Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  “Nikki, what is wrong with you?” Lillith smacked her again.

  Nikki set her hand over her heart. “I’m just a speaker of the truth. And yes, for the record, I am very, very jealous of all the orgasms. I mean, not that I want Broderick to be the one giving them to me. That would be kind of gross and wrong.”

  Nikki sent me a wink. “You know, considering we’re best friends and all. I’m just envious of the sheer number of them.”

  She feigned a sad shake of her head. “It’s a little greedy if you ask me. No one person needs that many orgasms.”

  “Oh, believe me, I need them all.” Lillith was both fighting a grin and the redness on her cheeks when she said it, once again looking behind her to the construction site.

  It was a large section of land cordoned off by a chain-link fence, the frame of a massive building just starting to take form.

  I smiled at her dreamy look. It was impossible not to like them. They seemed polar opposites; yet, I was unable to imagine one without the other.

  Lillith turned back to me almost reluctantly. “We’d better get out of your way so you can get back to work, but we wanted to stop in and introduce ourselves. Honestly, if you need anything, let us know.”

  “I’m glad you did, and I definitely will.”

  “Oh.” Nikki’s eyes lit up. “It’s Friday!”

  My brow rose in question.

  She looked at me as if it should be obvious. “Um . . . hello? Friday Funday? That means you totally have to come out with us tonight.”

  “Really?”

  Okay, maybe I was a little overenthusiastic. But I missed Macy like crazy and the truth was, I needed that—companionship and friendship. The true kind. The feeling of belonging when the last couple of days had made me feel as if I’d stepped out of bounds, directly into a place I knew so intimately but still so far removed.

  Lillith nodded. “Oh, good idea.”

  “Of course it’s a good idea,” Nikki shot back.

  Lillith widened her eyes at me. “For the record, if you say no, chances are Nikki will just come drag you out anyway. It’s best to just concede and go along for the ride. God knows, I do.” It was all soft, playful affection.

  “At least you know what is good for you,” Nikki tossed at her before she grabbed me by the wrist and shook my arm around. “Come with us. Please! I already feel like I know you, and . . . well, I think that you might be the missing three in our amigo. You complete us.”

  With both index fingers, she drew a heart in the air.

  “See?” Lillith asked. “Just go with the crazy.”

  I grinned. I was totally going with the crazy. Forget the fears. It’d been eleven years. Who would even recognize me? And if they did, why would they even still care?

  A shiver trembled through me.

  What if they did?

  Shaking it off, I smiled. I could do this. I wanted to do this. “That sounds like fun. Where should I meet you and at what time?”

  Nikki slung her arm around my shoulder, and I walked with them toward the entrance. “Eight at Olive’s. It’s on the corner of Macaber and 5th.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you know this place well?”

  Lillith widened telling eyes. “That’s because Ollie owns it. This one can’t stay away.”

  Nikki sighed dramatically. “Ollie. Hottest man in all the land. Friend-zoner extraordinaire. But one day, I will make him see what he’s missing.”

  “Ah, things are beginning to make sense now,” I said.

  Nikki feigned sadness with the grim shake of her head. “No, Rynna, men make absolutely no sense whatsoever. There is no sense to be found.”

  I laughed. God, I really liked them.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” I said.

  Lillith pushed open the glass door. It was smudged with its own layer of greasy dust, and the white logo on the front claiming Pepper’s Pies was barely visible. Still, I could read it as if I’d drawn it myself. It was a shaker tipped on its side, flecks of pepper pouring over a tumble of pot pies and sweet pies and pizzas.

  Gramma’s offerings had always been unique and perfectly peculiar.

  Just like the woman behind it.

  I was washed with another wave of warmth, and I couldn’t help but think I was supposed to return. That no matter what the past held, this was where I had always belonged.

  We stepped out into the hot Alabama summer day, and I blinked against the sudden glare of sunlight and the rush of sticky humidity.

  Clouds threatened in the distance, building in the sultry heat.

  Lillith hummed with a near imperceptible bounce on her toes. Her attention locked on the small group of men across the street, who’d gathered in a circle just inside the chain-link fence.

  Most of them were in work clothes: jeans and long-sleeved shirts and boots. Though a single man with his back to us wore a black suit and a yellow hard hat.

  Nikki leaned in and mock-whispered in my ear, “Suit-guy would be the fiancé, Broderick Wolfe. You know, the one who constantly has this one’s panties on fire. Look at her . . . she can hardly contain herself.”

  I bit back laughter, my whisper just as faked. “How long until she goes running over there?”

  “Oh, I’d say about two point five seconds.”

  Lillith swatted at my arm, and God, for the first time since I’d returned, I felt truly, completely as if I were home.

  “Stop it, you two. Like I don’t hear you over there.”

  We both laughed. Nikki dropped her arm and moved to face me, pulling her cell phone from where it was tucked in her back pocket. “What’s your number in case you get lost?” she said with a grin hugging her mouth as she dipped her head to look down. Her fingers were poised to input my number.

  I almost got the entire thing out before my mouth went dry and the numbers came to a sluggish, sticky halt, my tongue unable to form a sound.

  The man standing next to Broderick had turned around and was looking in our direction.

  The smile slid right off his gorgeous face when he saw me staring at him. But somehow, the transformation into the hard scowl was just as mesmerizing.

  Just as hypnotic.

  Maybe more so.

  Because I felt weightless beneath his glare.

  Fluttery and uneasy.

  Mesmerized.

  Those sage eyes were so hard and intense. Capturing me. Holding me hostage. So dark they should have held the power to conceal the fire that raged in the depths, scored like markers in his spirit.

  But I saw it. Felt it where it stuck in the heated, stagnant air.

  The pain buried underneath.

  Nikki lifted her head in question, her fingers ready for the last two numbers. “Hello?”

  Snapping out of it, I cleared my throat. “Oh . . . um, sorry, six-two.”

  “Got it,” she said before she gave me a salute and backed away. “Eight o’clock, my friend. Don’t make me hunt you down. You know I will.”

  I tore my attention from the man pinning me to the spot from the other side of the street. His hold was just as heavy as if he were right in front of me, physically restraining me with those massive hands.

  “I’ll be there,” I told her.

  “You’d better be.” She winked.

  Lillith squeezed my hand gently before she backed away to cross the street. “It was great to finally meet you, Rynna. This is going to be good. I can just feel it. I’m so glad we took the chance and stopped in.”

  She said it without realizing the impact her words had on me. The way they flooded me with warmth and hope. The way they nudged the aspirations at the root of who I was, freeing them from where they’d been trapped deep inside.

  My gaze roamed, drawn back to the man who hadn’t moved an inch. Hostility rippled off him like heat waves.

  I had no idea why I felt it. Compelled. Driven toward a man that seemed so rigid, so dangerous to my sanity.

  But I felt it. He needed someone to revive his faith
just as desperately as I did.

  Because looking at him?

  I suddenly knew he had none of it. That something had gone dim inside him.

  That was the thing about chances.

  We didn’t know their outcomes.

  If we’d succeed or if we’d fail.

  It didn’t matter.

  I had to take a chance on him.

  6

  Rex

  “You sure you want to be here tonight?” I asked Ollie. Guilt was threatening to consume me. Suck me down. Take me under.

  I fought it, trying to be strong, because it wasn’t fucking right for me to be the one falling apart.

  Ollie, Kale, and I were in the back office at Olive’s where it was quiet. Private. The elevated voices from the throng of people out front were dulled, barely seeping through the walls, the evidence of the live band little more than a throb that vibrated the floors.

  Ollie roughed a tattooed hand over his mouth like that single act might hold the power to erase the burden. A low, humorless chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Doesn’t make much of a difference where we’re at, now, does it? Fuckin’ day will follow us, anyway.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. Doubted there was a statement I agreed with more. This fucking date haunted us no matter where we went. No matter how much time had passed. There was no outrunning it.

  Kale rocked back in the office chair where he sat at Ollie’s desk. He had spun the chair around so he could face us, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his fingers threaded at the back of his head. “Twelve years. Twelve years, and it doesn’t get any easier, does it?”

  Ollie dropped his head back on the wall he rested against and squeezed his eyes closed. “Twelve years.” Ollie’s voice was nothing but a moan, close to tears. “Shut my eyes and, I swear to God, it feels like yesterday.”

  Ollie was a big, burly asshole, who was covered in tats, and if you didn’t know him, he was intimidating as fuck. I’d seen grown men cross the street when he was heading their direction.

  He’d bought Olive’s back when it was little more than a dive, when the place was in shambles and going under. I’d come along beside him, doing the physical labor to restore the interior. But it was his vision that made it the most popular bar in Gingham Lakes.

  “And a fucking century at the same damned time,” I said, shifting on the file cabinet I was leaning on.

  “I just . . .” Kale trailed off, unable to say the things every single one of us were thinking.

  That it was too late.

  That there was no chance.

  There was no hope.

  Even when it felt impossible to give it up.

  Kale had always been the one who carried us through. He was an ER doctor over at the local hospital. He worked his ass off and usually did it with a smile on his face.

  He was the kind of guy who would walk through hot coals for a friend. Hell, he’d stand right in the middle of the flames if it meant he could help a man out. Make your load lighter. The guy carried around the weight of the world, thinking it was his duty to offer relief.

  Kale, Ollie, and I? We’d been through hell together. Each of us were so different, sometimes I wondered if we would have grown apart if it hadn’t happened. Had to wonder if that fateful day had forged something indestructible between us. A bond and a burden that never should have been shaped.

  A blessing given just the same as the curse.

  Ollie groaned then fiercely shook his head, like he was shaking off the memories, the horror, before he strode across the small area and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. He poured it across the shot glasses and passed one to me and Kale.

  He lifted his in the air. “To Sydney. We’ll never forget.”

  I lifted mine, Kale did the same, the three glasses clinking in the middle. “We’ll never forget.”

  I tossed back my shot, the burn of it sliding down my throat and filling my stomach with flames.

  No.

  There was no chance I would ever forget.

  Ten minutes later, Kale and I had moved out into the front of the bar. I grabbed our regular table, which was tucked in the back, while Kale went to grab us drinks.

  A blur of voices echoed off the red brick walls of the bottom floor. Olive’s was all the rage in Gingham Lakes. Trendy and popular and packed.

  A place I probably wouldn’t step foot in if it weren’t for the fact Ollie was the owner.

  The din was a mind-numbing thrum that dulled the senses in the same way the dimmed, muted lights hanging from the ceiling somehow slowed the atmosphere, the band playing tonight super mellow and adding to the laid-back vibe.

  Made me feel like I was right in the middle of everything without setting foot in the throng, this impression that the night might go on forever and it was all gonna end in the blink of an eye.

  Raucous laughter and shouting seeped down from the upstairs area that housed a bunch of pool tables and led to the huge balcony that overlooked the river.

  Tonight was no different than most nights at Olive’s. The bar was packed, crawling with people out seeking a good time. A few minutes to cast aside their worries and cares.

  I fought the urge brimming in my gut to pack it up and head home.

  Truth was, I hated the idea of that, too. I knew my daughter was undoubtedly curled up on the couch next to my mom, who was all too happy to have her spend the night. Frankie Fridays, as she liked to call them, were their standing sleepover date.

  If I showed up, Mom would shove me right back out her door. The woman was constantly nagging me to get out more. Insisting I needed time to “find myself” and figure out just how it was I was going to live my life.

  She just had no clue I didn’t need this bullshit. I had zero interest in the women who were watching the men who crawled the bar like hawks and the men who were watching them like prey.

  That fucking game they always liked to play.

  So, week after week, I sat back and pretended like I wasn’t even there. Oblivious to it all.

  I’d managed it for years. Until tonight. All that self-control fled the second the door swung open.

  Twilight billowed in and the goddamned air was sucked from the room.

  For fuck’s sake.

  Was she stalking me?

  There had to be no other explanation. The woman kept popping up everywhere. Invading my space. Conjuring thoughts I couldn’t entertain.

  But there she was.

  Again.

  She walked right through the door of Olive’s. Her presence stampeded out in front of her. Consuming everything.

  Agitation lit me up, singeing my skin.

  Tonight, she looked like she’d just stepped off the runway with those long, long legs encased in a tight pair of black pants and super high heels. Chestnut hair, which was normally all mussed and heaped on her head, swished around her like the silky calm of a midnight river.

  Fuck. Me.

  I didn’t know if I liked her better like this or the total mess she normally was, the way she’d been earlier this afternoon when she’d stopped me in my tracks when I was in the middle of giving my crew instruction in front of Broderick Wolfe. No doubt, I looked like some kind of blundering idiot who couldn’t find words.

  Tongue-tied.

  That was because I was too busy letting my dick do the talking, the traitor perking up at the sight of her standing outside her grandma’s run-down, closed-up diner that had seen far better days.

  Had taken Broderick calling me on it, all while wearing a knowing smirk on his face, before I’d snapped out of my stupor and had gotten back to the meeting.

  Guessed I should have expected trouble the second I’d seen her outside Pepper’s Pies with Nikki and Lillith.

  I would have been right.

  Her face split into a grin when her sight landed on the two of them. They were sitting at the bar, drinking their frilly drinks and chatting like they did just about every Friday night.

  From behind me, a ha
nd suddenly clamped down on my shoulder.

  I jumped like some kind of pussy.

  Just fucking awesome.

  Kale laughed. “Dude, why so jumpy?” He set a fresh beer in front of me and pulled out a chair. By the time he sat, he was all grins and amusement.

  That was just Kale’s way. He had the ability to find the good in the moment, something light and easy and fun, even on a day like today.

  “Did you start shit with one of those big fuckers and now you’re scared?” He wasn’t so discreet when he pointed at a couple of guys who looked like they’d probably rolled up on bikes and had rap sheets a few miles long. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to step in and protect you.”

  Leave it to Kale.

  But that sure as hell wasn’t what had me on edge.

  I shifted a bit so Rynna was off to my side and not directly in front of me, situating myself in a way that let me pretend she wasn’t there.

  Pretended I couldn’t feel the heat radiating from that tight body.

  Pretended that feeling didn’t exist. The one that left me restless.

  Edgy.

  Hungry for something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  I shot him a glare. “You wish, asshole. If anyone needs protecting, it’s you, standing around looking like a pretty boy. You’re just begging to get your ass kicked.”

  He cracked up.

  “Hey, someone wants to kick my ass? It’s only because they wish they were me. All the ladies love me.”

  He smirked, slinging back a gulp of the dark liquid dancing in the rocks glass he clutched in his hand. Kale was the cockiest asshole around. It was a total mindfuck he still managed to have the biggest heart of them all.

  Sitting there, people had to think he’d stumbled to the wrong table. There I was, looking like I belonged with the guys he was just referring to while he was all sharp angles and crisp lines, clean-shaven, his blond hair slicked back, and his button-up and pants perfectly pressed.

  “Take it you’re not on call this weekend?”

  He rocked back with a big, satisfied sigh. “Nope. I’ve got the whole weekend off. Don’t have to be back until Sunday night. It’s like a goddamned Christmas miracle right smack dab in the middle of summer.” He hefted a shoulder. “Besides, figured Ollie might need me, too, so I asked for it off. Somehow it was approved.”