Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)

by JB Salsbury

  They don’t know though.

  They don’t understand.

  No one does.

  ~*~

  Killian

  It’s times like these that my size pays off.

  As I push through the front door of Clifford’s house, people see me coming and get the fuck out of the way. This isn’t a party of college athletes, rather the opposite. Rockers, druggies, and artsy types. I tower over most of them, and those who are as tall are also gangly as hell, so they step aside.

  I’m sure the don’t-fuck-with-me vibe I’ve got going on doesn’t help either. I texted Axelle twice to let her know I was stopping by, and she hasn’t responded.

  The sound of Carcass blasting through the speakers adds another layer to my concern for Axelle. She despises death metal.

  I have to wonder if she’s even still here.

  My eyes scan the room, and other than a few people I’ve seen on campus, one really nice girl from my bio class, and the stoner guy who always has to take smoke breaks from my lit class, there are no familiar faces.

  Good, as soon as I can get eyes on Clifford, assure myself he’s not going to bed tonight with my girl in his arms or worse—things of which I cannot imagine without breaking something—I’ll be able to go home and crash, with my phone, of course. Because the second she finally does respond I’m going to ream her ass for not keeping her fucking phone on her at all times.

  Shit! Has the woman learned nothing from her mom’s mistakes?

  “Yo! Mr. UFL, what’s up?” Theo calls to me from the kitchen where it looks like the final few hands of strip poker are being played.

  I fist-bump the guy. “You here with Ryder?”

  “Yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” He looks around then shrugs. “Can I get you a beer or something?”

  “No, thanks.” I search the area for Axelle. “I’m not staying long.”

  “Suit yourself.” He throws back a shot of something.

  “Is Axelle around?”

  “Yeah, man, she was just here. Might have hit the can or wandered off to pass out.” He laughs.

  I clench my fists.

  “She was pretty fucked up.”

  Ryder, that piece of shit son of a bitch!

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up…” His voice fades as I plow through the house, practically flipping over furniture to find her.

  Don’t freak out, Killian. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to rescue her from a party. She’s probably outside or in the bathroom.

  I move to the backyard, but she’s not there.

  I knock on the bathroom door, and three girls stumble out. They try to talk, but I spin on my heel and head for the bedrooms, my blood boiling to the point of fucking murder.

  I tell myself this isn’t my business. Axelle’s old enough to make her own decisions, she can fuck who she wants, and as far as I know, she probably does; although I’d never ask because the confirmation would destroy me.

  But she’s drunk and Clifford is a dirtbag.

  I wouldn’t put it past him to take advantage of her.

  Dammit to fuck, why didn’t I just suck it up and bring her to the damn party? At least then I could’ve kept an eye on her all night and convinced her to go home when she’d had enough.

  I fist my hands in my hair and try to calm my breathing.

  No, I need to find her and get the hell out of here.

  I bang on one of the doors. “Axelle, you in there?”

  “Fuck off!”

  I jerk away from the door at the sound of a woman’s voice, which is very much not Axelle’s.

  I knock on the next door, but find it unlocked and cracked open. I peer inside. “Axelle…?”

  It’s as if my mind has memorized every single curve of her body, because even with her lying there on her side, facing away from me, on top of a faded black comforter, I recognize Axelle immediately. She’s sound asleep.

  “Shit.” What the motherfuck is she thinking? Any asshole without a soul could creep in here and— A growl rumbles in my chest as I cross to her. What the fuck is she wearing? My eyes devour her plumped-up breasts barely encased in a black lace bra, the flat plain of her belly that flares into hips wide enough to grab hold of, and her ass—fuck! I rein in my libido and focus on her perfect face relaxed with sleep.

  I run a hand through her silken hair. “Axelle, baby…” I whisper.

  Nothing.

  I lean down and a slight hint of sugary booze is on her breath. I resist the urge to taste it from her lips. After all, that would make me the asshole without a soul. I scoop her into my arms; she weighs next to nothing. When I straighten, she startles, but only nuzzles deeper into my chest and inhales.

  Is she…smelling me?

  A long sigh falls from her lips, followed by a soft snore.

  My blood heats just as my ribs seem to fill with something warm, something that feels really fucking good. Or maybe that’s just having her body so close to mine.

  I walk carefully, turning sideways to squeeze out of the doorway without knocking any part of her on the doorframe. The hallway is a challenge, but pulling her tight to my chest, I’m able to negotiate it without cracking her head on the wall. People part out of the way as I head straight for the door, one girl even opening it for me.

  “Thanks.”

  I move to my Jeep that’s parked illegally across the street. With the thing stripped down without a top or doors, I easily lay her in the back. I contemplate strapping her in, but decide against it. It’s a short drive to her place and…shit. How the hell am I going to get her into her place? There are no pockets in her pants for keys, and I didn’t see her purse anywhere near the bed. I turn back to the house, but ripping the place apart to find her shit would mean leaving her out here alone.

  “Fuckin’ hell,” I mumble and prop my hands on my hips.

  Guess that only leaves one alternative.

  Three

  Killian

  The closer I get to my place, the more pissed I become.

  Why would Axelle put herself in this situation at a party, and where the hell was her fuckhead boyfriend?

  She has a B average in her classes—which is impressive seeing as she hardly ever studies—so I know she’s not stupid. But something about her personality, it’s like being around dumb people making jackass decisions rubs off on her. She hitches her cart to the biggest fucking loser and sits back oblivious while he takes her for a ride.

  I pull into the parking lot of my apartment complex and slide into a spot. It’s student living and most days the lot is full, but Friday nights are pretty dead around here. The entire complex consists of studio apartments, which keeps things fairly quiet. Hard to have a rager in 500 square feet.

  Not that I give a crap. I sleep, study, eat, and shower here. It’s paid for with my academic scholarship money, close to school, and anything is better than living with my mom.

  Axelle’s out cold, her mouth wide open, and damn if her snore isn’t adorable.

  I pull her out and into my arms. She struggles a little, her hands pressing against my chest.

  “Ax, it’s okay. It’s me.”

  Her eyes pop open, and she peers up at me then around the parking lot, her eyes landing on my hand that’s cradling her legs and gripping her thigh. “Why are we at your place, and why are you carrying me?”

  “You mean it isn’t obvious?”

  She answers with a glare.

  “You’re nice and fucked up, passed out alone. Better I take you home and take advantage of you in private than allow some piece of shit to fuck you, right?” My teeth grit together as I force back a full-blown angry speech on responsibility.

  Her glare tightens and she kicks out of my hold. I allow her to slide from my arms and hold her steady while she finds her balance. She pushes me off. “I’m not that fucked up, Kill. I’m just tired.”

  I step into her space, wanting to grab her and shake the stupid from her brilliant brain. She backs up until she hit
s my Jeep, her eyes shining with defiance. “I found you in his bed. Alone. You were so out of it I carried you through the party, brought you outside to my car, and drove you home without you even knowing.”

  Her mask slips and genuine fear flickers behind her deep blue eyes.

  “Let me ask you something.” I clench my fists. “How much do you think you would’ve been able to take before you’d come to, huh? Some asshole’s fingers? Maybe his mouth? Or do you think it’d take him shoving his dick inside you to wake you up?”

  “Shut up!”

  “Stop acting like a rebellious teenager and start taking care of yourself!”

  “I only had a couple drinks!”

  I cringe and step back, shaking my head. “That’s what you always say. Stop lying to me, Ax. Grow the fuck up.”

  She gasps, but tears shine in her eyes. Dammit. I don’t want to make her cry, but she doesn’t understand what would happen to me if something bad happened to her. Not only does she mean more to me than anyone else on the fucking planet, but I owe Blake and Jonah my life, and they’ve made it clear that when I’m around Axelle she’s my responsibility. Fuck, if anything happened to her on my watch, I’d beg them to beat my ass, not that I’d have to.

  “Where’s my purse?” She pats her hips and ass. “My phone?”

  I shrug. “No clue.”

  She chews her lip. “Mindy.” Her hand rubs at her forehead. “My purse is in Mindy’s car.”

  “I didn’t see Mindy there.”

  “She’s probably somewhere with Ryder or that football guy.” A groan falls from her lips. “She has my keys too.”

  “Come on. You can stay here. Call Mindy and tell her you’re safe and you’ll be home in the morning.”

  “Yes, mother.” She stomps past me and I grin at her back.

  This woman and her damn mouth.

  ~*~

  Axelle

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  I’m such an idiot. Killian’s right. What I did tonight was irresponsible. I know better! But it’s not like Clifford or any of his friends would take advantage of me…right? A wave of fear crashes over me, causing me to shiver.

  “Cold?”

  I keep my head down and focus on climbing the stairs to avoid him seeing how embarrassed I am. God, what would’ve happened if he hadn’t shown up?

  He chuckles in that deep way that sends ripples through the air between us and practically caresses my skin. “Stupid question, seein’ as you’re damn near naked,” he mumbles.

  I whirl around to face him and immediately freeze at the possessive glint in his expression: half predatory, half crazy, and all kinds of sexy. I’ve been seeing this look more and more lately, and I have to admit it looks incredible on him—all that dark hair, those lips that if they weren’t framed in stubble on that powerful jaw would appear almost feminine.

  One thing I’ve always known about Killian is he’s beautiful. Now he’s powerful, big, and burly, but he’s still pretty.

  “How can you say that? I’m in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt!”

  His eyebrows lift and his eyes dart to my push-up bra.

  I growl and continue to stomp up the three flights of stairs to Kill’s apartment. Tapping my foot impatiently until he pulls out his key and lets me in, I push into the pristine space and head straight for the bathroom when it hits me.

  “Crap.”

  He clicks on a light. “What?”

  “I need my purse.” I groan and rub my temples as the beginning of a headache forms. What time is it anyway?

  “I have everything you’ll need for a night.” He drops his keys in a small bowl that I know also contains loose change.

  My hand absently rubs my lower abdomen. “No, I don’t think you do.”

  He looks confused until his eyes track my hand. I expect irritation, maybe even anger, but he simply grabs his keys and turns back to the door. “Take a shower. Help yourself to a T-shirt. I’ll be back.”

  “Kill—”

  The door closes behind him, and the telltale click of the lock tells me he’s locked me inside for my safety.

  My heart practically melts. God, this guy, he’s too perfect, too good. I can’t believe he’s stayed by me as long as he has. I haven’t always been the best friend to him, and yet, he’s never once made me feel like the burden I so clearly am.

  I click on the kitchen light and down a big glass of water before heading to the tiny bathroom that smells like soap and bleach. I swear the guy must clean his pad twice a week. I’ve never even seen water spots on his mirror for crying out loud. Mindy and I are pretty clean as far as college students go, our dirty dishes and laundry pile up, and we could probably mop more than we do. Kill is borderline obsessive.

  I hit the water on and strip off my clothes, folding them and placing them in a tidy pile on the small counter space. I take care of business on the toilet before stepping under the hot spray, and immediately the scent of liquor and smoke rushes to my nose before it dissipates. I grab the fancy sports-themed shower gel and lather up my body, thinking about how differently tonight could’ve gone had Kill not shown up. I wash my hair with his two-in-one shampoo, and every time I close my eyes, I almost fall over. Those drinks Ryder made me were stronger than I thought.

  After rinsing, I stand there and let the water beat down on me. Finally, after my body is pruned and exhaustion weighs me down, there’s a soft knock on the door before it cracks open and Kill places a paper bag onto the counter.

  I turn the shower off. “Thank you.”

  He doesn’t answer, but closes the door. Ripping a clean towel off the rack, I wrap up, peek into the bag and almost burst out laughing.

  Inside are small boxes of almost every size tampon in every brand available. I imagine what he must’ve looked like in the tampon aisle, fingering each box into the basket. Even as the visual makes me laugh, my chest warms with the same heat that his attentiveness has always evoked.

  Picking up my brand of choice, I brush my teeth, comb out my hair and—fuck. I forgot to grab something to wear. I pick through my old clothes and cringe at the smell. No, I can’t put those back on.

  I check out my reflection. None of my girlie parts are showing. Hell, Killian’s seen more of my body in my bathing suit. I shrug and head out into the studio to find him sitting at the end of his bed with his head in his hands.

  “You okay?”

  He turns and something flashes in his eyes, but I don’t have time to catch it as he points his eyes to his feet in front of him. “Fine. Um…do you need a—?”

  “Shirt, yeah. I’ll just—”

  “I got it.” He reaches forward, his dresser about a foot from his face in the cramped space.

  A T-shirt flies toward me, quickly followed by a pair of plaid flannel boxers. I scoop them off the floor.

  “I’ll give you some privacy.” He snags a pair of sweatpants and keeps his eyes down while walking into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him.

  I exhale hard. He’ll never see me as anything more than the pathetic girl with abandonment issues. After all, I’m the girl who had two dads and they both walked away without looking back.

  I’ve always been Killian’s charity case.

  No matter how badly I’ve wanted him to see me differently.

  ~*~

  Killian

  I’m staring at my distorted reflection in the foggy bathroom mirror, willing myself to calm the fuck down. Doesn’t help that the limited space of my studio has been infiltrated by her presence. Her naked presence. The shower only liquefied her essence, so now I’m not only breathing in her delicate sweet scent, but it lies upon my skin, coating my body with a sheen of moisture that I consider licking to see if she tastes as good as she smells.

  I slam my eyes closed as my dick punches the zipper of my jeans. Calm, breathe, don’t fuck this up.

  Thing is I’ve had Axelle over to my place more than any of my friends. We’ve hung out, watched movies, studied, even had dinner a
few times. I had a spare toothbrush she used once when she ate a Caesar salad and was worried about her breath, and she even showered here a few times after we’d hung out at the pool. We’ve even fallen asleep while watching TV, but she always ends up going home.

  Tonight she’ll be in my bed until morning.

  Wearing my tee.

  My boxers.

  I groan as my hard-on jumps at the visual of her bare body covered in my clothes.

  I turn my head to see her outfit from tonight in a folded pile by my right hand, her bra placed on top, the tag sticking out displaying a proud 32C. I try not to imagine the way her breasts looked spilling out of that bra and, for a split second, contemplate how far down in the pile her panties are. I wonder if they match her bra, if they’re the kind that cut up the crack of her ass.

  Sick bastard!

  Pushing the thoughts from my mind, I brush my teeth and pop out my contacts, making sure to take my time to avoid walking in on Axelle naked. I don’t know how long it takes for a girl to slide on a T-shirt and a pair of boxers, but by some rare chance, if it takes more than ten minutes, I want to give her the time she needs, because one flash of her naked body and I’ll probably hump her like a dog.

  By the time I finish, pull on some sweatpants, and have taken a few minutes to calm my dick down, I push out into the apartment to find Axelle sitting on the bed with the remote in her hand.

  I dig my phone from my jeans pocket before tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper and hand it to her. “Call Mindy before you forget.”

  Her bright eyes find mine, and her dark brown hair looks black as the wet locks fall down her back. She screws up her lips as she always does when she’s concentrating, and with a freshly clean face wiped free of makeup and rosy cheeks from the heat of the shower, she looks fucking incredible.