Survivor (First to Fight #2) by Nicole Blanchard

Author:Nicole Blanchard [Blanchard, Nicole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: A First to Fight Novel, Book 2
Publisher: Bolero Books, LLC
Published: 2016-04-26T04:00:00+00:00

Present

THE BOYS KNOW I’ve been crying, but they don’t say anything. For the first time since I moved back in with them, they’re silent, almost concerned. They wake up before me and have a pot of coffee ready by the time I come downstairs the morning after Jack left—this time for good, it seems.

I should feel relieved, knowing that he’s safe from whatever sinister fantasies Damian has planned, but all that’s left inside me is hollow. My chest cavity is scraped raw. It hurts to do simple tasks like breathing. Even sipping the cup of oversweet coffee is almost too much for my system. I have to clamp down on the rise of bile in my throat and paste on a wobbly smile for the boys expectant faces.

“Thanks, guys,” I manage, despite my raw throat. “Why don’t we do something today? There’s a new skating ramp at the park?”

“You gonna skate?” Rafe asks, his face hopeful.

It manages to pull a weak laugh from the cavern of my chest. “Sure, you would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’ll teach you,” Donnie says, already jamming his feet into his sneakers.

“I think I’ll need more than one cup of coffee,” I reply wryly.

Even though it’s a cool seventy degrees outside—which is mild weather for a sunny Florida morning, I wrap myself in a thin cardigan. Try as I might, I can’t seem to stop shivering, even with the sun as bright as it is. The boys erupt from the car the second we get to the park, their cheerful shouts buoying my rapidly sinking mood.

Jack’s gym is only a couple blocks away and I sense its presence like a malignant tumor and a beacon. Both a reminder of the darkness there and a siren call to the man I’ve finally successfully kicked and shoved away.

Blowing out a heavy, steady breath I remind myself it’s for the best. Then and now, to protect him. This aching, empty chasm is worth it.

Or so I hope.

I find a perch on the bleachers to watch over Rafe and Donnie as they scale the newly built skate park. Wincing, I try not to come to their aid as they crash into the unforgiving concrete repeatedly. Then I catch myself and I have to laugh, because I’m starting to sound like my mother, even if it’s just in my head.

Wrapping the cardigan more securely around my middle, I turn into the sun, hoping it will warm me from the outside in. I knew coming back to Nassau would stir everything up and I was right. All the feelings, all the memories, all the regrets I’d smothered deep inside of me were coming back, determined to bubble up to the surface like a geyser.

Maybe it’s fate.

Maybe that’s the purpose of secrets. To be discovered.

Like a bomb’s only end is to detonate, leaving everything in its wake torn to pieces, just like secrets. Or lies.

I wonder as I watch the boys navigate the maze of ramps and rails, if the bigger the secret, the bigger the resulting fallout.

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