Dare to Live

  Dare to Live

  The Maxwell Series Book 5

  S.B. Alexander

  Raven Wing Publishing

  Dare to Live

  Book Five: The Maxwell Series

  Copyright © 2017 by S.B. Alexander

  All rights reserved

  First Edition:

  E-book ISBN-13: 978-0-9989157-4-6

  Print ISBN-13: 978-0-9989157-5-3

  Visit: www.sbalexander.com

  Editor: Red Adept Editing, www.redadeptediting.com

  Cover Design by Hang Le: http://www.byhangle.com

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons-living or dead-is entirely coincidental.

  Adult Content Warning: The content contained is the book includes adult language and sexual content. This book is intended for adult audiences 17 years of age and older.

  Contents

  Don’t Miss Out

  Dare to Live Playlist

  1. Kody

  2. Jessie

  3. Kody

  4. Jessie

  5. Kody

  6. Jessie

  7. Jessie

  8. Kody

  9. Jessie

  10. Kody

  11. Jessie

  12. Jessie

  13. Kody

  14. Jessie

  15. Kody

  16. Jessie

  17. Kody

  18. Jessie

  19. Jessie

  20. Kody

  21. Jessie

  22. Kody

  23. Jessie

  24. Jessie

  25. Kody

  26. Jessie

  27. Kody

  28. Jessie

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Dear Reader

  Connect with S.B. Alexander

  Titles by S.B. Alexander

  Acknowledgements

  Cupid’s Aim

  Don’t Miss Out

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  Website: http://sbalexander.com

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to all those affected by breast cancer in some way, and those who are breast cancer survivors.

  Dare to Live Playlist

  “Lay Me Down” Sam Smith

  “Angel-Live” Sarah McLachlan

  “If I Ever Get Around To Living” John Mayer

  “Speak to a Girl” Tim McGraw & Faith Hill

  “Tin Man” Miranda Lambert

  “Building a Mystery” Sarah McLachlan

  “Keep Your Eyes On Me” Tim McGraw & Faith Hill

  “Love Come - Piano Version” Sarah McLachlan

  “Don’t Let Me Let You Go” Jamie Lawson

  “Let’s Hurt Tonight” One Republic

  “How to Save a Life” The Fray

  Chapter 1

  Kody

  I slung my guitar over my back, grabbed the bouquet of carnations, then pounded my feet into the soft earth of the desolate cemetery. The scent of rain hung in the air, and the dark ominous clouds threatened to open up at any minute.

  I sneezed. The May weather had been quite rainy, jacking up my allergies. A headache loomed as my eyes watered. It didn’t help that the light wind carried with it pollen and fresh-cut grass, making my nose itch to the point I wanted to sneeze again.

  Passing a headstone on my way to the apple tree, my body shook as I let loose a massive sneeze, not once but three times. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Not the most sanitary thing to do, but I’d forgotten the wad of tissues I had in my truck.

  A lawn mower buzzed. Scanning the area, I let out a thankful sigh when I spotted the groundskeeper on the far side of the cemetery. Grass clippings were far worse for my allergies than the sea of flowers dotting the landscape or the bouquet in my hand.

  My runny nose went by the wayside as I approached Mandy’s grave. Six years ago today, Mandy’s family, friends, the entire student body of Kensington High School, my brothers, my dad, and anyone in town who knew Mandy had gathered at her gravesite in Ashford, Massachusetts. We’d paid our respects to the beautiful, vibrant, and sweet girl, who I couldn’t get out of my head. A sting in my heart had settled in on that gloomy and abysmal day, and even years later, it felt as strong as ever. I’d met Mandy on the first day of school, and I would never forget how her brown eyes lit up, how she smiled as though I was the only person in the hallway, or how she shied away, flirty and beautiful, when I returned the smile.

  I placed the bouquet of flowers on the ledge of her gravestone before I unhooked my guitar and sat down on the damp and dewy grass. Another sneeze wracked my body. Damn, I would have to take an extra dose of allergy medicine later. Once I cleared my eyes and nose, I started strumming my guitar. Every year, I visited her grave and always played a song from her favorite artist, Sarah McLachlan. I hummed the tune before I started singing out loud. “You’re in the arms of an angel. May you find some comfort here.”

  As I played and sang, goose bumps blanketed my body. The song was so powerful, but it also brought back so many memories. I’d always told her she was my angel, a light who had shone on my darkest days. She’d taken away my sadness, lifted me out of my depression, made me laugh again, and above all else, gave me a purpose to live… until her death. I had moped around like a zombie after my sister’s fatal accident. That depression consumed me once again when Mandy died, and it still lingered to this day.

  I picked at my guitar, blending the words of the song into a low, soft hum. Tears pricked at my eyes as I remembered our phone call just before Mandy had crashed on her motorcycle. She’d been spooked when she’d run into a nemesis of my brother, Kade’s, at a gas station outside of town. I’d told her to ignore Greg Sullivan and get on the road. Deep down, I blamed myself for her death. If I hadn’t urged her to get the fuck away from Sullivan as fast as she could, she still might be alive, although I also blamed Sullivan. I’d always believed he chased her out of that gas station and through the back roads of Lancaster that day. But the police, with all their calculations of tire marks, ruled her death an accident.

  My dad had said to put the past behind me. We didn’t have evidence to prove otherwise, and I had to get on with my life. Easier said than done.

  Over the years, I’d slipped into a routine. I didn’t date that much, and when I did, I found older women who didn’t want a serious relationship. I couldn’t bring myself to let anyone in. My psychiatrist, Dr. Davis, said some people took years to move on with their lives.

  I wiped away the tears, staring at Mandy’s headstone. The epitaph read, “Mandy Louise Shear, loving daughter, tomboy, and sweet soul.” She was more than a sweet soul. She was life, happiness, and the girl who still had a strong hold on my heart.

  I would give anything to change the past and that fateful day so I could have another chance with her—another chance to hold her hand, to hear her laugh, to snuggle with her on the couch as we watched action movies—instead of visiting her gravesite, mourning her loss.

  A soft breeze blew as I began picking at my guitar again. I sang another of Sarah’s
songs, “I Will Remember You.” Mandy had been the one to turn me on to Sarah, and since then, I listened to Sarah’s music any chance I had.

  My eyes drifted shut as my fingers glided over the strings. I sang softly until someone sniffled behind me.

  I popped to my feet and found Mandy’s mom with tears flowing down her rosy cheeks. My body stiffened. She reminded me so much of Mandy, with her dark hair framing her face and her big brown eyes. As my breathing increased, I was glad I hadn’t seen Mrs. Shear in years. Memories of Mandy began to skip through my brain, and one in particular stuck out. She and her mom had walked into the local coffee shop in Ashford the first day I’d met Mandy at school. I’d been sitting at a table, doing homework, when the bell on the door jingled. Mandy and her mom had come in, laughing, and I remembered how the two could’ve passed for sisters.

  Mrs. Shear craned her neck to look up at me as she wiped her tears. “Sarah was Mandy’s favorite. She would’ve loved hearing you sing.”

  I frowned. I hadn’t been playing the guitar or singing when I’d met Mandy. We’d both loved music, but I hadn’t taken up the guitar until after her funeral. Music had become my healer, a way for me to cope, a way for me to get lost in my own world—one that didn’t include death or unhappiness.

  Mrs. Shear skirted around me to place one white rose on top of the carnations. “Mandy adored roses, white ones in particular. She always said that a white rose was the prettiest of all the colors.”

  Mandy had had a thing for the color white. When I’d asked her why, she had always said it was because no one picked that color as their favorite, and she liked to be different. And different she’d been. She was the first girl at Kensington High to play on a boys’ baseball team. She rode motorcycles and dirt bikes and loved fast cars. On Sundays during football season, I couldn’t tear her away from a New England Patriots game. When I’d tried to make out with her during a game, she would push me away. My brothers had always laughed at me.

  Kade had said, “Dude, you have to marry that girl someday.”

  A pain as sharp as a tack stabbed me in the chest, but I smiled anyway.

  Mrs. Shear touched my hand. “Kody.”

  I blinked away the memory.

  “I saw your parents at church last week. Your mom tells me you haven’t found a girlfriend yet. As much as I miss and love my daughter, we all have to get on with our lives. She would want you to find that special someone.”

  I swallowed the huge-ass lump in my throat. She was right. Dr. Davis was right, and even my father was right. I just couldn’t kick the tight feeling in my chest, and I didn’t know why. I felt like it was just yesterday that Mandy and I had been kissing or lying on the baseball field at Kensington High, laughing and talking about everything and nothing.

  “It’s hard,” I said. So fucking hard.

  She gave me a hug. “I know. But what helps me is Mandy died doing what she loved, and as much as I hated her riding, I would never have stopped her because motorcycles made her happy. There are risks in everything we do on a daily basis. Just remember that.”

  My phone rang, startling both of us. Mrs. Shear let go of me as I fumbled for my phone in the pocket of my jeans. By the time I plucked it out, the ringing had stopped.

  “I should call my dad back.” My dad hardly called when he was working unless he needed something. Maybe he wanted me to bring him lunch. I could go for something to eat. “It was great to see you.” I hiked my guitar over my shoulder.

  Mrs. Shear gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

  Nodding, I hoofed it back to my truck, tapping my dad’s name on my phone. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to get to the hospital.” His voice was sharp, but shaky. “I had to take your mother to the emergency room, and someone needs to sit with Raven.”

  My hunger pangs turned to nausea as my heart stopped. “Is Mom okay? What happened?” The cemetery narrowed to a pinpoint.

  “I’ll explain when you get here.” The phone went dead.

  My dad was always the calm one in the family unless the situation involved my mom. I didn’t blame him. My brothers and I were the same when it came to our mom. She’d been so fragile after Karen had died, and rightfully so. She’d been the one to find her daughter dead on the garage floor.

  My guitar bounced on my back as I sprinted the rest of the way to my truck. My mind scrambled, while my insides felt as if someone had taken a knife and carved a hole in my gut.

  In a flash, I was driving through the streets of Ashford. Thankfully, the neighborhoods were quiet as I tried not to speed through stop signs. Within ten minutes, I was plowing through the emergency room doors like a bulldozer on steroids, trying to regulate my breathing, which was erratic—and not from running.

  The minute I was inside, the scent of cleaning fluid knocked me back a step as I searched the room full of waiting patients. A little boy cried on his mother’s lap. Two people waited in line at the information counter. Doctors sped by with nurses at their sides.

  I despised hospitals. I hated the atmosphere and the memories that surfaced anytime I was in one. But I wasn’t there to remember how I’d lived in a hospital for quite some time when Sullivan and his cronies had beaten me to a pulp.

  My dad was nowhere to be found, which didn’t surprise me. As a psychiatrist, he had several colleagues who worked there, and he knew most of the staff as well.

  I dialed his number. “Where are you? I’m here.” I bit on a nail, my pulse still off the charts. If anything happened to my mom, I wouldn’t recover.

  “I’ll be right out.” The line went dead.

  In less than a minute, he stalked out from a door adjacent to the information counter, with Raven bouncing in his arms. My dad looked like an older version of Kade—tall, light-brown hair, and eyes to match—eyes that were clouded with tears.

  Fear writhed through me, creating a large knot that grew tighter and tighter the closer he got. “Tell me.”

  Raven extended her arms. “Uncle Kody.” Her bright-blue eyes and smile told me she didn’t know what was going on.

  I opened my arms to my adorable five-year-old niece, who was sporting two black pigtails. “Hey, bumblebee.” My brother Kross always called his little girl his bumblebee.

  She giggled as she latched her tiny arms around my neck.

  “Your mom was experiencing chest pains,” Dad said. “We’re waiting on the doctor now. Can you take Raven home? I’ll let you know as soon as I hear something.”

  “I’m not leaving.” No way. I wanted to be there in the event that something happened. I would rather bite my nails and pace the halls of the hospital than wait at home, only to rush through the streets again. “I’ll head down to the cafeteria. Maybe they’ll have some ice cream.” I kept my voice soft and light. I didn’t want to scare Raven any more than she might have been already, although she didn’t show any signs that she was sad or afraid for my mom.

  Raven wiggled in my arms. “I want cookie dough.”

  “Kody,” Dad said. “Let’s not worry your brothers right now.”

  Driving over there, I hadn’t exactly been thinking about my brothers, but they needed to know. Kade would be more furious than anyone if we didn’t call him. If the roles were reversed and I weren’t close by, I would have wanted him to call me. After all, as brothers, we kept each other informed of everything, especially when it came to family. But since Mom wasn’t in immediate danger, it was probably best to wait until she saw the doctor. Besides, Kross and Ruby were out of town for one of his boxing matches, and Kade and Kelton lived in Boston, which was about an hour’s drive, depending on traffic. We didn’t need them speeding down the highway to get there and running the risk of an accident.

  Dad vanished through the double doors. With Raven in my arms, I followed the signs to the cafeteria, chills wracking my body. I prayed with each step that nothing was seriously wrong with my mom.

  “Uncle Kody.” My niece’s voice was so sweet.
“Do you think Nana will be okay?”

  Maybe she was a little freaked after all.

  “The doctor will take good care of her.” I couldn’t lie to her and tell her that my mom would be fine. If she weren’t, then Raven would always remember that I was the one who said Nana would be okay. Then she would hate me. I wasn’t into lying, anyway. Lies led to distrust, and those were two things I hated. “Maybe the cafeteria will have ice cream that tastes like honey. Because you know bees like honey.” I had to take her mind and mine off Nana.

  She rolled her eyes as we navigated the halls of the hospital, passing nurses and doctors, and patients in wheelchairs. “I told you I want cookie dough.”

  “Have you been talking to the cookie monster?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe.” Then she giggled.

  Once in the cafeteria, I set her on two feet and held her hand. She broke free and ran up to the case of desserts and sweets. I would bet she was eyeing the cupcakes. Aside from ice cream, she loved cupcakes. She had helped me bake a batch the week prior.

  Two male doctors paid for their coffees then headed toward the tables behind us. I checked the menu. If they sold ice cream, they probably didn’t have cookie dough, only the basics.

  Raven ran back to me, pointing at the assorted sweets. “I want that cupcake with the blue frosting.”