First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5

by Nicole Blanchard

  Instead of answering, Colson offers his own question. “What were you doing in Jacksonville?”

  Lance’s back stiffens and he glances around the room warily. “What is this about?”

  “Were you trying to find your ex-girlfriend?”

  Lance grits his teeth. “Look. I did my time. All I wanted to do was start over. My Dad’s family is from the area. They were helping me to find a job, a place to live. It’s not easy being an ex-con, you know. Ask them! I just moved in with my uncle and his wife. Ask them if you don’t believe me.”

  “Then why did you run when the officers approached you?”

  Lance snorts. “I know you probably don’t understand what I’m about to say, but I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t do anything wrong then, I didn’t now, whatever it is you’re trying to accuse me of. I haven’t hurt anyone.” Pit stains bloom underneath Lance’s arms. More than anything I want to bust open the door and haul the guy up. A couple right hooks to his perfect jaw should loosen whatever truth he’s got left in his brain. “It’s about the woman that was murdered here, right? The one in the paper. The one they linked to Miami. To Paige and Piper. I’ll tell you now what I told them that night. I didn’t kill anyone. If that’s all you have to ask me, we’re done here. I’d like a lawyer.”

  A phone rings next to the door of the interrogation room. Colson picks up the line as he walks out and then he turns to face me. I don’t have to listen to his next statement to know deep down in my bones that I just fucked up.

  “His alibi checks out. We got the wrong guy.”

  Piper

  I let Rocky back inside at the same time as the front screen door opens with its customary screeeech. I remind myself to have Logan grease it up the next time he has a chance and pick up the vase of flowers that Diane is coming to pick up.

  I open the front door with a smile on my lips. “You’re early! I was just about to head—”

  “Hello, Piper.”

  I don’t recognize him at first and then he takes a step toward me with a scarred hand lifted and the memory clicks into place with an awful clarity.

  “Joseph?”

  My whole body turns to ice. I don’t even notice the glass I step over as I take automatic steps in retreat.

  “Been a long time,” he says as he closes the front door behind him. The eerie smile on his face causes me to shiver, and I can’t believe I never pieced the two together. I thought I’d never be able to recognize his voice, but I do.

  I manage to regain my own. “What are you doing here?” The question is a stupid one, because I piece together the reason for his presence the second he stepped through the doorway. My mouth hasn’t quite caught up with my brain.

  “Why don’t we go to the living room to talk?” he says.

  I wish he’d stop smiling. The uptick of his lips makes me want to throw up all over his feet. This was a man I’d considered to be a friend. All this time, I thought Gavin had been the person who killed Paige.

  Oh my God.

  “You . . .” I have to suck in a deep breath to combat the swift, potent rage that crashes over me like waves of molten lava. “You killed Paige.”

  He gestures to the living room. “It only took you years to piece it together.”

  “You shouldn’t have come back here.”

  He cocks his head and sits on the corner of a chair. “And why is that?”

  “Because I’m going to kill you.”

  Eyes twinkling, his eerie smile widens. “Trust me, I doubt you have it in you.”

  Rocky ambles into the room, but his tail isn’t wagging. He can sense the tension thick in the air. Joseph turns his attention to him and I whistle. Rocky comes to lay at my feet, but he keeps a keen eye on Joseph.

  “I seriously doubt you know anything about me.”

  “Sure I do.” He gets to his feet and prowls around the room, picking up pictures of me and Chloe, knickknacks I’d gathered from traveling around the U.S. and books I’d meant to read, but haven’t yet had the time to. He studies each one calmly, like he has all the time in the world. “I’ve been watching you for a while, you know.”

  “I’ve figured that out,” I say through my teeth with forced calm. “We found your little hide out. Your trophies. Did it make you feel powerful to hurt those women?”

  He puts down the photo of Chloe and then turns to me. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a sick bastard. What are you waiting for? Why don’t you get it over with?”

  “Now Piper, we’ve waited years for this and we’ve got all the time in the world. I’m not going to rush it.”

  “If you think I’m going to sit here and let you finish what you started, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  Rocky starts growling and I place a hand on his neck. I wouldn’t tempt Joseph to harm him, too.

  “Why?” I ask, my voice betraying my amped emotional state with a tremor.

  Joseph clucks his teeth. “Really? We’re going to devolve into psychology? Is this where you want to know if I hated my mother or if I was abused by my father?”

  “Were you?” Part of me wants to know. I need an explanation for the evil that tore my world apart.

  “Would it matter? I do it because I like it. Because there’s nothing like watching a person die by your own two hands. It’s powerful.”

  Anger causes me to lose control over my tongue. “So that’s why you’ve followed me this long. Did I take your power away? Did that make you feel like less of a man?” I laugh, but it’s watery because at some point tears started streaking down my cheeks. “I’m the one who got away.” My laughter takes a turn toward hysterical and Rocky gets to his feet to lick my hands.

  When my vision clears, the expression on Joseph’s face wipes away all traces of humor and my body comes to life with the presence of danger. My throat runs dry and I have a fleeting thought that his face is the last thing Paige saw. This face.

  My body reads his movements, the shift of his weight to the balls of his feet, the poise of his arms by his side, so I tense to flee. When he hurls himself across the room in my direction I shoot to my feet. He’s inches away from me with hands outspread and I spin, dodging to my left and sending him crashing into the couch.

  I sprint for the hallway, Rocky right by my side barking like a hellhound. Joseph’s footsteps thunder behind me and I make it to the kitchen. He’s mere feet away. I won’t have time to fling the lock open and get the door wide enough to go through so I make a split second decision and spin to my right at the last second and dive through the open door to my room. If I can just get to my nightstand, I’ll be able to get my gun to defend myself.

  Just as I reach the bed his hand snares in my shirt and he jerks me backward against his chest. This time, I don’t go quietly. Before he can get his arms around me, my elbow goes up and connects with the corner of his eye. He cries out in pain and I use the distraction to tumble over my bed so that it’s between us.

  My fingers fumble with the pull on the drawer, but I manage to get it open with a sound of triumph. I jerk the gun out, but my arms connect with his torso as he tackles me to the ground. We land with a thud and his weight knocks the breath straight from my lungs. The gun skids across the ground and over to the wall.

  Straining to breathe, I push at his chest and try to wedge my knees up between us. He manages to straddle my waist and wrap his hands around my throat. My already oxygen deprived brain screams in protest as he applies pressure. Black spots dance in front of my vision.

  It’d be so easy, so easy to give in to him, to join Paige, but Logan’s face flashes in front of my eyes and I fling my arms wide, my fingers scrabbling at the gun only mere inches away. Garbled sounds come from my throat and the ringing in my ears tells me if I don’t get him off me, and soon, it won’t matter how much will I have left to fight.

  Then, a shadow launches itself off the bed and right onto Joseph’s back. With a godawful yell, he releases the hold he has on my neck and tips
to the side, catapulting a growling Rocky against the wall. He collapses on the floor in a silent heap.

  While Joseph’s momentarily distracted by Rocky’s lifeless form, I scoot back on my butt to the wall and get my gun. I flick off the safety and point it at him. When Joseph looks back surprise causes his eyes to widen fractionally. He tilts his head and studies me like I’m an insect he doesn’t quite understand.

  He takes a step forward and I scream. “Don’t come any closer!”

  “You don’t have the stomach for killing,” he says with a sneer and he takes a step toward me.

  I try to slow my breathing, focus. It’s hard to do when everything inside of me is screaming, but I have no other choice.

  The next step he takes is his last. I squeeze the trigger and a bloom of red spreads on his shirt. He looks down at it, confused, and then back up at me, in awe. He takes another step and I shoot again, this time I wing his cheek and his eyes grow hard. With a last burst of energy, he crosses the room on unsteady feet and I squeeze off one more shot.

  This time I don’t miss.

  He stops, sways for a few pregnant pauses, and then crumples to the ground at my feet.

  I drop the gun as convulsions overtake me.

  An indiscernible amount of time passes and I hear Logan shouting my name. He bursts through the living room door and I hear his footsteps pound down the hallway. Outside, the distant wail of sirens grows closer.

  Logan appears around the corner and comes up short in my bedroom doorway, surveying the wreckage of my attack. When his eyes get to me, he’s pale beneath his tan.

  I try to get to my feet, but the shaking is so bad, I stumble twice before he gets to my side and helps me upright.

  “Rocky?” I manage to ask.

  Logan shifts me to the bed and kneels by Rocky’s prone body. He crouches down and when he gets back up, Rocky springs to his feet and comes immediately to my side.

  I bury myself in his fur. “Good boy,” I tell him. “You’re such a good, good boy.”

  “Police!” I hear from the front door. “Is anyone here?”

  “We’re back here! One officer. I’m armed. The suspect has been subdued.”

  More footsteps thunder and Logan urges me to the bedroom door and around the responding officers. He shields me from the already arriving media—include Phil Exeter—and places me in his truck. Rocky jumps up behind me, tail wagging, the trauma already forgotten.

  Logan pauses by the door long enough to lay his head on my lap. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

  His warmth washes away the chill and my fingers lift to his neck, then slide to his shoulders. “I’m okay.”

  He shakes his head against my legs. “I never should have left you.”

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “I could have lost you.”

  I tip his face up to me and lean down to kiss him, my blood sparking back to life at just one touch. “But you didn’t. I’m still here.”

  He kisses me back, this time more deeply. When he finally releases me, he says, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

  “I’m okay with that.” I lean into his arms as he wraps them around my waist.

  “You’re moving in with me tomorrow.”

  I brush my hands over his closely cropped hair. “Gonna be pretty cramped.”

  “Then I’ll build you a bigger house.”

  “No, I don’t think that’ll work for me.”

  He glares up at me. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

  I kiss him again. “I’d much rather we get married first.”

  The hard mask of pain and fear disappears and a big smile breaks through. “I can live with that.”

  Yeah. I take another mind numbing kiss. I can live with that.

  Two Years Later

  Logan

  “Breathe, just breathe,” Ben says. His face is annoying the shit out of me, so I punch him in the jaw, and he sprawls backward on the floor.

  Jack throws an arm around Sofie and grins at me. “He’s taking it worse than I did.”

  Sofie shakes her head and elbows him in the ribs, causing him to grimace. “You nearly passed out when they told me it was time.”

  “No,” Donnie pipes up from the other side of the room. “That was Rafe. Jack just turned really white and pretended he had to go to the bathroom.”

  Rafe ambles in with a cup of coffee in one hand. “Let’s just say it ensured I’d practice safe sex for the rest of my college career.”

  Sofie scowls at her two younger brothers. “You’re all useless,” she says.

  “Jesus Christ.” Ben groans as he gets back to his feet. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”

  “He should have hit you harder,” Livvie says.

  I slump on a chair and put my head between my knees. “I’m sorry, man. I’m just a little out of it.”

  Someone claps a hand on my shoulder. I can’t be bothered to look up because I’m focusing my energy into not throwing up all over their feet.

  “You’d think a cop and a Marine would be used to emergency situations,” Jack says.

  Sofie snorts. “We’ve already established you were no better.”

  “Yeah,” Jack says, “but it’s so much more fun when it’s not happening to me.”

  The patterns on the floor are starting to give me a headache so I just shut my eyes. “I hate all of you.”

  “Poor guy,” Livvie says. “I always said having kids was worse on the men than the women. And we’re the ones who do all the hard work!”

  “Why did they send you out of there, anyway?” Ben plops down on the chair next to me.

  “Piper told me to go before I punched the doctor.”

  “So you punched me instead?”

  “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

  “Shouldn’t be long now,” Livvie says.

  I groan into my hands, then stand, and hope the room doesn’t decide to turn on its head. “I’d better get back.”

  “Don’t worry,” Sofie says from behind me. “You’re going to do great!”

  I don’t have as much faith, but I shoulder through the door to the hospital room anyway. Much as I’d rather turn and high-tail in the other direction, I can’t leave Piper. She’s probably terrified.

  Instead of finding her wild-eyed and screaming at the nurses, I find her laughing and chatting with them. I rush to her side and take one of her hands in mine. She looks up at me and smiles. “There you are.”

  “How are you doing? Is everything okay?” I look to the nurse who’s standing at the end of the bed, but she just smiles at me.

  “Well, things are going good—” she breaks off, and her face crumples. She takes my hand and draws in a deep breath through her nose.

  The contraction lasts a hell of a long time, but I focus on brushing her hair back from her face and stroking her arm until it passes. When it does, she blinks up at me. “Hey,” she says.

  I kiss her brow. “Hey.”

  “So, I have some news.”

  “News.”

  “Yeah. Well remember how you didn’t want to know the baby’s sex?”

  Frowning, I straighten. “Yes?” The word is drawn out. “Where are you going with this?”

  “Well, since you wouldn’t let me tell you, I couldn’t tell you—”

  I put my hand over her mouth. “Don’t you dare. I don’t care what we’re having so long as he or she is healthy.”

  “But—”

  I don’t have time to cut her off because another contraction hits, and she grits her teeth.

  “Shh, it’ll be okay,” I say. Then I find myself echoing Ben’s advice. “Breathe, just breathe.”

  When it passes, she’s panting. “They’re coming closer together,” she says.

  “Almost there.” The nurse stands and slips her glove off. “You’re right at ten centimeters.”

  “I’m trying to tell you—”

  “No
,” I say and kiss her. “It doesn’t matter. I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here in this room. I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Oh, it’s definitely going to be a surprise,” the nurse murmurs, giving us a small smile as she slips from the room.

  “You’re so frustrating,” Piper says.

  “But you love me.”

  She leans up to kiss me. “I do.”

  “So let’s have a baby,” I say.

  An eternity later, pandemonium erupts inside the little hospital room as Piper does the impossible and brings our child into this world. I used to be convinced nothing would ever be more beautiful than she was when she walked down the aisle the day we were married, but I was wrong. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is the moment they place the squirmy, squalling, red-faced baby onto her stomach with her looking down, tears streaming down her face.

  I put my hand on the baby’s back and lean down to kiss Piper’s forehead. She’s a wreck, her hair is sticking in a million different directions, and she’s sweated off all the makeup she’d applied before she went into labor. She’s absolutely stunning. My angel.

  There’s a flurry of activity, and then the baby is whisked away to be wiped down, measured, weighed, and then wrapped up. I describe all of the actions in Piper’s ear as I watch from my place by her side. Finally, they call me over, and I take a sleepy bundle in my arms.

  “It’s a boy,” one of the nurses tells me.

  I look down at the new life in my arms in awe. “A boy,” I whisper, and then I look at Piper. “We have a son.” Her face is brilliant with a huge smile, but then pain flashes in her eyes. “Baby?”

  “Here we go,” the nurse says as she rushes by me.

  “Baby? Are you okay?” With the sleeping boy cradled in my arms, I crouch by her side.

  “Yes,” she says through panted breaths. “His brother is just impatient.”

  I stare at her, unable to comprehend simple English. Finally, my brain catches up with her words. “Brother?”

  “I tried”—pause—“to tell you”—pause—“but you didn’t”—pause—“want to know.”