Savior (First to Fight Book 4)

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Savior (First to Fight Book 4) Page 3

by Nicole Blanchard


  It’s like whomever attacked her is a ghost.

  * * *

  “How are you holding up?”

  Joseph pulls me into the dark recesses of a near empty coffee shop and guides me to a table in a corner. I let him because I don’t have any energy to protest.

  “I’m exhausted.” I don’t go into more detail, but I am running on three hours of sleep. Paige was a wreck after we got back from the police station, and I spent the whole night sitting next to her and making sure that she was okay.

  “You wait here.” Joseph plants me in a seat. “I’ll go get us a coffee and something to eat.”

  “I’m not very hungry.”

  He just smiles. “You look like you’re about to pass out. I’ll get you a panini to go with the coffee.”

  Overcome with gratitude, I smile. “Thanks.”

  I shed my purse and hang it on the back of my chair. My eyes feel like they’re made of paper, and I could use about a ten-year nap, but when Paige woke up and I tried to lie down, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time I close my eyes, I would end up replaying the last time I saw Carly.

  The sad thing, one of many, is that I can’t remember what we talked about or if she knew how much I cared about her. Tears fill my eyes, and I blink them away before Joseph comes back. Inhaling slow and steady, I try to focus on something else, anything else, to distract me. When Paige is able to make it through the day without bursting into tears, I’ll allow myself the reprieve of dealing with my own emotions, but until then, she needs me to be the strong one.

  When I look up again, I find the doorway full of students coming in from classes, their eyes all on me—each expression full of pity, sadness, and uneasiness.

  Disgusted and unable to watch them while they watch me, I keep my eyes on the table until Joseph returns.

  “Sorry. They took forever.” He sets two plates with steaming sandwiches and two paper cups full of coffee on the table. He pushes mine in my direction.

  “No, that’s okay. Thank you.” I sip the coffee but barely taste it. “I hope you don’t mind if I’m not too chatty today.”

  He waves my concerns away. “I’d be more worried if you were. I just wanted to make sure you were okay after what happened with Carly and then that shit between you and Gavin the other day.”

  For a second, I don’t remember what he’s talking about. Then it’s all there again.

  At my crestfallen look, he winces. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to bring it up—”

  I take another sip of my coffee before I respond. “I completely forgot. Shit, what a couple of days.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like hell. You need to take care of yourself.”

  “I haven’t been getting much sleep,” I admit, sliding the sandwich he got me closer and picking up half. “It’s been hard on Paige.”

  “Do the police have any updates?”

  “Not many. They aren’t even sure if it’s related to the disappearance of the other girl.” I say, forcing myself to take a bite. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything.

  “They’ll come up with something soon. They’ll find the guy.”

  “I hope so.”

  We both eat and chat some more, the topic turning from Carly to other, easier, subjects. He tells me a funny story about work that I manage to laugh at, and I tell him about what happened with Gavin.

  Joseph frowns. “What a dick!”

  I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “Tell me about it.”

  “I hope you don’t think what he did is a reflection of you.”

  “Right now, Gavin is the least of my worries.”

  Piper

  The ripple of awareness slithers across my skin, and I shiver at its unwelcome caress. I steel myself with a sip of God-only-knows what cheap brand of beer they have on tap. It leaves a bitter taste on my tongue . . . or maybe that’s just regret. Regret for coming out tonight. Regret for the sudden and absolute mess I’ve made of my life. Regret that, in spite of it all, I can’t seem to muster up the energy to care enough to claw my way out.

  The shadows shift to my right, and when I glance over, my ex-boyfriend Gavin rests his elbows on the deck railing next to me. I drown the resulting spark of attraction that ignites with another long gulp from my plastic cup.

  Gavin. Another regret.

  I shouldn’t have come out tonight, but I needed the change of scenery so desperately. In the three weeks since Carly’s murder, I haven’t been able to focus. The fear on campus has abated. Maybe it was just a coincidence. The prevailing opinion seems to be that she was killed by a drifter. Someone passing through. Since the body of the senior was never recovered, they don’t think it was the same person and everyone has returned to normal.

  Everyone except Paige and I, who are reminded every day that evil touched our lives when we pass her still-empty room.

  In the weeks since Carly’s death, my grades have plummeted and my parents are putting more and more pressure on me to find a job to support myself. No more volunteering, they said. It’s time for real work. Because my father’s voice rings all too true over the sound of the pulsing music, I turn to Gavin and look up into his familiar face.

  The pain from his betrayal is muted with the warmth of the alcohol in my belly and the sharp ache of Carly’s loss. His actions seem so very trivial in comparison.

  “I’m surprised to see you here.” His voice is smooth and low enough that I automatically want to lean closer to hear, to bathe in the comfort his closeness has always given me.

  For my own safety, I put a few more inches of necessary breathing room in between us while I still have the mental capacity to remember how much he hurt me.

  “C’mon, Piper. Don’t be like that.”

  My faux-casual posture belies the racing of my heart. “And how would you rather I be?”

  “Pretty much any way but this.”

  I bark out an incredulous laugh, which feels just as hollow as the rest of me, and turn away from him. “Right.”

  There is a beat of silence, and then his front presses against my back, his heat warms my chilled skin, and his hands cage me between his body and the railing. The scruff of beard abrades my neck, and I shiver in response.

  I’m disgusted with my own reaction, but at the same time, I’m grateful for the sense of control I finally feel. I can control what happens next. With the rest of my life spiraling, at least I have this. When he realizes I’m not rejecting his advances, he presses a soft kiss on the line of my neck.

  I shouldn’t want this. I should push him away. He’s the one who hurt me and abused my trust. But even thought I know it’s wrong, I lift a hand to guide his mouth to mine. For the first time in too long, all the stress and pain melts away. I loved this man. I trusted him. I desperately want to bring back that feeling.

  I’m comforted by the familiar taste of him, the way he knows how to nibble and deepen the kiss at just the right moments. I should hate him for what he did, but right now it feels like his kiss is giving me the first moment of sanity I’ve had in way too long.

  “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my lips.

  He shifts us around until we are in a darkened corner of the deck. Behind me, the walls vibrate from the bass and below us, the sidewalk is packed with red-rope hopefuls. Their chatter floats upwards as Gavin lifts my leg to press into me at just the right angle.

  He breaks the kiss and cups my face. “I need to talk to you. Come home with me? Come back to me.”

  I put my hands to his chest, unsure of my answer. It would be so easy to say yes, but I should say no. I’m saved from making a choice when my phone rings.

  I tear away from him and jerk my phone from my pocket. It rings a few more times before my clumsy fingers can navigate the touch screen. “Thank God you called.” I take a few steps away, shame flowing over me like a heatwave. “I was about to do something you’d probably kill me for.”

  “Piper,” my other half, Paige, says, “Ple
ase tell me it doesn’t have to do with that son of a bitch.”

  “It may.” I signal to him that I’m heading inside. “Would you mind coming to the bar on second?”

  He shakes his head and tries to follow, but I dodge his grasp. It’s too loud and there are way too many people, so I head to the hallway leading to the bathrooms.

  “I’m already on my way. Don’t move a muscle. I’ll be there in five.”

  The bathroom is blessedly empty. I pocket my phone and splash my face with water, then rip off a couple paper towels to blot away the moisture. When I step back out, Gavin is there waiting. I glance at him, but keep walking when I see the anger twisted in his features. Is he really that pissed that I wouldn’t just take him back after what I walked in on him doing? I don’t know and I don’t really care. I take a seat at the bar, order another beer, and wait for Paige. Somehow, I always feel steadier when she’s there. The sun to my moon.

  “That one’s for you.” I point to the identical cup and stool next to me when she shows up. “Consider it my peace offering before you read me the riot act.”

  “Smart move. Plying me with alcohol always works.”

  “I—”

  “No.” She covers my mouth with her hand. “You don’t even have to explain. You forget that I live with you. Just shut up and drink. We’re going to forget all about this and chalk it up to a weak moment.”

  “You’re the best.”

  “You know it.”

  “Would it have been so bad?”

  “If you’d slept with him again?”

  “Yes.”

  She takes a contemplative sip of her beer. “This could be me being overprotective, but I think so. You deserve better. You deserve a man that worships you and puts you first. I don’t think he could ever be that kind of person. What can I say? I have impossible standards.”

  “At least you have some.”

  “This is also true.”

  Truth be told, Gavin is the most recent in a long line of self-centered jerks I’ve dated. As much as I hate to admit it, Paige is right.

  We finish our drinks and I convince her to go out on the dance floor with me for a while. It’s not often she can tear herself away from the books for a night out, so I take advantage of the time we have. A part of me knows once college is over, the best friend I’ve had my whole life will be one step closer to living her own. So when she tugs her arm and signals she’s going to go, I force myself not to protest. We have to cut the cord sometime. I mean, it’s not like we can spend our whole lives living together, sharing everything. We’re both going to have to get used to the idea that we’ll be apart for the first time in our lives.

  She nudges my arm. “Don’t worry about it. You order another drink. Dance your ass off for a while. Then you’ll come home, sleep it off, and I’ll wake you up at the ass crack of dawn to do Pilates at the rec center or something.”

  “You aren’t staying?”

  “I can’t. I’ve got a project due tomorrow.” She sends a pained look at the door and I immediately sober somewhat. I should have asked before I dragged her out here. “Are you going to be okay by yourself? You know you can always come hang out with me.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’ll follow your suggestion.” The last thing I want to do is interrupt more of her night. One of us needs to make our parents proud. “Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

  “We will. And please call me when you get home so I know that you made it okay. We should be back around one or two, depending on the movie time.”

  “I will.”

  She stands, and I give her a one-armed hug. “Thanks again, for coming,” I whisper.

  “Anytime,” she says. She gives me a big smile and then is swallowed by the crush of college students.

  An hour later, I’m walking the five blocks from the bar to the apartment complex where Paige and I have lived for the past year. I did follow her instructions, mostly. After she left, I downed two more glasses of beer and a couple of shots, and I managed to grab a dance or two before deciding it was time to call it a night. My heart just wasn’t in it anymore

  The streets are deserted, most students safely inside their builder’s grade houses and tidy worlds. It’s way past midnight, and not even the meager glow from the street lights penetrates the darkness that envelops the porches of our two-story walk-up.

  Paige normally leaves the porch light on because, despite what she says, she's the most maternal, responsible person I know. So, it’s a bit odd that it’s turned off.

  A figure in the space between our house and the next catches my attention. I squint against the darkness, but whoever it is disappears into the shadows. Immediately, I think about Carl. About how alone and vulnerable I am out on the street. Too much beer has my vision hazy, and I struggle to pull my phone from my pocket, just in case. It takes four tries before I’m able to wrestle it out, and by then, my eyes are half closed. God, why didn’t I just go home with Paige, like she suggested?

  The first whispers of unease filter through my boozed brain as I make it to the place where I’d seen the shadow. I glance around again, hoping to find someone out on the street, but there’s no one. Lights flicker in the windows of the neighboring buildings, but the street is otherwise devoid of any sign of life. With my phone poised in my hand like a threat, I inch closer to our dark apartment, my steps now hesitant, and my heart thudding heavily in my chest. I can barely see through the shadows that engulf the alley, but I can feel it in my bones that something isn’t right.

  My thoughts are fevered and grow more so the closer I get to the yawning opening. I peer into the blackness as I pass, but find nothing out of the ordinary.

  “You really need some sleep,” I tell myself. It’s probably just a stray cat or something.

  After a couple deep breaths to clear my head, I clomp up the stairs and manage to get the key out of my pocket much more easily than I did my phone. I’m walking in the doorway, already dreaming about a twelve-hour hibernation, when a hand closes over my mouth and drags me backward. Instinctively, I try to scream, but it doesn't make it past the barrier. An arm clamps around my waist, trapping my arms against my side.

  I fight a full body shiver when the person behind me leans closer. So close that I can feel the scrape of stubble on my neck and smell the sweat and an earthy pine-scented cologne clinging to his skin. “Don’t scream.”

  Piper

  My heart drops to my stomach, and my first thought is of Paige. The last hug we shared at the bar and how the last thing I saw was her head bobbing through the crowd.

  My second is of Carly.

  I struggle to make my brain fight through the exhaustion, the residual effects of too much beer, and sharp tang of fear. He maneuvers me through the front door in seconds and by the time my brain catches up, we’re already heading down the hallway toward Paige’s room. I try to kick my legs to throw him off balance, but he’s too strong. The arm around my waist constricts to the point where I can hardly expand my lungs to breathe. The fingers on my mouth flex, and I can feel the tender flesh bruising. As we near Paige’s room, the dread in my stomach sharpens. By now I’m crying and struggling against his hold even more violently, twisting one way and then the other.

  A strong metallic smell reaches my nose when we get to her partially closed door. Through the opening, I spot thick drops of blood framing a hand on the floor. My entire body goes slack at the sight, and I struggle to catch my breath to no avail.

  He nudges the door with a shoulder, and I clamp my eyes shut. I can’t look, I won’t. Inside my head I’m screaming her name, but I can’t seem to get my voice around the knot in my throat. He drags me into her room, where the scent of blood mixes with musk of sweat and sharp bite terror. I’m sobbing, and my brain is racing wildly to figure out a way to get the fuck out of there. To find help. To rescue Paige, even though a part of me already knows it’s pointless.

  We’re two steps in, and I can feel my chances to escap
e getting smaller and smaller the longer he has me trapped in his arms. He releases the hand on my mouth, and I finally find my voice. I scream as long and as hard as I can. So hard that I feel my throat tear at the force of it. It breaks, and I heave a deep breath to scream again.

  I scream until I can’t scream anymore.

  He whips me around, his face mostly obscured in shadows, and I flinch instinctively when he raises an arm. The room is dark, but the street lights shine through the window, outlining his body. I don’t move fast enough to dodge his hand as brings it down. The back of his knuckles connect with the delicate flesh of my cheek with such force that I’m knocked to my knees and land roughly on my hands. My wrist gives under the pressure and awkward angle, pain streaking up my arm. He jerks me up off the ground, and I slip on the slick residue that coats the floor and tumble into him.

  He’s reaching behind him in the direction of the bed—for what I’m too terrified to even imagine. The pain in my wrist is blinding, and I can feel the bones grinding together as I struggle to break free of his hold.

  A glint of light and a flash of metal render my knees boneless, and I fall like dead weight into his arms. He hefts me across the room and onto her bed, and I can see the bat—a leftover from Paige’s softball days—in his hands more clearly than I’ve ever seen anything in my life. In the light from outside, I can see the dark smears on it’s thickest part. I remember the autopsy report I’d found online about Carly. How she’d been beaten and my insides turn to ice.

  I’m grateful because the light isn’t strong enough to illuminate whatever horror is on the bedroom floor. Thinking about what happened to Paige in unconscionable. Seeing it would break me.

  He props the bat by the bed and studies me, the pause before the pain. I close my eyes, unable to watch what comes next. It takes me a minute to realize I’m talking, begging for him to please, please, please, please stop. No. Nonono. Mindless. Thoughtless. Complete and utter terror.

 

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