Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  But he might as well have been.

  He rested a hand on the door above my head, his face dipping toward mine, his words a breathy grunt at my ear. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to me, Rynna?”

  Lust and confusion trembled through my bones, this man pushing me away and then drawing me closer.

  I thought maybe neither of us could ignore it.

  The overpowering attraction.

  Because the fever in my veins ignited a fire in my belly.

  Torrid.

  Blistering.

  No words would form on my tongue.

  “Tell me, Rynna. What do you want with us?” he murmured, low and rough. “Because I don’t have anything to offer you, and I won’t let you take anything else from us.”

  I attempted to process what he said, what he meant.

  But I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t see. Could feel nothing but the heat radiating between us.

  Wave after blinding wave.

  I gasped a breath, and he inched closer, a single knee wedging between my legs. He planted both hands on the door above my head.

  Caging me in.

  I felt it when he gave, the strangled sound that left him on a groan when he pressed against me.

  The man was so hard.

  So big.

  So overwhelming.

  That bottled heat reached a boiling point. Desire throbbed, lighting up between my thighs.

  “Oh . . . God.” I whimpered when he rubbed his cock against my hip.

  A desperate sound rumbled through the strength of his chest.

  A hand was suddenly on my jaw, thumb under my chin, tipping my face up to meet the ferocity in his gaze.

  Rage and restraint and desire. I couldn’t decipher what was happening. The push and the pull. The hatred and the need.

  I could barely speak. “I . . . I thought maybe you could use a friend.”

  “Told you I already have all the friends I need.”

  Frustration bled free, my words a quieted plea. “Fine, Rex. You don’t need any more friends, but maybe I do. And maybe, just maybe, I don’t want to ignore this.”

  My hand curled in his shirt. The beat of his heart was wild beneath my hold, the energy severe.

  A brilliant, neon tether that burned between us.

  A live wire.

  Electric.

  His jaw clenched, and he rocked against my thigh. His fingers sank into my sides, as if he didn’t know whether to pull me closer or force me away. “This is wrong, Rynna. You can’t do this to me.”

  “Do what?” I whispered.

  “Make me want you.”

  “Why?”

  Pain wrenched his face.

  I struggled for the words, finally forcing them into the dense air. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You think I don’t see it? That you’ve been hurt enough?”

  His thick throat bobbed. “You don’t know me, Rynna.”

  “And that’s why I’m here. Because I want to.”

  Regret seized his expression, and he peeled himself away, putting space between us. “I can’t.”

  My spirit coiled in rejection, and those old insecurities flared. Vying for dominance. I drove them back, refusing their chains. “Because you’re afraid or because you don’t want me?”

  Releasing a jolt of bitter laughter, he raked both hands over his face. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  “You can tell me, Rex.”

  He shook his head. “You should go home. It’s getting late.”

  Disappointment gusted through me. Heavy and oppressive. “Maybe you’re just a coward.”

  He flinched, and I turned away and pulled open the door. I started to step out when his voice hit me from behind.

  “You know what it feels like to be left behind, Rynna?” There was a plea behind it.

  I slowly turned back to look at him.

  His hands were in his jean pockets, surrender on his face, begging me to grasp something he wouldn’t allow me to see.

  I swallowed down everything I wanted to say and instead gave a slow nod of understanding.

  Then I stepped out and quietly latched the door shut behind me.

  The second I stepped outside, I was swamped with the clear memories of it. Because all too well, I knew the feeling of being left behind.

  Rynna – Five Years Old

  Cold gusts of wind whipped through the playground. Laughter floated on its wings from where groups of children ran through the fields, playing in their heavy winter coats.

  My head was drooped between my shoulders, my hands close to freezing where I had them wrapped around the metal chains. The tips of my toes barely touched the scooped out dirt, and I dug them in, slowly rocking myself on the swing.

  I glanced up as a group of girls raced by.

  Laughing.

  Giggling.

  My chest felt funny and my tummy hurt.

  I looked up when a shadow suddenly blocked the sun.

  A smile wanted to climb to my mouth, but I didn’t know how to make it shine.

  “Corinne Paisley,” my grandmother said so softly. She knelt down in front of me and covered my freezing hands.

  “Gramma.”

  “Why aren’t you playin’, child?”

  “They don’t like me.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean, they don’t like you? You got the invitation. That means the birthday girl wanted you here.”

  I quieted my voice. “They said I’m too slow.”

  My grandmother huffed. “Too slow? You’re the fastest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I shook my head and clung tighter to the chains. “No, Gramma.”

  My grandmother brushed her knuckles down my cheek, hooked her index finger under my chin, and forced me to look in her knowing eyes. “Why do you say that?”

  That feeling in my tummy was back. It hurt and made me feel like I might throw up. “I couldn’t catch her, Gramma. I couldn’t catch Mama. I ran so fast . . . but I couldn’t catch her.”

  My grandmother stood and stretched out her hand. “Come on, child. Let’s go home.”

  10

  Rex

  I jerked up to sitting. Darkness played against the walls, my bedroom lit with the faintest hue of the moon streaming in through the crack in the curtains. I blinked away the edge of sleep I’d been riding, shaking off the nightmare that drenched my skin with sweat, glancing at the clock that told me it was just passed three a.m. on Monday morning.

  This time . . . this time, it wasn’t the dream that’d pulled me from sleep.

  I tilted my head and focused on the faint sound that seeped into my room.

  Crying.

  That was all it took for me to throw back my covers and jump to my feet. I flew out my door and through Frankie’s, skidding to a stop at the side of her bed.

  She wasn’t fully awake, just tossing and whimpering in her shallow sleep.

  “Shh . . . what’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” I urged, voice a whisper as I was reaching for her, brushing back the hair matted to her forehead.

  A flash of terror jolted up my spine.

  She was hot.

  I pressed my palm against her forehead.

  Her skin was sticky with sweat.

  Shit. She was burning up.

  She blinked, her eyes searching for me in the shadows. “I don’t feels good, Daddy.”

  I scooped her into my arms, pressing a bunch of kisses to her temple like the action alone had the power to soothe away any discomfort she might feel. Fighting the panic that churned within me, I carried her into my room, flipped on the light switch, and headed straight for the attached bathroom, flipping that light on, too.

  Frankie blinked against the brightness.

  “Sorry, Sweet Pea,” I muttered, setting her on the counter but keeping one hand on her while I rifled through the medicine cabinet to find the thermometer. “What hurts?” I asked as I fumbled to get the plastic guard on the earpiece.

  “Ev’ryfing
.”

  My hands were shaking, and it took me for fucking ever to get the damned thing snapped in place. I forced myself to slow, to be careful as I slipped it into her ear, my heart thundering in my chest as I waited the five seconds for it to beep.

  104.3

  Fuck.

  That panic surged.

  That is bad, right?

  Truth was, Frankie’s health wasn’t a gamble I’d ever take.

  I gave her a dose of Tylenol then grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet, ran it under cool water, and pressed it to her forehead. I held it there as I picked her back up and carried her out to my bed, laying her on it. “Hang on one sec, Frankie. Daddy’s going to make sure you get all better.”

  She just gave me a trusting nod and curled up on her side, clinging a little tighter to the doll she was always dragging around. I slipped into a tee, jeans, and a pair of shoes, before I had her back in my arms, grabbing my keys and wallet from the entryway table, and rushing her out into the night.

  The hour was deep, moon hanging midway on the horizon, peeking out from behind a streak of wispy clouds stretched in front of it. I wrenched open the back door of my truck and got her into her booster seat, buckled her quickly, and jogged around to the front. I slid the key into the ignition and turned it.

  The engine cranked but didn’t turn over.

  “Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I pumped the accelerator and tried the ignition again.

  A slow dread sank in with the realization.

  Fuck.

  The cabin lights hadn’t illuminated when I’d opened the doors. I glanced up. The overhead light switch was still set to on.

  Fuck.

  Frankie had asked for the light so she could look at a book when we were driving back from the lake on Saturday night, and I’d forgotten to switch it off. Leave it to my old-as-shit truck. Or just to me.

  The battery was dead.

  “Shit.” I drummed my thumbs on the wheel, calculating just how long it would take me to get the battery charger out of the shed to juice this thing up, when my attention snagged in the rearview mirror.

  The sleeping house behind us was bathed in a shallow pool of moonlight, the windows darkened and encased in silence.

  The woman probably hated me.

  At least she should.

  I still couldn’t believe the dick move I’d pulled two nights ago, the way I couldn’t stop from pressing myself against her, taking a little bit of what I couldn’t have.

  I knew better.

  But I couldn’t stop after I had heard what’d gone down in Frankie’s room. That quiet understanding that had poured from Rynna, like she might actually have the ability to get what me and Frankie had been through. Like maybe she’d been through some of the same bullshit, too.

  Goal had been nothing more than thanking her. But I’d gone and gotten stupid. Had gotten too close. Had touched her because I couldn’t stop myself.

  Not when I was engulfed with her presence. Cherries and sugar. So goddamned sweet.

  None of that mattered right then. The only thing that mattered was Frankie, who was moaning in the backseat, her head bobbing all over the place. Worst was I couldn’t tell if she was nodding off to sleep or truly coming in and out of consciousness.

  Any loyalty I had didn’t come close to touching that.

  I hopped out of the truck, wrenched open Frankie’s door, and had her back in my arms in the next second. With one arm holding her against me, I grabbed her booster seat and then strode across the vacant street.

  There was no hesitation when I bounded up the steps and pounded on Rynna’s door.

  I stood there, shifting my feet anxiously while I waited, that unease growing tenfold when I saw a light flicker on through an upstairs window. Thirty seconds later, footsteps were shuffling across the floor. I could almost feel her confusion when I sensed her peering out the peephole at us.

  But the second she did, there was no delay, and she was tearing open the door.

  Concern was written all over that face.

  That goddamned striking face that made something inside me light up at the sight of her.

  “Oh my God, Frankie Leigh.” It was whispered panic pouring from her pretty mouth. “What happened?”

  Those java eyes darted to my face.

  Worry.

  Fear.

  I forced down every convoluted feeling I had about her. “She woke up with a fever. My battery’s dead in my truck. Need to borrow your car so I can take her to the ER.”

  “I’ll drive you,” she said instead of agreeing. The girl was already sliding on a pair of flip-flops that had been sitting by the door.

  “That’s not—”

  She held up a hand, cutting me off the way I had continually done to her. “She’s sick, and you’re obviously upset.” Her tone softened. “I’ll drive you. It’s not a problem.”

  The part of me that always needed to prove that I could raise my daughter alone wanted to rear its head and fight her. I bit it back. Focused on the feeling of my daughter in my arms.

  Frankie’s well-being was my only concern.

  “Thank you.”

  I should absolutely not be accepting this woman’s generosity.

  Every fucking one of the reasons why surged to the forefront of my mind. Screaming at me why this was wrong. To watch the line I was toeing.

  Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  Rynna grabbed her purse and stepped out, still wearing what she’d obviously gone to bed in—a pair of thin cotton striped pants and a black tank.

  I dropped my gaze. At least I managed to find the self-control not to watch the sweet sway of her luscious ass.

  Guessed it was the little wins.

  I followed her to her SUV, situated Frankie into her booster seat in the backseat, and climbed in beside my daughter.

  I pretended I couldn’t feel the weight of Rynna’s worry when she kept glancing through the rearview mirror at us, pretended her concern wasn’t there, palpable in the air.

  Pretended it didn’t mean more to me than it should.

  I brushed back Frankie’s hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling the heat radiating off her, praying she was fine. I told myself every kid got sick. It was a part of life. But that didn’t mean my guts weren’t twisted. It didn’t mean the fear wasn’t there. It didn’t mean that every day of my life I wouldn’t be terrified of losing her, too.

  11

  Rynna

  The big double doors Rex and Frankie had walked through three hours before swung open for what had to be the millionth time that night. I shot to my feet when this time it was finally Rex carrying out a sleeping Frankie in his arms.

  The same blond-haired guy who’d been sitting with Rex at the bar on Friday night followed close behind them, and I had to do a double take when I saw he was wearing a pair of blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck.

  Even though he still exuded that same uptight, rigid stance, Rex seemed relieved. The bounding tension that had orbited his being seemed to have dissipated.

  And that relieved . . . me.

  It was true.

  Gone was the weight that had crushed like a pile of rubble and stone while I’d sat there alone, waiting for word. For anyone or anything to confirm that sweet little girl was fine. My rationale told me it was just a virus or a bug. Yet, this other part of me—the one that had panicked when I’d found the two of them standing outside my door in the middle of the night—had worried and fretted the entire time they’d been in the back.

  God, it’d taken a matter of days for me to get in over my head.

  But I’d barely been able to focus on anything else since I’d left Rex Gunner staring after me on Saturday night after I’d read Frankie that story. More confused than I’d ever been. His touch lingering on my skin and his words rambling through my head.

  Honestly, I’d been shocked when he came to me for help.

  But any reservations I’d wanted to hol
d had been wiped away by the sheer terror he’d attempted to keep veiled in the vast abyss of those stormy eyes. Eradicated by the fierce protectiveness that had radiated from him.

  Most of all was this helplessness he couldn’t seem to keep contained. It was in the way his chin had quivered as he’d stood on my porch with his daughter held in the safety of his arms.

  “How is she?” I whispered, even though the waiting room was loud and bright. I couldn’t do anything but reach out and thread my fingers through her brown hair. She was absolutely peaceful in his hold, and that simple touch sent a wave of affection bounding through my veins.

  I sucked in a breath, surprised by the sudden, all-encompassing emotion.

  Quickly, I turned my attention to search Rex’s face.

  His stunning, hard, brutal face.

  Obviously, it was a more dangerous place to avert my attention. Because the emotion grew.

  “It’s just a virus.” That rough, scruffy jaw was held tight, though there was a heavy solace that flooded out with the words.

  The man who’d followed him out elbowed Rex in the ribs. “Rex here takes overprotectiveness to a whole new level. If he had let that Tylenol kick in, he would have known she was just fine.”

  Rex grunted. “Not a chance I was willing to take.”

  I wondered just what chances Rex was ever willing to take.

  Though, I had to agree with him on this one. “It was good you brought her,” I told him, hoping to encourage him. Hoping he’d get that I saw the kind of father he was.

  The man next to him laughed a disbelieving sound, as if he took some kind of satisfaction in the situation. He shoved his hand toward me. “Dr. Kale Bryant, at your service.”

  I returned his shake. “Rynna Dayne.”

  A smug smile took to his handsome face, his eyes darting between Rex and me, his voice fueled by an undercurrent of laughter. “Oh, you have no idea just how nice it is to meet you, Ms. Dayne.”

  Rex almost rolled his eyes. “Dr. Kale Bryant. I remember the days when I used to let you cheat off my math tests, asshole. Take it down a notch.”

  Kale clapped him on the back. “Hey, don’t go knocking that whole doctor bit. Your ass would still be sitting out here waiting to have your daughter seen if it weren’t for me.”