Warrior (First to Fight #1)(67)

It’s then that the pieces click together. “You think that Cole getting kidnapped was your fault?” Now, I hurt for him instead of me.

His face is hard. Unreadable. “I told you that you wouldn’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to lose people that you’re responsible for. I can’t let my failures or my weakness be the reason that he’s hurt again, Livvie. If I hadn’t been distracted by those f*ckin’ fireworks, this never would have happened.”

“Ben, we were both there. There were a million people around us. It wasn’t your fault. The person that kidnapped him is to blame, not you.”

“I’m not going to argue about this with you, Liv.”

“Then stay. Don’t go.”

“I can’t.” His scent lingers as his steps recede into darkness. Tears pool and fall down my cheeks as I close the front door behind him.





IN RETROSPECT, IT was a good thing I had so much to do before going back to work again. Thank God the school board was understanding, considering the circumstances. Had they not, I would have been single—again—and jobless. Focusing on returning to work, getting all of the paperwork completed and lesson plans organized is just what I need after my horrific break-up with Ben.

Could it be called a break-up if it had never really started in the first place? Can you break up considering our f*cked-up way of “dating”?

I push the thought and resulting self-doubt from my mind. The last place on my list was to visit the accounting department at the school board to turn in the last of my paperwork. Then I can pick up Cole from Ben’s parents’ house, where he is due for dinner. They’d invited us a few days ago, but—no, I stop that train of thought right in its tracks. This makes the third time Ben has walked away from me, and I am determined it will be the last.

I get a text from Sofie and my cell rings just as I’m pulling up to the school board office. I throw the car in park and dive into my purse to retrieve it. I recognize Ben’s mother’s number and my heart leaps into my throat at the thought that something could be wrong with Cole.

“Hello?” I answer breathlessly, putting the phone on speaker so I can make sure everything’s okay with Sof.

“Hi, Olivia. This is Sheila Hart.”

I try to control my instant panic. “Yeah, hey, Sheila. Is everything okay?”

“Yes, honey, Cole is fine. Everything is fine.”

I heave a sigh of relief and open up the text message. “Good, that’s good. Was there something you needed?”

Back when we were all younger, Mrs. Hart had been like the local mother hen, mothering all of the neighborhood children. When my father died, she was one of the first people to come and cook up a storm to feed all of those visiting with their condolences. She reminded me a lot of my mom, Celeste, which only made me miss her all the more.

Now, I don’t know how to handle her. It reminds me too much of what I’ve lost.

I rub a hand into my eyes and hope I can get through this unscathed. Based on how her son essentially made me crash and burn, that’s unlikely. Sofie’s attachment to the text takes me to an outside link. Based on the URL it looks like some sort of news report.

“You need to do something about this, girl. I’m at the end of my rope.”

I blink at the empty parking lot in front of me then rub a hand over my brow. When I said mother hen, I meant it. She’s the nosiest, most busy-body woman in the county—probably the state. So I ask cautiously, “What do you mean?

“I mean, I’ve had it up to here.” The word here is emphasized and I can picture her, clear as day, gesturing with one hand above her head. “…With this boy and his nonsense.”

Considering she has four men she noses after, I say, “Which boy?”

“It wasn’t that long ago that I thought maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to help pull him out of this funk, but he seems bound and determined not to let that happen.”

My heart sinks when my suspicions are confirmed. She can only mean Ben and I really, really would rather not talk about what’s going on between us with her. Though it was inevitable, really.

I decide to shoot for honesty because, well, honestly, I don’t have the energy left for anything else. “You know Ben,” I say simply. “He won’t change unless he makes his mind up to change. There’s nothing I can do or say that will pull him out of any funk unless he wants to be pulled out of it. And you and I both know whatever he’s dealing with goes a lot further than a funk.”

She sighs, the rasp of it amplified through the speaker, and I wince as I go through the papers I need to turn in. “I just thought that I finally had my son back. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him so...happy, that I’m willing to do anything to help him stay that way. You’re a mother. I know you don’t understand now, but you will.”

I press my fingers against my eyes. “I understand where you’re coming from, Sheila, but Ben clearly said that he and I weren’t going to work out, and I’m tired of beating my head against a wall.”

“It’s their father,” she tells me. “All four of my kids have his bullheadedness.”

I highly doubt that, but I wouldn’t dare say a word to her. In an uncharacteristic show of emotion, I whisper, “He hurt me and he didn’t have to.”