Fight for You: A Second Chance Romance (A Warrior for Her Book 1)

by Ayden K. Morgen

  "Yeah?" I ask, staring at her lips because I can't help myself.

  She nods, her teeth pressing into her bottom lip before she releases it, leaving it wet and glistening. "Do you…I mean, are you–?"

  "Am I what, baby girl? Say it," I whisper, running my thumb along her bottom lip. It's so soft. Every part of her is soft and sweet. My cock throbs in my jeans, begging for relief he isn't getting anytime soon. Until I'm inside January, he's just going to have to suffer.

  "Are you staying?" she breathes out.

  "Do you want me to stay?"

  She nods, not breaking eye contact.

  "Fuck," I mumble and then lean forward and take her lips in a bruising kiss. Our tongues dance together and then break apart before coming together again. Her lips are so damn soft against mine. So is her tongue. Kissing her is heaven and hell at once. Heaven because she's perfect. Hell because I want her spread out beneath me, but I can't have that yet.

  Reluctantly, I ease off, slowing the kiss. She sighs into my mouth, her breath so fucking sweet. Her hands are all twisted up in my hair, holding me to her as I nip at her lips and then press mine to each corner of her mouth.

  "Cade," she whispers quietly, just like she used to do when we were kids and I'd kiss her. It's still my favorite sound in the world.

  "You're my home, January," I whisper a moment later, leaning back so she can see me and know I mean what I'm telling her. Her lips are swollen from my kisses. She looks like a little doll with happiness brimming in those bright eyes and her cheeks flushed. "Even if you had kicked me out of here today, I wouldn't be going back to Seattle. I'm staying right here with you."

  "You are?" Her expression is so full of hope that I can't help but chuckle at her.

  "I never once stopped loving you. I never stopped wanting you. I left back then because I didn't feel like I deserved you and I was terrified you would hate me if you knew the truth," I tell her, my voice firm so she knows I'm not feeding her a line. "I'm still not sure I deserve you or that I'll ever believe someone like me—someone who's done the things I've done—could possibly deserve you, but I'm going to try like hell to prove myself wrong. I spent years in hell, waiting for you."

  "Since she is here, in a place of blackness, here I stay and wait," she whispers the words from the Stephen Crane poem I had immortalized in my skin.

  "Not anymore," I tell her. "I'm done waiting and I'm done making you wait. We're both breaking free of the blackness. Together."

  "Together," she vows.

  That promise reflects in her eyes, sending my heart soaring.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  January

  Present Day

  "Naz," Cade growls into the phone, pinching the bridge of his nose. The thunderous scowl on his face makes me glad I'm not the one pissing him off. Even from across the room, anger sizzles in the air around him. He appears massive as he plants his feet and growls wordlessly, snarling like some wild beast at whatever Naz—Nazario Leyva—is telling him.

  I pull my blanket closer and shiver, though I'm not sure if it's because he's hot as hell when he's pissed or…okay, it's definitely because seeing Cade all fired up is hot as hell. He's six-foot, four-inches of pure muscle and rage. That probably shouldn't turn me on, but it does.

  "If I have to leave my girl to deal with this, the only place the motherfucker is going is to the hospital and then to prison." He huffs out a frustrated breath and clamps a hand down on the edge of the entertainment center. A string of curses explode from his lips. "Tell Fuentes he has twenty-four hours to call off the fucking hit or I'm coming after him."

  My eyebrows shoot upward, my eyes widening. I don't think I'll ever get used to how easily he says things like that…like it's perfectly normal to talk about some gang putting out a hit on someone else. I guess for him, it is normal. He's the guy who makes the bad guys play nice.

  "The girl and the kid belong to Carter now," he snaps. "I don't give a fuck if it is Francisco's baby. Just tell him to call it off or I'm going to blow his shit up." Cade listens for another second and then curses. "Are you fucking kidding me? He's after her too? What the hell? I'm busy for a few weeks and he thinks he owns this city?" He pushes his hair back from his forehead and rests his head against the wall, closing his eyes. A dark chuckle leaves his lips. "He's a fucking idiot. Tell him this city is mine now. He answers to me, just like the rest of you do."

  Jesus. The way he says that, I believe Los Angeles belongs to him. If I was this Fuentes person and had to face Cade, I'd probably just hand over the keys and flee for my life. He's always been sure of himself, but he's something else now. He knows he's in charge and has no qualms with letting everyone else know it too. That confidence is sexy as all hell.

  I never knew seeing him work would be so riveting. But every day, I get to watch him in action. I find it fascinating. He barks orders like he was born to do it. Even the other cops who stop by—like Roman Gregory and Luke Santiago—listen to him when he tells them what to do about this or that or the other. They all seem to respect him, even when he is cursing up a storm and threatening destruction on whatever gang isn't cooperating with his orders. Naz has stopped by a few times. I've seen him in the papers enough to know he's a dangerous man sitting on a fortune. But even he listens to Cade.

  It's been three weeks since Kaleo shot me, and Cade rarely leaves my side. The few times he has had to go out to help Roman deal with the cop who helped hurt Lillian Riley, he left Luke Santiago to babysit me. I like Luke. He's quiet and intense, but also really sweet. I especially like the way Cade kisses me whenever he leaves me with Luke. I think he's jealous, but he doesn't have any reason to be. I haven't seen anyone but him since I was a kid. I doubt that's ever going to change.

  I'm so ridiculously in love with him. He hides a lot behind jokes and smiles. I think he has for a long time, but each day, a little bit more of the real him shines through. And every day, I fall a little bit harder for the man he is now. He's even sweeter than he was when we were younger, but he's different in so many ways. Getting to explore the new facets to his personality is exciting and bittersweet at the same time. He's bossier than he was back then and says the dirtiest things.

  He's told me all about his life in Seattle and the things he had to do. I cried for him when we had that conversation. He's so damn strong and courageous. I don't know anyone else who would willingly go to the places he goes and deal with the people he does just to keep complete strangers safe. But he does it. I'm in awe of him. He still isn't convinced that he's worthy of me, but he's so wrong.

  He's a little like Grover in the storybook he used to read me…scared to turn the pages because he doesn't know what's waiting at the end. He's been running from himself for so long, he didn't realize he was running from himself. He's starting to figure it out, though. He's finally facing himself, and I think he's finally beginning to realize that the monster at the end of his book is a lot less scary than he thought it was. That he's a lot less scary than he thought.

  Bit by bit, we're both healing.

  Sometimes, I have nightmares about Kaleo, but they're never about killing him. Maybe I should feel bad that I killed another person. Maybe part of me is sad about it…but mostly I just feel relief that he's gone and can't hurt us anymore. Cade is still alive. I'm still alive. That's all that really matters.

  When the nightmares do come, they're always about losing Cade. He holds me a little tighter and whispers sweet words in my ear until I'm ready to sleep again. The nightmares rarely make an appearance twice in one night. I don't think they stand a chance against him. When I'm in his arms, my head resting on his chest, I feel peaceful. I feel safe. I feel like I'm finally home.

  It's been a long time since I felt that way.

  It's been a long time since I let myself believe I deserve to feel that way.

  I got to leave the hospital a little over a week ago, but I still have a long road ahead of me. They had to remove one of my adrenal glands, so now they have to
keep a close eye on my hormones. They're also keeping a close eye on my kidney function, but it's been decent so far. I had to stop taking the anxiety medication Dr. Jenner prescribed because of the risk of kidney problems, but I'm doing okay without it. At least I have so far.

  Cade and I are going to visit my mom and Titan next week. I'm a little afraid I'll lose it. But I need to go, and so does he. It's been a long time coming.

  Naz says something that makes Cade laugh loudly, drawing my attention back to him. He pops his eyes open and focuses on me. I watch in fascination as tension drains from him as soon as those blue-gray eyes land on me. His rigid stance loosens. His expression softens. A smile tips up the corners of his lips, those dimples popping out.

  I shiver at the sight, my eyes locked on him.

  "If he goes after her again, you better tell him to bring a shovel because it'll be his funeral. Hernandez will tear him apart and then leave pieces of his body all over this city."

  I cringe at the visual he paints.

  "Sorry," he mouths, grimacing apologetically.

  I offer him a little smile to let him knows it's okay. He's still on administrative leave, but I know this is his job. It's what he does. And he's good at it.

  We're still waiting for word on whether he's going to be charged with murder for killing the Crips who murdered my mom and Titan. I feel like we're in a holding pattern until that happens. I know what I want, and I think he wants the same thing, but he's scared he's going to go to prison and lose me all over again.

  I'm hopeful that won't happen.

  When I gave Hernandez my statement about what happened with Kaleo, I asked him point blank why he was going after Cade when Kaleo was the reason so many people had died. He told me that, if he had his way, the truth would have died with Kaleo. I'm not sure what that means, but I think he wants a reason to let this go. He doesn't want to have to charge Cade with murder.

  Maybe what Cade did was wrong, but he's spent the last decade making up for it. He's saved so many people, even when doing so almost killed him. He's fought battles and won wars that most will never know about, all so they can sleep easy. If anyone deserves happiness, he does.

  I'm starting to think maybe I do too. I will never be brave enough to do the things he does. But the day I shot Kaleo, I found a little bit of strength I didn't know I had. Even when the bullet ripped through me, I stood my ground and fought for what mattered to me. I fought for Cade.

  I faced a monster…and I won.

  I will always miss my mom and Titan. I will always grieve for them, but I know they would want me to be happy. They would want me to have a full life instead of living like a ghost. And I think—no, I know I want that for myself. I think part of me will always feel guilt over the fact that I'm still here and they aren't. I will always struggle to comprehend what happened to them. Memories of that night will always haunt me. But Cade was right. Their murders weren't our fault. What happened to my mom and my brother will never be okay. It never should be. But Cade and I can't keep punishing ourselves for it.

  I shove the blanket off my lap and climb from the couch. The healing surgical wounds on my stomach twinge in discomfort, but they don't hurt anymore. They're just an ache, something to remind me that we all have monsters to face. Sometimes, those monsters are ourselves. Other times, they're guys like Kaleo.

  In the end, the monsters always lose though. Because people like Cade make sure it stays that way.

  "Where you going?" he asks me, covering the mouthpiece on his phone.

  "Bedroom," I mumble and shoot him a reassuring smile. "I'll be right back."

  He watches me carefully for a second and then nods.

  I shuffle to the bedroom, shaking my head. He really doesn't like letting me out of his sight. I think if he could carry me everywhere like he did when I was little, he'd do it without hesitation, but I don't let him. Like I said, I found my own strength. Being with Cade makes me feel powerful, but I'm finally starting to realize I had that power the whole time.

  It's a good feeling.

  Once I make it to the bedroom, I hesitate for a split second like I always do. I keep expecting to step inside and find Kaleo's body on the floor and his blood all over the walls. But Cade had everything taken care of before I was released. The floors have been stripped and freshly waxed and the walls repainted a deep red. He even replaced all of the bedroom furniture, saying he didn't want me to have a single reminder of Kaleo left in this room.

  He hid all my posters and covered the walls in framed photographs of the two of us together as kids. We smile down from all sides of the room. Sometimes, it's just the two of us, smiling and making faces at the camera. Other times, Titan is with us. Every single memory Cade hung on the walls makes my chest ache in the best way possible.

  I hurry to the closet and pull it open, smiling when I see his clothes hanging next to mine in the small space. They're all mixed up together like they belong that way. I love seeing them there. Pushing them aside, I reach for the box I've only taken down once in the last ten years…the night Kaleo shot me.

  "Crap," I groan when my abdomen throbs painfully, reminding me that I'm not as healed as I like to think I am. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this on my own. The last thing I want to do is end up back in the hospital with a catheter tube between my legs. No part of that was comfortable or fun.

  Before I can call for Cade, he's there, wrapping an arm around my waist and gently pulling me backward until I'm flat-footed on the floor. I lean into his hard body and sigh happily, content to be in his arms.

  "You're not supposed to be reaching over your head, baby girl," he admonishes me, his voice as gentle as the kiss he presses to my temple. "You're going to hurt yourself."

  "I need that box."

  "I'll get it," he says and easily plucks the box in question from the shelf.

  "Being short is so annoying," I complain when he releases me. "Literally everything I want is over my head. Even the shower caddy is over my head."

  "Are you complaining about me washing your hair for you?"

  "Nope. Definitely not." I love having him around to take care of me. He's spoiling me rotten and I love every second of it. But still…being short sucks. Not that Cade would know since he's over a foot taller than me and never needs help reaching anything.

  He chuckles and carries the box over to the bed. Once he puts it down, he comes back for me and sweeps me up in his arms.

  "I can walk," I breathe.

  He grunts wordlessly and then gives me those dimples, letting me know he loves to carry me.

  I shut up and let him do it because I kind of love it too.

  What's not to love about feeling all those muscles working together just for me?

  He deposits me on the bed beside the box before crawling up beside me and tugging me into his arms. I cuddle up next to him and breathe him in. He smells so good. I love being completely surrounded by him like this. It's perfection.

  "What's in the box?" he says like Brad Pitt in S7ven, making me laugh.

  "Open it up, Brad Pitt," I tease him and hook my foot around the edge of the box to drag it closer to us.

  He eyes it for a moment before shrugging and pulling it open. His expression morphs from curiosity to surprise and then to some emotion I can't name.

  "Baby girl," he rasps, dumping out the contents.

  All the little gifts he gave me over the years fall into his lap. Everything he ever gave me, I kept.

  "I couldn't get rid of it," I whisper to him as he runs reverent hands over one item after another, not speaking. "Mariah tried to convince me to burn it all to forget you, but I didn't want to forget. I put it all in here because I wanted to be brave enough one day to look back and remember how happy we were together."

  "January," he whispers, his voice choked with emotion. He holds up the ring he gave me, his hand shaking. "You kept it?"

  "Of course I kept it. How could I get rid of it when it wasn't over for me? In my heart, I always bel
onged to you, Cade."

  "Fuck," he breathes, staring down at the ring like it might disappear if he takes his eyes off it. "When I put a ring on your finger next time, it's forever, baby girl. I hope you know that." He says this like it's a warning, but it sounds more like heaven to me.

  "It better be forever," I say with a little laugh, snuggling deeper into him. "You're not ever getting rid of me, Michael Ian Kincaid. If you try to leave me again, I'll just follow you."

  He closes his hand around the Claddagh ring and then tilts my chin up so I'm staring into his eyes. The intensity burning there leaves me breathless. "I'm not ever fucking leaving you again, January. If they charge me with the murders, I'll empty my trust fund fighting to stay with you." He grabs my hand and slides the ring back onto my finger where it belongs. Satisfaction flares in his eyes, turning them my favorite dark gray color as he examines the ring on my finger. It still fits as perfectly as it did when he first slipped it on my hand. "I'm going to put a bigger ring on your finger soon. I'm not going to ask you to marry me though. I didn't back then and I won't now. Not giving you a chance to say no. You're mine and I'm keeping you."

  "I'm keeping you too," I tell him, smiling through watery eyes. "And I would never say no to you. You're my Grover."

  His lips curve into a half-smile. He shakes his head at me.

  "I'm serious. You think you're scary, but you're not. Not to me." I pluck the last item out of his lap before holding it out to him.

  He glances from my face to the item in my hand and then that grin widens until he's smiling so big those dimples appear. "I can't believe you still have this," he says, opening The Monster at the End of This Book and flipping through the dog-eared pages. "It's almost as old as you are. You had me read it to you so often before you learned to read. I'm surprised it didn't fall apart."

  "I have a confession to make," I whisper as his eyes scan across each page. "I'd memorized the book before I ever even met you, but I loved it when you'd hold my hand and promise not to let the monster get me, so I pretended not to know the words just so you would keep reading it to me."