Fighting Back (Mercy's Angels)

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Fighting Back (Mercy's Angels) Page 7

by Kirsty Dallas


  “I have to go by and check on her,” I murmured, my thoughts caught between wanting to whisk Rebecca away to safety and wanting to see that fiery spark back in her eye, that fiercely independent and stubborn spirit that was so true to her.

  “She’s not there.” Mercy sighed interrupting my thoughts. Before I had a chance to become enraged, Mercy answered, “She’s with Jax and Ella. They got home this morning. When Jax called from the airport, I had just found Rebecca’s letter. I told him what had happened while they were gone, and he took Ella straight to Rebecca’s house. He called me a little while ago. Rebecca is at their place now.” The pained look on her face physically hurt me. Dave held her a little closer, obviously sensing she was upset. “She broke down on the doorstep. Apparently she couldn’t even open the front door.”

  Picturing Rebecca in front of her house, broken, afraid and alone pissed me off. She shouldn’t have gone alone, she knows that she has friends that are willing to help her through this.

  “Fuck,” I growled. I didn’t know how to fix this, I didn’t know how to help Rebecca and it was killing me.

  “Just be there for her, Charlie. She needs to talk to someone about this, and until then, all we can do is be there for her. She needs your strength right now, not your anger and frustration over a situation that is out of your control.” Mercy knew me well. “She wants to go to work so Ella is going to take her in tomorrow. At least there, she will be surrounded by familiar people, and it will make her feel safe. Working again will also help her regain some sense of that lost freedom.” Dave gave Mercy a kiss on the top of her head, then his gaze returned to mine.

  “Maybe we can convince her to join your self-defense class at the shelter?” he suggested. I gave him a short stiff nod. “Rebecca is a strong woman—she’s a fighter—she was able to fight off her attacker, but she could benefit from learning more about defending herself.” I knew Dave was trying to help me find an outlet for my feeling of futility, and strangely enough, it helped. I nodded again with a little more determination. Helping Rebecca learn to defend herself was something I could do.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, running a hand over my tired face. Mercy broke free from Dave’s embrace and moved towards me, wrapping her arms around my waist. I held her tightly. She was so little, almost as small as Ella. They were like little dolls.

  “No thank you necessary. You staying? I’m cooking lasagna.” I thought about it for a moment. A home cooked meal was appealing but one look at Dave’s don’t-you-dare stare made me chuckle. He had only been away for a little over a week, but obviously they had lost time to make up for.

  “No, I hit it pretty hard at the gym. I’m just going to go home and crash.” I backed away from Mercy and grinned. “You could always pack away some left overs for me though, I could pick them up from the shelter tomorrow.” She beamed at me, the kind of smile that a mother reserved for her children, and it warmed my heart in seconds.

  “I was going to make extra for Jax and Ella. God forbid they try and cook something on their own. They’d burn their house down. You can half it with them.” I rubbed my stomach that was already growling in anticipation.

  “Well, don’t forget Jax and Ella have Mary packing them away meals, too. I’ve got no one.”

  I gave Mercy a quick kiss on the forehead. Dave shook his head, a secret grin playing at the corners of his mouth. I nodded my thanks once again and left. I only hoped whatever Dave had planned for Mercy took place somewhere other than the kitchen. If they contaminated the kitchen like that, I would never eat anything from it again. Who was I kidding? Mercy’s lasagna was legendary, they could screw around on top of it and I would most likely still eat it.

  Chapter 7

  Rebecca

  I could hear Ella grumbling at Jax in the kitchen. I smiled, remembering just how nasty that little tiger’s tongue could get in the mornings—she was not a morning person. I rolled to my side and watched the sun slice through the blinds, allowing sharp beams of light into the otherwise dark room. For the last few nights my sleep had been plagued with nightmares. It was always the same dream: I wake up foggy from a deep sleep only to find my body pinned down. Angry eyes stare down at me before hands began ripping at my clothing and violating my body. But for the last couple of nights, the dream has progressed and rather than simply waking the moment I become trapped as my attacker defiles me with his hands, I dream about his body entering mine forcefully. The feeling of complete and utter helplessness fills me and I wake up kicking and screaming like a wild banshee. I was so embarrassed last night when poor Ella stood by my side looking down at me with understanding in those dark brown eyes of hers. Jax stood by warily, while Ella held me as I unleashed another violent torrent of tears. Hours later, I still feel the lingering fear and horror from my nightmare. My eyes felt swollen and puffy from crying. I needed to escape this fear. I felt trapped in a place where my heart constantly thumped with trepidation. Where I felt the overwhelming need to look over my shoulder every five minutes. This type of fear made me feel tethered to others, as if I could no longer survive on my own. My independence was gone, replaced with a deep-seated need for others. Chasing closely on the heels of that fear was anger. Anger I could deal with though, fear was something I was completely unaccustomed to. Slipping from the bed, I made my way into the bathroom and glanced in the mirror, taking in my aging bruises. They were still distinct enough that makeup would not hide them, but not so ugly that it looked as though my face had gone a round with Mike Tyson. My ribs still ached, but at least it no longer hurt to breathe.

  After a scalding hot shower, I stared at my clothes. Ella, beautiful, thoughtful Ella had packed all of my favorite dresses and skirts, my gorgeous pumps, all of my makeup and hair accessories. She thought of everything. My clothes have always been like armor for me. When I wore them, I felt invincible—I was strong, defiant, and independent. They no longer felt comfortable though. Maybe they made me stand out and were why I had been attacked. Hell, they certainly had not protected me. Dressing like a fifties pin-up girl seemed ridiculous now, and I began to see what everyone else saw when they looked at me: a fraud. I still had some of the clothes Charlie had packed, and amongst the sweats and boring shirts, I found a pair of jeans, and pulled them on. I marveled at how they looked; it had been over five years since I last wore them. I found a black, form fitting, modest button down top and slipped into the pair of ballet flats that I’ve been wearing for the last week. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and applied a minimal amount of makeup—just enough to help cover the worst of the beating I endured, on the outside anyway. A few deep breaths later, my shoulders back, head held high, I left the bedroom.

  “Screw you, asshat,” I heard Ella grumble as I reached the entry to the kitchen.

  Jax laughed out loud. “Angel, you know if you talk to me like that I’m just gonna throw you over my shoulder, march you straight back upstairs where I will make you scream again.”

  As I walked in, I caught the heated stare Ella was giving Jax, and the wanton desire on the big man’s face as he gazed back at her. Jax was wearing nothing but a pair of track pants, sitting dangerously low on his hips, and it took every ounce of self-preservation not to follow the hard, perfect washboard abs down to the magic V that led into the waistband of his pants. The man was scorching hot perfection, but he didn’t make my heart race like Charlie. He didn’t make my mind turn to slush and my knees go cliché weak at the mere sight of him.

  I cleared my throat. “Do you two need me to clear the room?” I offered.

  Ella grinned. “No, because he’s not getting any, even if he begged me for it.” She continued to stare daggers at Jax, who just laughed.

  I snorted. “Yeah right, because you are so good at keeping your hands off of him.” Jax handed me a mug of coffee and I sighed. Caffeine, the elixir of the gods. I pulled out a chair and sat by Ella, who was staring holes through me now.

  “What?” I asked, the mug pausing its ascent to my lips.


  “What are you wearing?” she asked.

  I glanced down at my clothes. “I can’t exactly go to work in sweats,” I said, avoiding the real question.

  Ella suddenly looked worried, her little smile turned into a concerned frown. “Did I grab the wrong stuff?”

  I automatically reached out and took her hand. “No, you grabbed my entire wardrobe of personal favorites, and I’m very grateful. I just didn’t feel like wearing those clothes today.”

  There was a long awkward pause as Jax and Ella stared at me, as if they were trying to read between the lines, which I had no doubt they were both doing easily.

  “Where’s my friend Rebecca and what the fuck did you do to her?” Ella broke the silence.

  I couldn’t stop my small grin. “Screw you,” I muttered.

  “She looks fine, Angel, leave her alone.”

  Ella’s eyes cut through the air to land on her giant piece of man candy. “Of course she looks fine, she looks great! I just meant she looks different.”

  Jax placed a gentle kiss to the top of Ella’s head and I’ll be damned if the girl didn’t turn into a pile of goo right before me. “We know what you meant. I’m going to grab a quick shower then we’ll head into town.” Ella watched Jax move to the doorway of the kitchen.

  “You’re welcome to come help me!” Jax called out.

  Ella shook her head. “Not until I get my kitten!”

  “Not happening, Angel. I’m allergic to cats.”

  “Bullshit,” Ella muttered, watching Jax climb the stairs to their loft.

  “You want a cat?” I asked. Ella didn’t seem like a cat person to me. She looked more like a dog person, an angry looking Rottweiler person to be precise.

  “Yes, I want a cat, and Jax won’t let me have one.”

  I chuckled. I couldn’t imagine Jax not giving Ella something she wanted. That man would give her the moon if he could. I paused and found my heart sinking a little at the overwhelming love this home contained. Jax and Ella’s love for each other was the kind of love that poets wrote sonnets about and musicians sang about—unbreakable devotion—and I wanted it. Someone who adored me exactly as I was, someone who didn’t question my motives for dressing a particular way, someone who I could feel safe with. Sickly tangled with that desire was the fear of finding that someone, only to lose him, just like I lost my family. But, glancing around Jax and Ella’s home, a large piece of me thought that taking the risk might just be worth it. My thoughts lingered to Charlie, the only man whom ever ensnared my heart and made me think of forever. I haven’t seen Charlie since the night of Jenny’s phone call back at Mercy’s. I know he calls every night to check on me though and it makes my heart both flutter with excitement and sink with the gravity of the situation. I was avoiding him because in Charlie, I would only find heartache. I couldn’t deal with a broken heart right now, there is far too much of me that needs fixing as it is.

  “Are you okay?” Ella’s nervous voice pulled me from my thoughts. She looked worried again. Ella’s life has been full of so much worry that I refused to burden her with my problems.

  “Of course I am. I’m a little tired, but once this caffeine enters my blood stream I will pep right up. I’ve actually considered inserting an IV line to shoot caffeine straight in my veins. I wonder if that’s possible.” I wondered out loud. Ella didn’t react at my attempt to make her smile. Usually at this point she would say something smart like, “how about I grind you some beans and you can try snorting them.”

  “You know, it’s okay to not be okay. You are entitled to feel a little self-pity and a healthy dose of fear. It’s alright to be afraid, I should know.” Ever the wise Ella, at all of twenty-three years of age.

  I sighed. “I am afraid, Ella. So scared I’m amazed I haven’t locked myself away in a self-imposed padded cell where no one can touch me ever again. I understand what I am feeling is warranted, I just don’t understand how to fix it. I’m just a little banged up right now, but not completely broken.”

  She nodded solemnly. “You should talk to Dave. He helped both me and Jax.” She took a sip from her own coffee. “And Charlie too, for that matter,” she added as an afterthought.

  “What did Charlie need Dave’s help with?” I asked, suddenly curious. Charlie was a goof, a happy, crazy, whorish goof. I couldn’t imagine him needing a psychiatrist for anything.

  Ella took her time in answering, obviously not wanting to betray Charlie’s confidence in saying too much. “Charlie might come across as easy going and carefree, but, like all of us, he has had his own shit to deal with. From what I’ve learned, his family is bonkers, like obsessive, clearly crazy, manic, borderline-cult-devout fucked up.” I almost snorted my coffee across the table at Ella’s eloquent description of Charlie’s family. I’ve heard that they were a bit weird, but Ella put a whole new perspective on them. “Did he ever tell you why he quit fighting?”

  My eyebrows raise in surprise. “I assumed he still fought. He spends most of his spare time at Lee’s Gym, doesn’t he?” I shrugged.

  Ella shook her head. “He still trains, works out and spars with the other fighters, but he doesn’t fight in the ring anymore.”

  I waited for her to explain why, but it appeared that she wasn’t going to. I bristled at the fact that Ella seemed to know Charlie better than me. It’s not like I was supposed to know everything about him. One night spent rolling around under the sheets with him certainly didn’t give me any insight into the real heart of the man.

  “Mercy said Charlie has been a big help to you, that he came the night you were attacked and he was the only who you would talk to.” Ella’s statement was almost a question.

  No matter how hard I tried to deny my attraction to Charlie, Ella knew the truth of the matter. My thoughts flittered back to that night and I almost winced under the onslaught of the images that flashed through my mind. I pushed the ugly memories away, locked them down tight in the back of my mind and managed a nonchalant shrug.

  “Mercy probably doesn’t realize her call dragged Charlie from between the legs of his latest conquest.” It was Ella’s turn to wince, she didn’t hide her reaction though. She pulled her long dark hair away from her face and tied it into a messy bun on the top of her head. She was wearing that beautiful long hair back more often now, showing off the stunning, petite features of her pale smooth face. Her eyes, accented with her Asian ancestry, looked at me with seriousness. The scar that sat dangerously close to her right eye was faint though noticeable but it certainly didn’t detract from her beauty. My hand unconsciously touched the small scar I now had on one pale eyebrow.

  “Like I said, Charlie has issues,” Ella worried her bottom lip between her teeth before she continued, “and it’s no secret that Jax had his own issues that had him seeking out every woman in this town.” For a split second her eyes flared with irritation, but then it was gone. “But Jax loves me and once I allowed him in, his heart became mine and vice versa. Charlie cares about you, Rebecca, a hell of a lot. He’s told me so. But if you don’t let him in, you’ll never truly realize just how much he feels for you. I know that you think you are Miss Independent Ice Queen of the Decade, but I know you aren’t. I know you want what any single girl with a heart wants: someone to care about you, to fuss over you, and you want to give that love back just as much. Those other women Charlie was with were just a distraction. I’m not saying they were a good distraction or that it was healthy, but it wasn’t love. In fact, it was a hell of a long way from even happiness for him.” Jax stomped down the stairs and Ella stood up, taking our coffee mugs to the sink where she promptly rinsed them out.

  “Ready?” asked Jax as he entered the kitchen and planted a teasing kiss to the nape of Ella’s neck. The exact same spot on my neck tingled, the thought of Charlie kissing me that way filled my body with warmth.

  Ella’s words roamed around in my mind, making me feel more confused than ever. How could someone, someone who apparently cared so much about
another person, so callously use other women? Could I risk letting Charlie in? Could I risk losing him, or losing a chance at love? My head was in such a cloud of fear and uncertainty right now that I wasn’t sure I could open myself to such a chance.

  Chapter 8

  Charlie

  Jax was keeping a close eye on Rebecca, and I knew I could trust him to keep her safe. Even so, I haven’t seen her in over two weeks and it was beginning to drive me insane. I was out of my mind with worry, and I was irritable and pissed off for no good reason. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve turned my truck in the direction of Bouquets, only to chicken out at the last minute. I didn’t want to push Rebecca, I wanted to give her space. But at the same time, I wanted to gather her in my arms and steal her away where no one else could touch her. How fucked up was that? There were still no leads on Rebecca’s attacker and his parting threat was still lingering in the air, so no one was comfortable leaving the women to their own devices; therefore, Jax had become a hovering pain in their asses. Dylan and Braiden Montgomery have been swamped since opening their second office in Claymont, but between the two of them they were still looking into Rebecca’s attack. According to witness statements, no one heard or saw anything out of the ordinary. In the police report they found, there had been no fingerprints left at the scene. All we had to go on was Rebecca’s crazy date with Luke Hollywell, who had a solid alibi. A combination of frustration—about a case that was seemingly going nowhere and not seeing Rebecca in what felt like forever—was playing havoc with my blazing, inner fury. Giving oxygen to those flames of anger was the son-of-a-bitch Hollywell, who had the nerve to walk through the doors of Lee’s Gym this afternoon. Apparently he had been kicked out of his own gym and was looking for a new training ground. In a moment of uncontrollable rage, I pinned him against the wall, prepared to pound my fist into his face. The General and Corey had to pull me off of him. Instead of tossing the insignificant piece of shit out on the street, the General saw it as an opportunity to teach us both a lesson. We had a problem with each other and it needed to be dealt with. The General only dealt with these kinds of problems one way: inside the ring. He wanted us to fight, get it out of our system, and move on. There was a possibility that this fucker had attacked Rebecca, had attempted to rape her. If it’s proved that he’s Rebecca’s attacker, there would be no moving on. If I was put in a ring with him, there’s a damn good chance I’d kill him. The General didn’t tolerate fighting on the street, so his answer was to keep it in the ring. In a moment of red hot fury, I accepted the challenge. I was going to fight Luke Hollywell in two weeks. I didn’t see it ending well.

 

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