Survivor (First to Fight #2)(38)

“Look—” Jack begins.

“No. Sofie’s been real nice to us and we want her to stay. If you keep yelling at her, you’re going to make her go away again.” His little chest is heaving at the end of his tirade. Jack and I share a glance.

“He didn’t make me upset. It’s a long story, one I’ll explain. Later.” I cut off my explanation when Jack puts a hand on my arm.

“Look,” he says again to Donnie, “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. It was out of line and I didn’t mean it.”

Donnie’s lip quivers. “You always told us that real men were nice to women. What you said to her wasn’t very nice.”

“I know. I was angry and I said some things I shouldn’t have. I can’t apologize enough for that, but I’d like to have the opportunity to make it up to you.” He directs the next part to me. “To all of you.”

I nod at him, then say to Donnie and Rafe, “I know I haven’t been the best sister and having me back in your lives hasn’t been the easiest thing to adjust to, but I want to keep trying. I want to be here for you. To be a family. Jack and I have our own issues we have to work through, but from now on they won’t touch either of you. That’s a promise.”

Rafe glances between the two of us. “Did something happen?”

“We just want the best for you guys, that’s all. So what do you say?”

Donnie pauses, then gets in the truck and buckles up. “Can we have sausage on the pizza?”

A weight lifts from my chest and I reach into the back seat to pull their necks to me for a brief hug. “I don’t know what I ever did without you guys.”

“I’m sure you were miserable,” Rafe says. “We’re awesome.”

A laugh bubbles up in my throat. “Yes you are,” I say.

It won’t repair all the damage, but it’s a start. For both me and the boys and me and Jack.

I glance at him as he pulls away from the curb. Without turning, he places a hand on my knee. My eyes flicker down to it resting against my thigh. It’s been a long time since I had a man’s hands on me and felt…anything. Warmth furrows through my jeans and heats me from the inside out, just from one small point of contact. He squeezes and I meet his eyes.

“We’ll talk more later,” he says. “For now, just relax for God’s sake and let me take care of you for a while.”

“I don’t know about that, I think we both had enough when the boys and I were sick, but we can maybe have that truce you wanted. Be friends, or try to.”

His eyes deepen, turning dark green. “We’ll talk about that, too.”

My response clogs in my throat and all I can manage in response is a nod.

I watch the scenery blur in the window and cover his hand with my own. It’s big, bigger than I remember, and worn rough from years of hard work in the Marines and at the gym. After a few seconds, he releases his hold on my thigh and surprises us both by turning his hand over to hold mine.

When he stops at a stop light, he leans across the center console and kisses me on the forehead. There’s no heat behind it—at least not right now—and my eyes flutter closed. I didn’t realize how much I missed his touch, missed him, until I let him close. Let him in.

Now that he’s wormed his way past my defenses, I have the feeling he’s not going to let me go as easily this time.

At least, not without a fight.

And I don’t know if the turmoil in my stomach is from excitement or fear.

The three of them must be in cahoots because they spend the next three hours using a variety of tactics to blot out the dark cloud over my head. I chuck a piece of sausage from my pizza at Rafe’s head.

He turns and lifts an eyebrow. “What the hell was that for?”

Jack smacks him across the head. “Don’t say hell.”

Rafe rubs his head still looking at me. “Are you tryin’ to start a food fight, sis?”

My belly warms. “Not a chance. I clean up after you brats all day. There’s no way I want to make my job harder.”

“Then what’s the deal?”

I shrug, smiling. “Just felt like it.”

Rafe laughs and tosses the piece of sausage back up at me. I catch it mid-air and grin at him before tossing it in the empty pizza box.

“You look just like Mom when you do that,” he says.

I freeze on the couch, my back leaning up against Jack’s chest, his arm swung over the back. Rafe sits at my feet on the other end and Donnie is laying on the floor. He also freezes mid-laughter, looking up at us.

“What do you mean?” I manage when I’ve caught my breath.

“You’ve got her smile,” he says with a lift of his shoulders. “She always used to say you did, I remember Dad saying it, but I didn’t see it until now.”

My smile dies and I gulp around the knot in my throat. “I should have been here,” I tell him, ignoring the comedy we ordered to go with the junk food. “I’m sorry I wasn’t.”

“She missed you a lot,” he says, taking a bite of pizza. “I think she understood why you left, even if we didn’t.”

The room narrows and I force myself to breathe through the weight pressing in on my chest. “The reason I left—”