A Light in the Dark_Survival of the Fittest Read online

  Table of Contents

  A LIGHT IN THE DARK

  Acknowledgments

  Opening Act

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  A LIGHT IN THE DARK

  Survival Of The Fittest

  CHRISTINA KIRBY

  SOUL MATE PUBLISHING

  New York

  A LIGHT IN THE DARK

  Copyright©2018

  CHRISTINA KIRBY

  Cover Design by Leah Kaye-Suttle

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Published in the United States of America by

  Soul Mate Publishing

  P.O. Box 24

  Macedon, New York, 14502

  ISBN: 978-1-68291-653-7

  www.SoulMatePublishing.com

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  For my Brian

  I’ll follow you anywhere.

  There’s no one else I’d rather make plans with.

  Acknowledgments

  A special thank you to all my friends from the school pickup posse who listen to me gripe about what stage my book is in. You guys are the best.

  And, to my sweet neighbors for allowing the kids to come over and play when work gets derailed by ‘snow days.’

  Opening Act

  With the final chord reverberating around the stadium and the fan’s screams slicing through the air, Bailey exited the stage. The weightlessness signaling the end of the tour descended upon him, and brought with it a sense of relief. Their time on the road had been extensive, one of the longest tours of their careers, but the fans deserved it. They’d stuck by the band through what was admittedly the toughest year of their lives.

  But now, it was time for a break, and time off would be different than in the past. They didn’t have to rush into the studio to record the next album or jump through any promotional hoops. Their time was their own.

  Oliver, his big brother and the lead singer of Survival of the Fittest, slapped his shoulder. “Not a bad way to end it.”

  “No, man. You were at the top of your game.” Bailey accepted the offered towel from one of the roadies with a nod of thanks. “I know Lexie will be glad to have you home for a while.”

  His brother grinned like an idiot at the mere mention of his wife. “That she will. Hey,” Oliver turned and walked backwards, “don’t forget, dinner at our place tomorrow night.”

  Leo, their drummer, slung a sweaty arm around Bailey’s shoulders. “You know I’ll be there.”

  “Anytime there’s food, we know you’ll show.”

  Leo mussed Bailey’s hair and then popped his sweaty towel toward Oliver, making him take off down the backstage hallway. Leo gave chase and soon after, Bailey could only hear their shouts bouncing off the cinderblock walls.

  “They never change.” David joined Bailey as they made their way to the backstage entrance where four cars waited to drive each of them home.

  “Nope.” Bailey laughed. “Hey, how’s your lady?”

  “She’s good. Working her ass off as usual, but she’ll be there tomorrow night.” David pulled his Braves cap, a little memento from their time spent in Atlanta, out of his back pocket and pulled it down over his eyes. “Well,” he jerked his head in the direction of the stage, “It was fun while it lasted.”

  Bailey grinned, “It always is.”

  They each received a quick handshake from the security guard working the door as they pushed their way through and hurried to their cars. One at a time, the dark sedans rolled to a stop at the end of the alleyway, forcing the security guards decked out in yellow shirts to battle back the horde of fans. Women of all ages screamed and waved while a man with a thick mustache pointed a finger in his direction through the glass and stuck out his tongue, Gene Simmons style.

  To keep the fan’s efforts from going to waste, Bailey rolled his window down halfway and waved goodbye. The volume of the crowd shot from excited to deafening while fans screamed his name and several shouted offers of marriage. He rolled his window back up and leaned his head against the seat. If only they realized how far from marriage material he was.

  The cluster of faces faded, traded for the palm-tree-lined highway signaling the way to his house. The scene was familiar and while he liked Los Angeles, he longed for a change. His fingers tapped the armrest on the door, mirroring the unrest he’d been fighting for the last six months. The same unrest which had prompted him to apply to college. He still wasn’t sure it would fix what was ailing him, but assuming he got in, it would be a chance to try something new. And, potentially rediscover a dream he’d put on hold.

  The ocean waves crashed in the distance as he climbed out of the car, but beyond the tranquil sounds of the water there was silence. His place was empty. Thanks to his housekeeper, a plate of food was waiting on him in the fridge, but unlike his brother and David, there was no one there waiting for him.

  He popped the plate of chicken, brown rice, and edamame into the microwave and thumbed through the stack of mail sitting on the bar. There was the usual junk, several companies offering him medical services, a couple of bills, and an ad with a guy sporting a tarantula on his bald head offering pest control. Better you than me, dude.

  When the microwave beeped, he dropped the stack back onto the counter, but stopped again when the gold lettering shone from the corner of one of the envelopes. Food forgotten, he tore it open and scanned the letter, and then he scanned it again. He’d expected an email but hadn’t taken the time to work through the hundred plus messages awaiting him. This letter . . . he scanned the wording again. He was in. It seemed opportunity had arrived.
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  Okay, Honeycutt, so what now?

  Chapter 1

  The rare appearance of the sun and the start of the semester looming on the horizon, had driven everyone outside in search of familiar faces and a final chance at freedom. As Brie and Jessica, her flatmate of two years, made their way through the park they were forced to navigate through an unusual number of students, and to Brie’s dismay, another discussion about her lackluster love life.

  “Are you telling me blind-date-Henry had no redeeming qualities?”

  “None. Ugh, that’s the last time I let Mei set me up with one of her friends.” Brie stopped to spread a blanket over the lawn. “Between his bushy unibrow and the amount of times he talked about his mum, I’m convinced I would’ve been the third wheel in any sort of relationship with him.”

  “That’s too bad. You could’ve used a little one-on-one time with the ol’ gentleman’s sausage.”

  “Gross.”

  Jessica snorted, rolled up her bag, and set it on the ground to use as a pillow. “Forget him. There will be an entire new crop of guys hanging around, starting tomorrow.”

  “You do realize that the new ‘crop of guys’ as you so eloquently put it are going to be a bunch of teenagers. Adolescents still covered in the stench of their parents’ houses, hell-bent on testing their limits by drinking to excess and shagging whomever they can?”

  Jessica squinted at her with one eye, “What’s your point?”

  “I have no interest in being humped by some puppy. If I were going to take the time for a little roll, I’d at least want a man who knew what he was doing.” Brie looked out over the lawns where the spires from the university shot into the blue sky. Hundreds of years’ worth of scholars had passed through The University of Oxford’s hallways, and in a few short months she would join their ranks. “Besides, you say that like I’m going to have time to think about dating.”

  “That’s why I suggested a shag. You don’t need a boyfriend, but a little flirtation or a chance to get off with someone might do you some good.”

  Brie lay back on the ground and stared up at the sky. “No thanks. I have enough to focus on. Maybe next year I can revisit the topic again after I’ve managed to finish my dissertation.”

  “Please, the DPhil is as good as in your hands and if you wait until next year, you’ll be a dried up old prune by then.” Jessica rolled to her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Remember, if you don’t use it, you lose it.”

  Brie couldn’t keep from laughing. “You’re a piece of work, aren’t you?”

  “But, you love me.” Jessica leaned in and touched her nose to Brie’s. A Nome kiss as she called it. “Hey, listen to that.” The sound of a guitar floated on the air from the direction of the river. “I love that song.”

  Brie made a noncommittal noise as she listened to the voices of people close by, their laughter mixed with the music. It wasn’t unusual to hear instruments being played in the park. On more than one occasion groups of students would play impromptu concerts for passersby.

  As she lay in the grass with the sun on her face, she had to admit it was a pleasant afternoon. It was the kind they would all long for in a couple of months when the weather turned cold and forced everyone inside.

  “Let’s go down to the river and see what’s new.” Jessica stood and held her arms up over her head. “I’m in the mood to be spontaneous.”

  Brie shielded her eyes and groaned. “Can’t we just enjoy the peace?”

  “No. Now, come on.” Jessica held out a hand, for once free of the gray stain of sculpting clay, and helped Brie to her feet.

  They walked arm in arm down the path to the water’s edge and as they did, the music sounding from the guitar grew louder. Between the small cluster of people who’d stopped to listen, Brie could make out the man playing. He was propped on a tree stump with his legs spread and a coffee cup resting between his feet.

  “Let’s move in a little closer.” Jessica tugged her arm and half dragged Brie until they were directly in front of him.

  “This is hardly a little,” Brie murmured out of the corner of her mouth.

  Jessica offered a quiet, “Shh.”

  Brie bit her tongue and tried not to feel foolish as she concentrated on the music. After all, the man wasn’t paying any attention to the growing crowd. His head was bent and nodding to the rhythm of the song. She stood mesmerized as he glided from one familiar song into another and then into something she didn’t recognize.

  His fingers moved with agility across the strings and though his jeans were torn and his shirt wrinkled, he didn’t look like the usual street performer. Between the way his hair was cut short and the intricate tattoos covering one of his arms, he wasn’t at all what she’d expected.

  As he strummed a final chord the crowd broke out into applause. The man’s head rose and he nodded in thanks, and then, meeting Brie’s eyes, offered up a grin.

  Beautiful.

  “That was brilliant,” Jessica said. “Do you know any other Survival of the Fittest songs?”

  Though Jess was speaking from right beside her, the haze Brie was caught in made her seem much further away. She wanted to offer a compliment or at least a hello, but she couldn’t find the words. So instead, she continued to stare as though mute.

  He chuckled. “I know a few. Which one would you like to hear?”

  Jessica bounced on her toes. “Dark Days is one of my favorites.”

  “You got it.”

  He played the requested song, but this time he sang as well, his American accent doing nothing to help Brie compose her nerves. As his voice rose and his deft fingers moved along the neck of the guitar, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what his hands would feel like on her body. What was it about men and music?

  “He’s completely fit,” Jessica whispered from beside her.

  They rarely had the same taste in men, but this time Brie couldn’t argue. There was something interesting about the man before them, some sort of depth projected as he sang. She felt pulled to him, suddenly curious as to what he was thinking. It was the same way she wanted to go back in time and talk to the painters who’d created the works of art she studied. The scholar in her needed to know more.

  The song finished up and Jessica clapped at a volume bordering on embarrassing. “That was completely amazing. Thank you. They’re a favorite of mine, well that’s obvi, I guess.”

  “Mine, too.” He turned his gaze on Brie again. “And, what about you? Are you a fan of Survival’s music or is there someone else who would please you more?”

  “What? Oh, um. That was fine.”

  Jessica elbowed her in the side.

  “No, I mean it was better than fine. Here,” Brie dug around in her pocket and pulled out a coin where she then proceeded to toss it into his cup. Coffee splashed over the rim and splattered down the legs of his jeans. He shot to his feet and set his guitar to the side.

  Her stomach dropped at the same time she dropped to her knees and tried to wipe his legs dry with her flowery scarf. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” She continued to pat at his legs until a hand appeared beside her face. She tilted her head back, her cheeks scalding, and stared at his outstretched hand.

  “It’s all good. No harm done.” He reached a little further and she took his hand, unsure if it was simply her embarrassment or something else that sent the jolt through her at his touch.

  “Seriously, I’m such a git.” She backed up a step and didn’t miss the look of amusement Jessica was sending her way. “I should’ve looked first.”

  “It’s no biggie. I was heading out anyway.” He gathered up his guitar and his cup. “Maybe I’ll see you two around.”

  “Sorry again,” she called as she buried her face in her friend’s shoulder.

  Jessic
a patted her on the back. “It’s okay. I’m sure it happens all the time.”

  “Yeah, right.” With her hot face still buried she mumbled, “I sure hope that isn’t a sign as to how the rest of the year is going to play out.”

  “Not on my watch.” Jessica looped her arm through Brie’s and pulled her through the dispersing crowd. “Come out with me tonight.” When Brie let her head fall back and dragged her feet, Jessica pulled harder. “Don’t make me beg, because you know I will and I’ll do it at the top of my lungs, too.”

  “Didn’t we just talk about this? I could swear I made myself clear on the topic of dating, at least for the foreseeable future.”

  “All I heard was blah-blah-blah when what I needed to hear was, ‘You know what, Jess? You’re right. We could use a night out before school starts and since I’m your best friend in the world, I’d be happy to hit the pub with you.’ That’s what I needed to hear from you, missy. There will be plenty of time for studies after classes start.

  “And, I don’t know about you, but after watching the finger work of that guy back there, whew . . .”

  Brie shook her head. “You’re insane. You know that, right?”

  “Oh, please. You thought he was hot, too. I haven’t seen you flustered like that in forever.”

  “I don’t care how buff he was. I’m through with artists.”

  “He was a musician.”

  Brie crossed her arms. “Artists, musicians—no more creative types for me at all.” She glanced down at her feet while trying to push memories of her past relationship back down in the depths where they belonged. “Not after the last time.”

  “Okay, that’s fair, but you could still come out with me and maybe we can find you a nice accountant or solicitor in the making.”