Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  “It means I want to take care of you.”

  She tried to clear her head. “You have a girlfriend. Right downstairs. Remember? And I’m not a little girl anymore.”

  He looked at her in that strange way again. “No. You’re not. But that doesn’t mean you won’t always be mine to protect.”

  Footsteps clattered up the steps and came their direction. “Hey, assholes,” Rex shouted, “We’re coming for you.”

  Ollie jumped back, putting a couple of feet of space between them, looking away from her as if standing that close to her was a sin.

  Kale’s voice carried, getting closer and closer. “Come on, shit sticks! We’re heading to the lake. Cliffs are calling my name. It’s hotter than the devil’s backside in here. Think we walked right into the pits of hell.”

  “Alabama is hell. Thought you would have figured that out by now,” Ollie shouted back.

  “Ollie! Come on. It’s hot in here, and this place is super creepy. I want to leave.” Meredith’s voice echoed through the worn walls, a bit of frustration behind them.

  Nikki stumbled away. Confused and somehow hurt. “Just go. I need to go check on my sister, anyway. I promised her I’d take her to the movies today.”

  Ollie wavered, unsure before they heard Sydney’s shouted words filter through with a laugh. “We are three. Forever and ever. You and me.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Rex’s voice echoed.

  Sydney laughed. So carefree. “No way.”

  Ollie gave a last fleeting glance at where Nikki stood trembling against the wall before he relented and headed for the door. “Comin’. Nikki is headin’ home.”

  He was leaving her.

  Was it stupid that hurt her, too?

  “What?” This from Sydney. Nikki could hear her friend’s footsteps growing closer while the guys clanged down the steps.

  “Where are you?” Sydney called.

  Nikki eased out of the room. Trying to play off whatever had just happened between her and Ollie. It felt so different. So wrong and so right, and Nikki was sure she’d never been so unsure of anything in her whole life.

  “Come with us?” Sydney asked, stretching out her hand, head angling, knowing something wasn’t right.

  “I think I’d better go check on my sister.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  “No.”

  She squeezed Nikki’s hand. “We are three. Forever and ever, you and me.”

  Swallowing hard, she let Sydney guide her out through the motes that floated in the dusky air. The steps creaked and groaned beneath them as they headed down the flight of stairs.

  Nikki could feel it, though there was nothing she could do.

  The wood giving, splintering beneath her foot.

  Nikki screamed as the plank busted, and her leg wedged through the hole.

  Sharp arrows of wood cut into her skin. Pain and fear turned her stomach again.

  “Oh my God, Nikki!” Sydney cried, and footsteps were bounding again, and Ollie was right there.

  His face was twisted in shock and concern.

  She didn’t want to find comfort in it.

  She didn’t want to feel as if he made her feel everything would be all right.

  But she did.

  His touch was gentle as he eased her leg from the hole, careful to wind her ankle and foot free so she wouldn’t get any new gouges.

  She definitely didn’t want the tears that broke free when Ollie pulled her into his arms, but a sob of relief broke free when he held her close and whispered, “I’ve got you. I won’t ever let anything bad happen to you. I promise.”

  She wound her arms around his neck and buried her face under his jaw. His scent was all around her as she clung tight.

  She couldn’t make out all the words people were shouting around her.

  Because Ollie had her.

  And that meant everything in her world was right.

  15

  Ollie

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I wasn’t sure why my damned heart went haywire because of it. Maybe it was because I was praying it was Nikki. Hoping she’d just text to shoot the shit, tell me how her day was going, or maybe ask me about mine.

  Hell, I’d settle for a text just to remind me I was an asshole again.

  Anything would be better than the two of us acting like the other didn’t exist.

  Two days of tiptoeing around my house.

  We’d been walking on eggshells since I’d brought her there in the first place, just waiting for something to crack.

  Come loose.

  But now . . . now it was different. A boundary had been crossed. A dam busted. It left me walking through a fucking flood of need.

  I was up to my goddamned eyes with it.

  Twice, I’d passed her in the hall, and it’d taken every fucking thing I had not to grab her and press her delicate, delicious body up against the wall.

  Needing to devour that mouth.

  Desperate to take it further.

  To slide my hands up her skirt and slip my fingers into her heat.

  I’d felt it. How fucking bad she’d wanted me. It was almost as potent as the anger she felt for me.

  The fear.

  At least she hadn’t taken off.

  Sucking in a breath, I pulled out my phone and squinted at the text on the screen.

  Sage: Got a call. Think I have something you might be interested in.

  Sage was one of the guys at the shop I’d invested in where I had all my cars restored.

  Disappointment was probably not the reaction he was going for, but I deflated with a heavy exhale as I tapped out a response.

  Me: What you got?

  Sage: ’55 Bel Air. Seller is bringing it by in about 15. Thought you might want dibs.

  His offering almost brought on a smile.

  Me: Yup. I’ll be there.

  Sage: Cool.

  Tucking my phone into my back pocket, I grabbed my keys and headed out the door, going straight for the elevator and riding it down into the basement. I hopped onto one of my bikes, figuring the fresh air would do me some good. Rid me of some of the anxiety and need bottled in my limbs.

  Kicking it over, the engine roared to life. Metal vibrated beneath my hands. I took it to the road. Heavy on the throttle. Weaving through cars as I let the heat blast at my face and beat some of the bullshit away.

  Could almost feel it scatter like fall leaves blowing away to reveal what they concealed.

  Damp earth.

  Darkness.

  Blood.

  Bones.

  Dirt.

  That date loomed. Right around the corner. A reminder that Sydney was what I was fighting for.

  Ten minutes later, I took a left and then a right, winding down into the industrial section of Gingham Lakes. I passed by warehouses and shops and dingy offices.

  Slowing, I made the last right through the big metal gate into Roke’s Restorations. I was itching to get my fingers on something good. Something that could be brought back. Something that was safe.

  The massive rolling doors of the shop had been lifted. Gliding to a stop, I set my boots out to balance the bike and kicked the stand. I swung off and rushed a hand through my windblown hair as I ducked through the door and into the shop.

  Place was in its usual state.

  Disarray with the promise of something good. Cars and bikes and parts sitting everywhere in varying states of repair.

  When he heard the thud of my boots echoing on the concrete, Sage eased out from under a hood of a classic Pontiac. He lifted his chin, grabbed a rag. “Hey, man, you made it.”

  “And miss the chance at getting my hands on a Bel Air? Think you know me better than that.”

  He turned up one of his confident grins. “Which is exactly why I got with you first. Guy said he’d picked it up local and wants to turn it quick.”

  We both turned when we heard a car rolling into the lot.

  “Ready to check this out?”


  “Hell yeah.”

  Side by side, we headed out the garage doors.

  Rolling into the lot was a four-door sedan that had to be ten or fifteen years old, beat to shit, and seen better days. But it didn’t come anywhere close to looking like the hunk of rusted-out metal being towed in behind it.

  How the fuck he even towed it out of whatever dump he’d found it in was beyond me. The tires were flat and rotted, and every inch he moved forward was met with the shrill sound of metal grinding.

  Taking a look at the kid behind the wheel of the car, my first thought was desperate times called for desperate measures.

  He put it in park and cut the engine. A dude that couldn't have been older than twenty came springing out of the driver’s side, scrawny as fuck with ratted out clothes. Cheap ass, second rate, hacked out tattoos littered his arms.

  “You Sage?” he asked.

  “Nope.” I shoved my hands into the pockets of my jeans and rocked back on my heels.

  My gut instinct made itself known.

  Standing there was something seedy.

  I angled my head at Sage, who had to be thinking the same shit. “This is Sage.”

  The kid nodded at him. “Caleb. We talked on the phone.”

  Sage extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Nervously, the kid looked back at the car. “Well, this is it.”

  I wandered over to the rusted-out Bel Air. Windshield smashed to oblivion and all the rest of the windows gone, upholstery cracked and ripped with some of the rods and springs poking through.

  Resting my hands on the windowsill, I ducked my head inside and peered around at the old gauges and dials in the dash, old style stereo still in its place.

  It was gonna need a full overhaul, that was for damned sure.

  It was exactly what I’d been looking for. Exactly like I remembered. I pulled my head back and looked his direction.

  “Where’d you find her?”

  Twitching, he gestured south with his head. “Down on Roddum. A guy is getting rid of some of his mom’s old things. He said he needed to sell it quick because he needed the cash.”

  I stood, crossed my arms over my chest, and stared at the guy, trying to get a read.

  Intuition.

  My glare promised him I knew something wasn’t quite right.

  The punk shifted, about three seconds from pissing his pants.

  Knew his type.

  Badass until there was someone standing there who was bigger than him.

  I ran my fingertips over the hood of the car.

  There was something about it that was way too familiar.

  Too close.

  “What’s the guy’s name?”

  Caleb shrugged. “Todd. Said it wasn’t worth anything, and I might as well dump it in the lake.”

  Awareness pressed down on my chest. Todd. Nikki’s uncle.

  Maybe I should have recognized the car the second the kid had pulled up. Wasn’t like there were all that many of these cars sitting around, which was why I’d been searching for one in the first place.

  I’d fallen in love with this very one a long damned time ago.

  Summers spent traipsing in and out of her grandma’s house. Playing. Running wild.

  We’d sit in this car where it was parked at the back of the lot, turning the wheel and yanking at the gear shift like it might take us to another place.

  Fairyland.

  Any place we wanted to go.

  Todd used to live in a trailer that sat at the very back of Nikki’s grandma’s land. He had always been out working in the yard and the shed, fixing shit up.

  Couldn’t even say how long ago it’d been since he’d moved out of town.

  Hit with the onslaught of memories, I pressed my palms to the side panel and dropped my head.

  Honestly, I wasn’t exactly sure of what Nikki would think of me buying this car.

  If she’d be pissed or pleased.

  Thing was, it was a part of who we were.

  On top of that, Nikki’s grandma was sick.

  Loss was a motherfucking bitch.

  What made it worse was I didn’t know things were so bad they were needing to sell stuff off.

  I looked over at the twitcher who’d probably swindled the car right out from under them. “You said Todd sold you this car?”

  “Yeah, dude . . . pretty sure that was his name. Looking to get rid of it fast. I didn’t do nothin’ wrong, so if you're not interested, let me know and I’m out of here. No big thing.”

  I roughed a hand through my hair and turned my face up to the strikingly blue sky.

  Blowing out a sigh, I looked back at him. “Need to make a call, and I'll let you know. Give me a minute.”

  Asshole itched, eyes darting around, desperation flooding his tone. “Man, if you're not interested, I’ll find someone who is. Don’t have time for this bullshit.”

  I flew at him, getting right in his face.

  Off to the side, Sage chuckled, low and dark. Hell, the guy was probably more intimidating than me.

  Punk staggered back, and I just backed him closer and closer into the wall until the only way out was through me. “Listen, asshole. I know the owner of that car.”

  I pointed at it as I said it. “Now give me one fucking minute to figure out if this is legit. Otherwise, I'm gonna take matters into my own hands and make that decision for myself. If you want to leave, be my guest. But you won’t be leaving with this car. You got me?”

  He shrugged me off, lifting his chin like he thought he was a badass who was going to take me out.

  Bring it on.

  I’d lay him out in a second flat.

  He shook himself out. “Whatever. You have five.”

  Punk asshole twat. Little fucker needed someone to teach him a lesson.

  I gave Sage a warning look.

  And he gave me one back.

  This shit didn’t sit right with either of us.

  I pulled out my phone and tapped out a message to Nikki. Hated that she was probably going to cringe when she saw my name come up on the screen.

  But this was my job.

  To protect her the best way I could.

  Me: Hey, is your grandma selling some of her things from her place?

  Three of us sat there in silence, waiting for a response. Five minutes passed, then ten.

  The asshole smacked his hands out in front of him. “So, are we gonna do this deal or what?”

  I groaned out a frustrated sigh. “What are you asking for it?”

  “Ten.”

  I laughed out loud and gave a harsh shake of my head.

  With the way he flinched, I was pretty sure it sounded like nothing but a threat.

  “I’ll give you four.”

  “What the fuck, man, that’s bullshit.”

  Hands curling into fists, I edged closer to him, not quite sure why I felt like taking the stain out.

  Got the feeling he’d been doing plenty of shady shit on his own.

  This guy radiated sleaze.

  Wasn’t about to let him make out on this car. On Nikki’s family’s pain.

  No fucking way.

  “You’re free to leave here, deal or not. But you're not leaving here with this car.”

  16

  Nikki

  “All right, everyone. Have a seat, and we’ll get started,” I called to the group of women who had congregated along the back wall of the secluded basement room, pouring themselves coffee and chatting before the meeting.

  Everyone moved to their seats.

  I glanced around at their faces. Some familiar, regulars who were there week after week, but there were a few new faces, all of which looked unsure of themselves and what they were doing there.

  Their expressions ranged from hopeful to sad.

  Their ages, heritage, and economic statuses didn’t matter. Each of them was so very different, yet in this setting, they were all the same.

  Recovering from one trauma or an
other.

  Abuse.

  Loss.

  Whatever it may be, it united them in solidarity.

  Nerves strained tight across my chest at the anxiety I felt each time I sat in this position. The weight and the burden I was gladly taking on.

  Their counselor.

  Their encourager.

  The chatter quieted as everyone settled into their seats, and Dr. Kathy gave me a nod, giving me the go ahead.

  I was leading group tonight.

  My stomach dipped as those nerves soared.

  My gaze met Brenna’s, and she gave me a timid smile.

  I smiled back and cleared my throat, letting my attention bounce around the group. "Good evening, everyone. Thank you for being here. It’s great to see your faces.”

  “It’s good to be here,” echoed back.

  “For those of you who may not know me, my name is Nikki Walters, and I’ll be leading group tonight. Before we start, I’d like to reiterate that this is our safe place. Everything said within these walls is confidential and won’t leave this circle. We won’t judge each other, but rather we will hold each other up.”

  Agreement rippled around the circle.

  “Let’s start this off with our group mantra. Our prayer. We’ll remember it with everything that is shared tonight.”

  I strengthened my voice and began to recite, “I am strong. I have control of my life. I have control of my body. I have the right.”

  Some of the women chanted it loudly, claiming it, while others merely mumbled it under their breaths.

  That was okay.

  The only thing that mattered was that each of them would hear it again and again until they believed it.

  “Okay . . . tonight I would like us to talk about some of the emotions you experienced when you decided it was time to make a change. No doubt, standing up for what we deserve when we might be in a bad situation is met with a gamut of emotions. Fear and joy and conviction and doubt, just to name a few. Let’s look at those and how they impacted your decisions to make a change. Who would like to start?”