The One You Fight For

by Loren, Roni

  He lifted his brows. “Excuse me?”

  “You’d be much better off coming out to the press…in your own way. Do an exclusive interview or something. Control the information. Reset the image people have of you. It will be hard up front, but then after…after, you could live your life.”

  Live his life? He stared at her like she was crazy. That plan was so nuts, he could spread it on bread and serve it with jelly. “No fucking way. Don’t you see what that would do? They would tear me apart piece by piece again. They’ll compare me to Joseph. The video of me and the reporter would be shown over and over again. I can’t change that the attack happened. I can’t change who my brother is. There’s no pretty spin on assaulting someone.”

  “Why’d you attack him?” she asked point-blank.

  “Taryn.” He shook his head. “No.”

  But she kept talking. “In the video, you said, ‘Stay away from her.’ Who’s ‘her’? The article said you’d never say. What made you so angry?”

  He grimaced, his stomach turning. She’d watched the video. She’d seen that ugly, out-of-control version of him. He pushed to his feet, cold anxiety crawling over his skin. “We’re not doing this.”

  “Tell me,” she pleaded, the words soft, beseeching. “I’m not going to tell anyone. We’ve all got things we wish we could take back.”

  He had his back to her. “Oh, right. Sure we do. That’s easy for you to say.”

  “No, it’s not,” she said, somewhere close behind him now, her voice quiet. “I’m not without my own mistakes.”

  “We’re not talking about missing a deadline, Taryn. Or being mean to a friend. Or breaking a rule at work.” His fists flexed. “I beat someone bad enough to break bones. I would’ve done worse if someone hadn’t stepped in. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Don’t pretend to know everything about me. You don’t.”

  “I know you’re a good person.”

  “And you’re not?” she challenged.

  He didn’t answer.

  “You want one of my secrets?” she asked. “Something only the police know?”

  He didn’t want to look at her. He didn’t want to do this. He couldn’t go back to any of those memories. Still, he found himself saying, “What?”

  She was quiet a long moment. “I opened the door.”

  He frowned, and when she didn’t say anything else, he turned. “The door.”

  She was standing now and cupping her elbows, her arms held tight across her middle. “The news reports always said that Joseph and Trevor broke into a side door off the main hallway in the school. That’s not what happened.” Her throat flexed. “I was in the hallway because I wasn’t enjoying prom. I didn’t have a date, and I was annoyed that my sister—who was younger, prettier, and more popular than me—was there with a senior and having the time of her life at my prom.” She looked down and took a breath. “I thought Joseph and Trevor were there to do a prank that would derail the dance. They got me to unlock the door. I realized too late what they were really there for.”

  Shaw’s heart plummeted into his gut. She’d let them in? “Taryn—”

  She met his stare, her eyes shiny. “I think that’s the only reason they didn’t shoot me. Because I helped.” She rolled her lips together, obviously trying to keep herself from crying. “I helped them kill my sister and all those people.”

  “No,” he said instantly, stepping closer and putting his hands on her upper arms, rubbing them as if she was cold. “No, you didn’t. Don’t do that to yourself. That’s… They tricked you. They would’ve gotten in some other way.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know that. Maybe they would’ve gone to another door and gotten caught. Maybe the security guard at the main door would’ve seen something. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. Believe me, I’ve considered all the scenarios.”

  Shaw stared at her, hurting for her. She was carrying around guilt she didn’t deserve. How much weight must that be for her to bear? Only the police knew. She’d held it inside. No one had assured her it wasn’t her fault. Something clicked. “This is why you’re so determined to set things right. You think you owe something to everyone.”

  “Of course I do,” she said as if that wasn’t even debatable. “I owe a debt I could never, ever repay. But I’m also doing it because I don’t want anyone else to go through what I’ve been though, what my friends have been through.” She shook her head. “So I get not wanting the press in your face. The cops kept this information sealed once they cleared me of being an accomplice because they knew how people would attack me. To imagine anyone knowing this about me sends me into a cold sweat. I’ve never even told my parents. I mean, how could I tell them that I helped Nia get…”

  “You didn’t help,” Shaw repeated, giving her arms a gentle squeeze. “But if you’ve told no one, why are you telling me?”

  “Because I want you to know I understand wanting to hide, but if this information stood between me being able to live my life, I’d tell. The price is too high. There are other options.”

  “Other options? I appreciate you trusting me enough to tell me, but it’s not the same.” He let his hands fall to his sides. “People would forgive you. You were a kid who made a mistake with zero bad intent. People aren’t going to change their mind about me. No matter what reason I give for why I attacked that reporter. That paired with my family history is a damning sentence. I can’t help you.”

  She looked down, the strong woman looking suddenly fragile as a bird. Defeated.

  He released a breath, not wanting to say what he was about to but feeling like he owed her honesty in return for hers. “My girlfriend. That was the ‘her’ in the video. The reporter, this sleazy guy who worked for a gossip website, was always following me and hounding me. I’d learned to deal with it mostly, but that day…he’d yelled out that he knew my girlfriend was pregnant.”

  Taryn’s head snapped up.

  Shaw’s lips wanted to clamp down and cut off the words, but he forced them out anyway. “I knew if he had that information, he’d been stalking her outside of doctor’s appointments or something because we hadn’t told anyone yet. I was a mess back then and on edge. The unexpected pregnancy had me freaked out. So I was already pissed he had this news and let him know it. Then he asked me if I was worried the baby would be a killer like my brother.”

  Taryn’s face went slack. “Oh my God.”

  “Yeah. I just…lost it.” Shaw looked toward the other side of the gym, trying to keep the old feelings from welling up. “The girl and I were already on shaky ground, but after the assault charge and the video made the news, she ended the pregnancy without telling me.” Saying the words out loud made his chest hurt. “Turns out, she was worried about exactly that, that she was carrying damaged goods. Me attacking the reporter and getting diagnosed with an anger disorder sealed the deal.”

  Taryn’s face shifted into stunned disbelief. She put her hand over her mouth.

  “So, yeah. I’m not going to the press with that,” he said. “Besides, there’s nothing to say to change people’s minds. The circumstances still didn’t give me the right to hurt that guy like I did.”

  “Maybe not the right, but a damn good reason,” Taryn said, some fire coming back into her voice. “That’s a disgusting thing to say to someone. And I’m so sorry, Shaw. That she… I’m sorry. I can’t imagine.”

  “Yeah.”

  She stared at him for a long moment. He had to look away. He didn’t want to see pity there. He didn’t want to feel what those memories brought up. He didn’t want to admit that losing a child that way had been like someone cutting out his heart. He also didn’t want to admit he’d had the same worries as his girlfriend about the baby. What if his genes were damaged? What if he was so damaged that he’d mess up a child’s life?

  “Thank you for telling me,” Taryn said, a sad edge to he
r voice. “I’m sorry I suggested the press. I won’t push you like that again without knowing the whole story.”

  He nodded, relieved she was seeing logic and that the matter was settled. “Thanks.”

  She took an audible breath. “But I’m going to stand by the fact that isolating yourself like this is not healthy.”

  “Not healthy?” He smirked, trying to get this conversation far, far away from where they’d wandered. “Now you know my story and that I have an anger disorder, so you’re gonna give me a therapy session, doc?”

  “Oh, don’t give me that shit,” she said, quiet sass entering her tone. “I’m just being straight with you. And I hope they used more evidence than one attack to diagnose you. You were provoked in a vicious way at a vulnerable time. That’s a one-off, not a pattern of behavior.”

  He looked away.

  “But what I was going to say is that even if you don’t come out publicly, you can’t keep living like this.”

  He grunted. “Believe me, I can.”

  “Nope.” She pursed her lips. “I can prove it’s not healthy or sustainable, that it is a doomed plan.”

  “Oh really,” he said, annoyance returning.

  “Yes. Case in point. The night in the foam pit.” She tipped her chin up as though her point had proven everything.

  He glanced over at the pit in question, trying not to remember how it’d felt to have his arms around her, her soft mouth against his, to feel that heat surge between them. “That night was a temporary lapse in judgment.”

  “No. It was you being human.” She crossed her arms like a lawyer ready to make her closing arguments. “Humans need people. They need to socialize. To have friends. To touch and be touched. To have people in their lives who they can be themselves around. Even though that’s not part of your plan, you’re still going to want that on some level—even if it’s a subconscious need. That’s why you couldn’t help but take the risk with me that night.”

  He snorted. “That’s why I kissed you? Because of my humanness?”

  She nodded resolutely. “Yes.”

  He leaned in, letting himself indulge in the up-close view of her for one selfish moment. “I can assure you, professor. My humanness had nothing to do with why I couldn’t keep my hands off you.”

  She straightened at that, her cheeks darkening. “Oh…I…”

  “And I appreciate you worrying about my mental health, but I’m fine. I’m much better off living like this than how things were before. I’ve got what I need. I need to protect that.” He stepped back and crossed his arms to match her stance. “So I’m sorry it’s not the answer you want, and I respect what you’re trying to do, but I can’t be involved with your event.”

  He turned his back, needing to get away from her. This conversation had cut too deeply, and he could feel the blood pooling at his feet. He didn’t open up like this, flayed open, all his ugly secrets on display. He needed to stitch up and put that Lucas armor back on. But right as he was about to walk away, her voice hit him in the back. “Do you still want to kiss me?”

  His muscles locked up midstep. He refused to look back.

  “Taryn,” he warned.

  “No.” Her heeled boots clicked against the concrete floor as she stepped closer. “Answer the question.”

  He forced himself to turn around and face her again. “That’s an unfair question.”

  Her eyes held challenge as she planted a fist on the curve of her hip. “Why?”

  “Because the answer doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me,” she said, not backing down.

  “Fine. You want the truth?” he said, going on the offensive, hoping to scare her right out the door. “Yes. And it has nothing to do with my damn subconscious. You’re sexy as fuck. Smart. Interesting. And when I kiss you, your whole body responds like you’re starved for something only I can give you. You know what that feels like?”

  She blinked, clearly taken aback.

  “Like a goddamned drug, Taryn,” he said, frustration burning through him. “Powerful and addictive and so tempting, it makes me crazy. Crazy. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve felt something like that? I can barely manage to share air with you and not completely lose my cool. It took everything I had that first night to stop and not take you right there on the gym floor. It takes everything I have every time I’m around you not to touch you.”

  Taryn was staring at him with wide eyes, her lips parted.

  “So yes, I still think about kissing you. I think about doing more than that. I think about dirty, depraved things you should probably slap me for. But that doesn’t matter.” His voice echoed in the empty gym. “Because I am who I am and you are who you are.”

  Taryn’s pulse was visible in her throat as she stared back at him. “Dirty, depraved things?”

  His fingers flexed as his mind raced through all the fantasies that had invaded his mind since he’d met her. Some involving the equipment around them. “Yes. You should probably hit me and then knee me in the groin for good measure.”

  She stepped closer to him, and for a second, he thought she was going to take him up on that suggestion, but she didn’t raise a hand or a knee. “That first night here, you said you stopped kissing me because I didn’t know your name.”

  He clenched his jaw. Why was she so close? Why wasn’t she running? Why did she look so fucking beautiful all the damn time?

  She lifted her face to him. “I know your name now, Shaw.”

  All his ire left him in a hard gust of air, as if she really had punched him. He gave her a desperate look. “What are you trying to do here, Taryn? I don’t have the energy to play mind games.”

  Taryn shook her head. “Not a game. I just need you to know that I know who you are. I know why this is a bad idea. And I still want to kiss you, too.”

  The words tumbled between them and then snaked through Shaw’s blood like a dangerous potion. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, trying to find his good sense, and then looked down at her. “Taryn, I know how bad you want this program to happen, but you don’t have to do this to get me to agree.”

  Her brows popped up at that and then she laughed—actually laughed at him. “Hold up. Are you seriously suggesting I’d offer myself in exchange for that? In exchange for anything?”

  “No, I—”

  “Good Lord. Yes, I want this program to work so badly, it keeps me up at night. I’d sacrifice a lot to make it happen. I have sacrificed a lot. But I do have my limits.” She gave him an exasperated look. “This is not about the program. What I’m saying to you is that maybe there’s a way we can both get what we want.”

  The words washed over him with heat. What he wanted? What he wanted was her lips on him again. What he wanted was her calling his name and begging for him to taste her, touch her, be inside her. He pushed past the lump in his throat. “And what is it that I want, professor?”

  “Besides depraved things?” she teased. “A clean slate.”

  “A clean slate,” he said, voice flat.

  “Yes. Maybe not from the world yet. But from me. What your brother did was…what your brother did,” she said, the words hitching a little. “I’m not going to pin my feelings about that on you. That’s not fair. And I know you have Rivers, but maybe…you could use someone else you can be yourself with. A friend. Maybe a friend you kiss.”

  He watched her lips move, processed the words, but couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Surely, he was dozing in his office and this was some twisted dream. “Friends who kiss.”

  She adjusted her crooked glasses and wet her lips, distracting the hell out of him. “Yes. And maybe more than kiss, if that’s where things go. Let’s be real. We have a linked history we can’t change. It’s ugly and horrible, and I hate that it’s there. But I like you, and I think you like me. Plus, physical chemistry is a re
al thing. A scientific thing, by the way.”

  He couldn’t help but smirk. She probably had charts about hormones and pheromones she could bust out to show him. He’d never found science sexy, but he bet she could sway his opinion.

  “Based on my previous experiences, such an intense attraction is not something that’s all that common,” she continued. “At least not for me. I don’t normally want to rip some dude’s clothes off the minute I kiss him.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You want to rip my clothes off?”

  She gave him a patient look, as if he were a kindergartner who just wasn’t quite getting what two plus two equaled. “Was my memo not clear enough the night in the foam pit? Believe me, you haven’t cornered the market on filthy thoughts.”

  “Uh…” His brain had stopped functioning. His libido had wrestled away the reins and was galloping off into the sunset.

  “All I’m saying is that yes, our pasts are intertwined, but by no fault of our own,” she said matter-of-factly. “Why should we let what happened take away yet another thing? Thinking about that… Well, it pisses me off.” Her lips pursed. “I’ve been through hell. You’ve been through hell. If we want to kiss each other, why shouldn’t we be able to do that? We’re grown people. We’re attracted to each other. We’re both lonely.”

  He frowned. “You’re lonely?”

  She let out a resigned sigh. “I have fantastic friends, but my work is my life. I’m busy and am going to get busier. I’m not in a place to go out and find people to date. And when I’ve tried, it’s usually been a disaster. You saw me after one of those disastrous dates the night at the bar. I’m an epically boring date, it seems.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But being with you… I don’t know. It feels easy.”

  Easy. He’d never heard that word sound quite so complimentary. No one described him that way. But this woman, this woman who had every reason to hate him, was asking to spend more time with him. To be a friend. To be more than that.

  “You’re serious about this,” he said carefully.