I just need him to remember that he’s not my father. No matter how much he had to act like one when we were younger.

  There are so many reasons I never told a soul before now that I was in love with Dex. The obvious of which being that he never let on that he was remotely interested in me, and I’ve never been one to handle rejection well. That’s why I avoid situations as much as possible where that could be a potential outcome. Hell, my own parents rejected me. My father stuck around until I was born and then hightailed it out of there before I was even home from the hospital. He was content with my mother and Abel, but then I showed up and ruined it all, fucking up everyone’s lives with the first breath I took. You don’t really bounce back from something like that.

  I learned quickly in life that I wasn’t worth sticking around for. That’s why I’ve never let anyone get too close. I knew, just like with my own damn parents, they’d leave. Everyone always does. Hell, once I was grown and no longer legally needed Abel, he took off shortly after too. Yeah, he came back… But he didn’t come back for me. This has turned me into a certified flight risk. I stick around for the butterflies in the beginning and leave before they do, never allowing anyone to break my heart.

  That would be the main reason I never said anything about Dex. I accepted what I couldn’t have, never allowed myself to hold on to that false hope of becoming his. Because on the off chance that I got him; when I lost him, and there’s no doubt that I would, it would annihilate me. Dex has been more to me than the guy I’ve been in love with over half my life. He’s been one of my best friends and the only person to never judge me. Abel doesn’t know how many times Dex has been there for me. How many times I called him instead of my brother. How many times he just showed up to help me, without me even saying a word.

  I pull into the tiny café, putting my Chevy Cruze in park, and blowing out a harsh breath. Calum Scott’s voice comes through my speakers, the one song that sums up my life right now so perfectly. Max has a theory about a universal playlist and I’ve never given it much thought until this very moment. The accuracy of these lyrics is borderline creepy.

  I grip the steering wheel tight in my hands, my eyes watering as the lyrics sound throughout my tiny car. There’s a slideshow of memories unraveling in my mind, choking me with how fiercely they affect me.

  Dex… It’s always been Dex.

  ‘Why would I need their permission? Skin and bones, I’m only human. It’s in my DNA, suffocating just to fit in. Why do I care what people say? ‘Cause I’m nobody’s but yours. If it’s me, and if it’s you, and if our love is wrong, then I don’t ever wanna be right. I don’t ever wanna be right. If it’s real, and if it’s true, and if our love is wrong, then I don’t ever wanna be right. I don’t ever wanna be right. Oh, oh, yeah, yeah, I just want you to be mine.’

  That’s all I’ve ever wanted... For Dex to be mine. For me to be his. I’ve never once thought it could actually happen and now that it’s a possibility, I’ve been fighting off my flight risk tendencies. It’s been like this since we fell asleep together a couple of weeks ago, the overwhelming need to protect my heart at all costs.

  I knew I couldn’t say anything to Abel unless I was sure that I was really going to let myself believe in this happening. Dex was supportive of giving me that time to ensure I could trust him with my heart. He’s seen me flee too many times over the years. He knows me too damn well.

  Once I decided that I could do this, that I could trust him with my heart, I told him I was all in and that I needed to be the one to tell Abel. I figured Abel would respect it coming from me more than Dex.

  I was wrong apparently.

  I expected him to be more supportive, expected him to be happy for me. He’s been on
my ass for years about picking a good guy and actually giving him a fair shot instead of running away.

  Remembering Calum’s lyrics, I think to myself.

  If I can conquer being a flight risk, I can conquer my brother, right?

  Yes! Yes, you can!

  You deserve this!

  I smile to myself, determined to let myself be loved for the first time in my life, regardless of what anyone else has to say about this. I needed Abel to know, and now he does. I don’t need his blessing.

  I wipe the tears from my face, turn off the engine, and step out of my car, ready to get lunch and head back to the shop. I’m ready to start my life with Dex and my brother can fuck right off if he doesn’t approve. Nothing is going to stop me.

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” I hear a British voice say behind me.

  I turn towards the voice, still smiling.

  “Yeah?” I ask, the smile slipping from my face. I take in the man in front of me. He’s taller than me, but not as tall as Dex and Abel. He has deep purple bags under his eyes.

  I immediately feel the hair on the back of my neck stand up, wishing I would have never left the shop without one of the guys.

  Stupid, stubborn Bree, always letting your anger get the best of you.

  “Are you Breelle Cooper?” He asks, taking a step toward me.

  I take one step back and feel my car against my back, caging me in.

  “Um, everyone calls me Bree. Who are you?” I ask, glancing around, growing warier when I see there’s no one around to help me.

  “I’m a friend of Maxine’s.” He says smiling.

  Before I can even respond, he lunges and stabs something sharp in my neck. My vision swims and my knees buckle as he scoops me up and carries me away.

  I know without having to ask who it is. Max told us all her story. She told us he insisted on calling her by her full first name no matter how many times she told him she didn’t like it. I don’t know why he’s coming after me, but I know one thing’s for sure.

  I can kiss my future with Dex goodbye.

  I have a feeling I won’t survive whatever Rob has in store for me.

  Part One

  Chapter One

  MAX

  Do you have any idea what it’s like knowing that you’re responsible for someone getting kidnapped? To know that if you’d never entered their life that they’d be safe and in no danger? Everyone’s lives have been altered and shifted now, due to this. So many people have been affected. And for what? For my psycho ex-boyfriend to get his rocks off playing these sick and twisted games.

  Abel is going out of his mind, frantic, and feeling completely helpless. His sister is the only true family he has left. And because of me, she’s been taken by Rob. I can sadly envision everything he could be doing to her right now. I suffered at his hands for almost two years, and recovering from that time took even longer. Dex, Abel’s best friend, had just admitted to having feelings for Bree after so many years of hiding them, and she got taken on the same day. I’d never seen Dex cry before that day. Watching his normally goofy, happy, and downright ornery ass humor die was one of the hardest things to see happen as a result of Bree’s abduction. It was a punch in the gut that hit me harder Rob’s fists ever did.

  I rub the thick, jagged scar on my hip, my daily reminder of the hell I survived at the hands of a madman. My eyes begin to burn with the tears that are welling up. I nearly died that night.

  Maybe I should have.

  None of this would be happening now if Rob had gotten his way and I died on the side of that road. I’ve been forced to be strong for so long, I made myself fight to live that night. I held on until the ambulance came. I fought through the surgeries, the recoveries, the therapies, learning to walk again… I fought so goddamned hard. And Abel… The man I love so deeply that it scares me half to death. I fought to be with him, to let him in, to let myself feel again. I fought to allow myself to love him with all of my being. My strength may very well be my biggest weakness.

  How about that for a catch 22?

  I’ve fought so hard my entire life to be this strong, independent woman. And now Rob’s back, using my strength against me. He knows I’ll fight for Bree’s safety, hell I bet he’s counting on it. He’s counting on the fact that I can’t just sit by and twiddle my thumbs while he does to her what he did to me. That’s how he was able to keep me for so long the first time. He threatened to kill me if I ever left him and when I finally tried, he beat me so bad I was bedridden for a week. After that, he threatened to kill my best friend, Kat. I didn’t try to leave for a long time after that.

  After Rob realized I was willing to stay in his hell to protect my best friend, he got sloppy with his handy work. He no longer tried to be vigilant in keeping the bruises out of sight from everyone else. In fact, I think he really enjoyed that he could let his inner monster loose. I’m not proud of the fact that I didn’t even realize what kind of relationship I was in before it was too late. To be honest, abuse was all I ever knew growing up. It made sense to me that it happened in other relationships too. Kat is the one that helped me realize it wasn’t normal and helped me get out.

  I remember when one of my favorite bands, The Glorious Sons, released their latest album. I was so excited to go get it, and I listened to every song with rapt attention, soaking in every sound, every word, and every emotion flowing through my body. It was amazing such a good album, their best in my option. But the very last song… The chorus literally dropped me to my knees. I was clutching my chest, crying so hard I couldn’t catch my breath, as the lyrics sliced through my ears. As crazy as it sounds, I felt like they wrote that chorus just for me like they knew my pain was so intense and overwhelming that the only way to get people to understand was to write it in a song and pair it with music so that your body could feel the pain I went through. It was soul-shaking, heart-wrenching, and cleansing

  ’Cause all those dirty things made me think that love, was a lot like hate. And all them fiery nights, just could not make up for the firefights. Ooo, Ooo, Ooo, thank you for saying goodbye.”

  I had no idea that what Rob was putting me through wasn’t love, wasn’t normal… I just accepted that violence was a part of life. But once I found out, no matter how many times he tried to wash the bad away with little bits of good here and there, it wasn’t enough. Kat is the reason I got into Krav Maga, and she helped me hide it all from Rob the whole time. When the time finally came where I could use it, I escaped him long enough to jump on a motorcycle and haul ass to get away from him. Hell, coming close to dying on the side of the road was nothing compared to what he would have done himself if I didn’t have the training to get away.

  Since my accident, every day that I’m alive, every time I draw in a breath, I send thanks to the universe for sending me Kat. While I was trying to save her life, she saved mine. This is the first time I’ve ever wondered if it was all a mistake.

  “No Shane, it fucking won’t okay? Not until we find her. Do you understand? Nothing will be okay until she’s home.” Abel screams at our attorney, breaking me from my inner thoughts.

  Good thing they’re friends and Shane won’t take this personally.

  Abel’s been like this all morning, screaming at people on the phone who either have no good news or no news at all. I feel bad for the people on the other end of the line. Mad Abel is scary as hell. I’ve seen him agitated before, I’ve seen him and Bree verbally spar, but this… This side of Abel is enough to make someone want to pee down their leg. He’s built like a goddamn mountain so they’re lucky he’s yelling at them over the phone and not in person.

  Abel would never dream of hurting a fly, let alone me. I would never think that of him in a million years, no matter how mad he is. After Rob, I just don’t enjoy being around people who are excessively angry. I can’t handle it. It gives me anxiety and makes me emotionally unstable. Pregnancy is already making me a blubbering mess, I don’t need any additional h
elp in that area.

  I walk out of the den and make my way to the kitchen to find something to bake. My anxiety is off the charts right now and I have no other way to expel it. I always bake when I’m stressed, but when I’m feeling this overwhelmed and tensed up I normally call Phil, my trainer. However, apparently, Krav Maga training while pregnant, with twins no less, is highly frowned upon.

  I settle on making muffins today, a healthier and less exciting version of a cupcake, as Ryan calls them. I put on some music to help me focus on the task at hand, hoping to alleviate some of the stress brewing in the house. I know it won’t change what’s happened, or make it better… But it calms me down so that’s gotta count for something right? ‘Rise Above This’ by Seether pours through the tiny speakers in the kitchen, and I’m able to focus on the task at hand.

  I have the pans prepped with cupcake liners, oven preheated, everything mixed, and am pouring the batter for my second batch when Brody walks in.

  “What’cha got going on in here Mama Max?”

  I giggle at that. It’s still so surreal that I’m pregnant. And I appreciate Brody stepping into Dex’s role by trying to bring some light to the darkness we’re plagued with.

  “Muffins today.”

  “You just want us all to get as big as you huh? Prep work for the days to come?” He asks.

  “There are knives in this room Brody. Lots of them. Watch yourself.”

  “Yeah, it sounded better in my head.”

  “Being a DRAB guy, before you say anything you should ask yourself ‘Is this something Ryan would say?’ If the answer is a yes, don’t say it.”

  “You’re already starting to sound like an actual Mom. It’s creepy.”

  I roll my eyes. Although now that I think about it, these guys need someone to wrangle them in from all their crazy antics so being a mom figure might not be the worst thing.