Excerpt Reveal: Fighting Solitude by Aly Martinez
“Jesus Christ, Quarry! Calm down.
You’re making it worse.” Till pointed toward the building where
the woman I loved lay dead in a coffin.
Oh, God.
My eyes, tunneled by rage, flashed
around the mob of reporters before landing on the front steps of the
funeral home, where an even bigger crowd of Mia’s friends and
family were watching me violently break down—again.
“I need to get out of here,” I
mumbled, straightening my shirt.
“Good idea,” he replied, shoving me
toward my car. “I’ll drive.”
“No. I want to be alone.”
“You can’t drive right now, Q.”
“Watch me.”
“You cannot be behind the wheel…”
He carried on with some explanation, but I was more than done
listening. The silence had never sounded so good.
Looking up at the sky, I sucked in a
breath so deep that it caused my lungs to ache. I refused to release
it though.
Don’t exhale.
Ignoring Till’s protests, I dug my
keys from my pocket and folded into my car. Barely managing to
squeeze around the relentless reporters, I started toward the exit.
This is not happening.
Don’t breathe.
My lungs were on fire, but it felt a
hell of a lot better than what was going on in my heart, so I bit my
lip and let it blaze—praying that it would eventually engulf me.
Glancing in my review mirror, I saw the
cops rolling into the parking lot, but that wasn’t what made me
stop. My breath left me on a rush as I slammed on the brakes the
moment she came into view.
Liv was standing in the middle of the
road, staring at my taillights.
Her big, brown eyes were as empty as I
felt, and her face was painted with absolute anguish. Without out a
single second of hesitation, I leaned over and pushed the passenger’s
side door open in invitation. In a pair of heels and a short, black
dress, she sprinted forward, not slowing until her ass hit my leather
seat. Her door hadn’t even shut before I was off again.
After turning her cell phone off, she
tossed it in the glove box. Mine quickly followed. She didn’t ask
any questions as I pulled onto the highway in the exact opposite
direction of both of our apartments. She didn’t want to go home any
more than I did.
Our destination was unknown, and that
alone made it infinitely better than the one we’d just left.
I drove.
And drove.
Then, when I was sick and tired of
aimlessly driving, I drove some more.
With the exception of Liv flipping the
radio on when the sun went down, we sat in absolute silence for over
four hours.
Alone, yet still together.
Finally, around ten p.m., with an empty
tank of gas and sleepy eyes, I slipped into a parking space in front
of the apartment Liv and Mia shared. Liv didn’t delay in pushing
the door open, but that’s the only effort she put into getting out.
Dropping her head against the headrest,
she whispered at the windshield, “Her parents told me she left
letters for us. We can pick them up whenever we’re ready.”
“I don’t want a fucking letter. She
lied. She’s sorry. I got it. Nothing left to say.”
“Maybe it will explain stuff though.
It might help.”
My angry gaze jumped to her, but she
was still staring out the window.
“Will it bring her back?” I asked.
“No? Then I don’t need a goddamn letter. Fuck that. Fuck her
parents too. I don’t want shit from them.”
“They didn’t kill her, Quarry.”
“How can you say that?”
Her eyes finally met mine. “It was
what Mia wanted. She signed the Do Not Resuscitate order, not them.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?
Please, God, tell me you are not actually siding with them? Because,
if I recall correctly, we both begged them not to give up on her.
They didn’t give a shit about anyone. Liv, they didn’t even get a
second opinion.”
“I’m not siding with anyone but
Mia. She made a choice. We have to respect it.” Her expression was
emotionless, even though her voice trembled.
“Respect it? Fuck her shitty choice.
She should have respected me enough to let me have a say.”
She laughed without humor. “You never
would have let her go, Q.”
I slammed the heel of my palm against
the steering wheel. “You’re goddamn right I wouldn’t have!”
“She had brain cancer. It was going
to happen one way or another. She knew it. And she made a decision.
We don’t get to be mad about that.”
“Get the fuck out of my car.”
“No. Listen to me—”
“I’ll start listening the moment
you stop spouting the bullshit her parents shoved down your throat
tonight.”
She raised her voice for the first time
all day. “It’s the truth!”
“It’s bullshit! All of it. How am I
supposed to respect the fact that she lied to me for six months? Six
fucking months that I could have used to prepare for this.”
“Oh my God, Quarry!” she yelled,
exasperated. “Do you seriously think six months could have ever
prepared you for this? I could have known since the day I met her and
I still wouldn’t have been ready to lose her.”
“I could have tried! I could have
spent that time devoted to being with her instead of traveling to
fights. Jesus Christ, Liv, last weekend, I went out with the guys
from the gym to play pool. The last fucking Saturday night of her
life on this Earth and I was shooting pool with a bunch of assholes I
can barely stand. Six months she kept the fact that she was dying a
secret. Six. Fucking. Months. You’re right. I wouldn’t have been
ready to let her go, but at least I could have figured out how to say
goodbye. Instead, all I got was to squeeze her hand, say, ‘I love
you,’ and then be escorted out of the hospital by security. Fuck!”
“That’s because you were acting
like a fool and threatening her family! That was your choice!”
“Get the fuck out of my car. Now!”
“And it’s also the reason you got
thrown out of the visitation tonight. Get your shit together or you
won’t be allowed at the funeral tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to go to the
funeral!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, making her flinch. “I
don’t want there to be a funeral at all. Now, I’m serious. Get.
The fuck. Out. Of my car.”
Through gritted teeth, she seethed,
“You know what I’ll never understand? How you claim to be so in
love with her, but in this entire conversation, I haven’t heard you
say a single word that wasn’t about you. How this affects you. How
this hurt you. Last time I checked, you aren’t the one being buried
tomorrow.”
“I wish I were!”
“Fuck you! The world doesn’t
revolve around Quarry Page!” With that, she jumped out and slammed
the door.
I didn’t even wait for her to make it
to the sidewalk before I was peeling out of the parking lot.
Fighting Solitude is Book Three in the
On The Ropes Series by Aly Martinez and is Quarry’s highly
anticipated story releasing February 2nd!
Now Available for Pre-order
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1HToXGM
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1OgAs7R
Barnes & Noble:
http://bit.ly/1NU89lo
iBooks: http://apple.co/1Qu2XTZ
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1lsjHQt
**Each book in the series can be read
as a standalone**
**Special Pre-order Pricing!**
I was born a fighter. Abandoned by my
parents, I spent my life forging my own path—one guided by my fists
and paved with pain.
Untouchable in the ring, I destroyed
everyone who faced me, but that’s where my victories ended. Outside
the ropes, I repeatedly failed the few people who loved me. Including
my best friend, Liv James—the one person I’d die to protect.
Even though I didn’t deserve her, Liv
never stopped believing in me. Never gave up. Never let go. After
all, she understood what I’d lost, because she’d lost it too.
Liv was everything to me, but she was
never truly mine.
That was going to change.
I lost my first love, but I refused to
lose my soulmate.
Now, I’m on the ropes during the
toughest battles of my life.
Fighting to be the man she deserves.
Fighting the solitude of our pasts.
Fighting for her.
Fighting Silence (Book One) On the
Ropes
ONLY $0.99
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1Lhhn62
B&N:
http://bit.ly/FightingSilenceBN
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iBooks: http://bit.ly/1zbJT0u
Fighting Shadows (Book Two) On The
Ropes
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1HE3kt8
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1faAHHy
B&N: http://bit.ly/1CaD9rN
Kobo: http://bit.ly/1LKEurE
iBooks: http://apple.co/1TcpHIa
Born and raised in Savannah, Georgia,
Aly Martinez is a stay-at-home mom to four crazy kids under the age
of five, including a set of twins. Currently living in South
Carolina, she passes what little free time she has reading anything
and everything she can get her hands on, preferably with a glass of
wine at her side.
After some encouragement from her
friends, Aly decided to add “Author” to her ever-growing list of
job titles. Five books later, she shows no signs of slowing. So grab
a glass of Chardonnay, or a bottle if you’re hanging out with Aly,
and join her aboard the crazy train she calls life.
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