Warrior (First to Fight #1)(37)



Dad and the boys dig into their plates and studiously avoid my gaze. “Mom?”

“Come with me then if you want to continue this act. I’ll show you.”

Mom leads me from the dining room into the den where the TV is already on and at our local news station. I glance from it to her expectantly. When she doesn’t say anything, I make an impatient gesture. “Well, are you going to show me?” I ask.

Before she can answer, a name on the screen catches my attention. If I thought being in hell for the past year was bad, I was sorely mistaken. My knees give and I slump onto the couch, my eyes glued to the reporters outside a nondescript office building. Behind the anchor and the crowd of people are an ambulance and a host of police officers.

Flashing on the screen is a picture of Olivia from high school. I remember the night it was taken. She’d just been accepted to Florida State University and her parents threw her a party to celebrate.

“Why would I hide that from you?” I ask, my voice hoarse. “Why is Olivia on the news?”

“Not that,” my mom answers gently. She indicates the second picture on the screen. Olivia’s son, Cole. And, according to Jack, my son.

I look at her quizzically.

My brain is still stuck on the image of Livvie’s face on T.V. in relation to an accident. Adrenaline surges through me and I jerk to my feet.

“I have to get to the hospital. Jack. I have to call Jack. Why didn’t you tell me when I got here?” My mind flashes back to the chaos after the first bomb. To the feeling of helplessness and sheer fear. Is she dead?

“Local law enforcement were called to the scene of the crime,” the young female reporter says, “when nearby business owners reported shots fired. The events in question were confirmed by a second eye-witness report from a patient actually in the doctor’s office at the time of the shooting. There are no fatalities at this point; however, a young woman was shot and has been taken by ambulance earlier this afternoon. Her young child, who was diagnosed with hypoplastic left heart syndrome, a congenital heart defect, is undergoing evaluations by his cardiologist as a precaution. He will be released into the care of close family members.”

My chest seizes as they flash the pictures on the screen again. As I leave my mother sputtering questions at my back, the only thing I can think of is the little boy’s smile.





I GROAN AS I come awake, jerking to a sitting position. My head protests with a vicious throb. Instinctively, I reach to pull the covers off and get to my feet, but find I am too weak to move. I manage to open my eyes and find myself face-to-face with Jack. If his concentrated expression is anything to go by, I am in serious shit.

“Cole?” I ask immediately, because not a day has gone by since his birth that he isn’t my first thought when I wake up in the morning. I remember the sound of gunshots and Cole’s high-pitched wails in my ears and I ask more frantically, “Where is he?”

Jack shakes his head. “He’s fine, he’s fine. Ben has him walking the halls so you could rest. He wasn’t hurt.”

I try to sit up again, but a piercing ache in my arm nearly has me doubled over. “Shit,” I gasp. “What happened? Why does Ben have Cole?”

“You were shot. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember someone shooting at me, but I didn’t see who it was. It all happened so fast. All I could think about was getting Cole safe.” I raise a hand to my head. “I think I hit my head.”

“You did. Real graceful-like, according to the nurses. You lost a lot of blood.” Jack leans his head down over our clasped hands. “Scared the shit out of me, Livvie-girl. I can’t believe I almost lost you.”

“I’m sorry, Jack.” Tears pool in my eyes, and I clear my throat.

“No, don’t be. I’m just so f*cking glad you’re okay. All you need to focus on is resting, getting better. Logan is making sure they’re interviewing everyone.”

My brow creases. “Logan? Is he even allowed to do that? Wait, does he think it’s related to the breakin?”

“He said we shouldn’t rule it out. Besides, it can’t just be a coincidence that your house gets broken into and then you get shot at. Fuck, Livvie. Someone wanted to kill you.”

I shake my head and instantly regret it. “No, no, that can’t be right. I’m no one. I’ve got nothing. Who in the hell would want to do that?”

“We don’t know, but like I said, Logan’s on it just to be sure.”

A hard, heavy weight presses in on my chest. Tears cloud my vision. I can’t catch my breath. I don’t understand what Ben is doing at the hospital. The fact that he’s wedging himself so firmly back into my life is almost too much to handle. I wipe my eyes as the tears fall and try to pull myself together. “I need to see Cole.”

He kisses my brow then lays his forehead on mine for a few heavy moments. I am grateful. Grateful to the family that had given me up. Grateful for two generous, loving hearts. Grateful for the family I didn’t deserve, but loved me anyway.

After he left, I broke down; I couldn’t help it even if I tried. The fear and panic came flooding back and, coupled with the sense of relief that my baby was safe, it mixed and poured out of me in tears.

And the guilt. For every moment I wished I could go back to the single girl I’d once been. Even if they were only fleeting. What would I have done if he’d been hurt? I can’t even fathom how I could repair that hole. It would have been my fault for not protecting him, not keeping him safe.

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