Fight for Me

by Jessica Linden

  He stood and picked her up, then carried her to the room they’d been using as a bedroom. He laid her down on the sleeping bag and pulled her jeans off the rest of the way. Then he dropped his own.

  She stretched out, suddenly feeling shy in the rays of sunlight streaming through the cracked blinds. He didn’t seem to notice, laying down beside her and running his hand along her hip. His mouth found hers, and it was gentle, some of the earlier need having lost its urgency.

  She could still feel his need for her pressed into her belly, though.

  He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she was on top of him. He gripped her ass, pulling her against him.

  “Grab the condom out of the bag there.” He nodded toward one of the bags he’d picked up at the truck stop the day before, which was within reach.

  She handed him the foil-wrapped condom and scooted down his legs so he could take care of it. When he was ready, he lifted her hips and positioned her above him. She sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of him entering her.

  “Take it as slow as you need,” he said.

  She nodded and slowly lowered herself, an agonizing inch at a time until he was fully enveloped within her.

  He laced his fingers through hers, waiting while she took several deep breaths and allowed herself to acclimate to the new sensation.

  She’d thought he filled her before. That was nothing compared to this.

  He put his other hand on her hip, guiding her movement. She closed her eyes and took it slow, her breath catching as the tension within her began to build.

  Once she had a rhythm going, he removed his hand from her hip and brought it to her clit.

  Pleasure shot through her. She moaned, stopping her motion.

  “Keep going, baby,” Knox urged and she slowly started moving her hips again. Faster and faster she went. She shifted her legs slightly wider and his cock hit a spot inside her that sent small spasms through her.

  She bit her lip and ground her hips harder, working for that sweet release. Every muscle in her body tensed as the orgasm vibrated through her. She cried out, squeezing Knox’s hand and digging her fingernails into his chest with her other hand.

  As she was coming down, she felt Knox jerk his hips one last time and shudder, enjoying his own release.

  She collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily while he stroked her hair. When she’d caught her breath, she shifted to lie beside him, throwing her leg over his.

  “That was . . . words can’t . . . I just . . .”

  He kissed her temple. “I know, baby, I know.”

  And somehow, she knew he did.

  “That’s him.” Natalie nodded toward the black sedan with tinted windows sitting at the red light. Knox couldn’t see anyone but the uniformed driver.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Natalie laughed. “Check out the license plate.”

  As the car turned into the restaurant parking lot, Knox caught a glimpse. MNYTLKS.

  “Money talks?”

  Natalie shrugged. “He’s kind of a douche bag.”

  Knox just shook his head. “Come on.”

  They waited for a break in the traffic, then came out of the alley they’d been lurking in to cross into the parking lot. They’d become expert alley lurkers, blending into the shadows.

  Natalie had wanted to go directly into the restaurant to talk to him, but Knox vetoed that idea. She might be able to blend in—if they had suitable clothes—but there was no way he was getting in there unnoticed. And there was no way in hell he was letting her go alone.

  So instead, they were spending the evening waiting in a parking lot.

  The first order of business was taking out the cameras monitoring the lot. Natalie figured if they disabled them, an alarm might sound. So they were taking it old school—spray paint. It took Knox back to his early days of living with X when he was a punk teenager with too much time on his hands. As long as he stuck to his MMA training and didn’t get picked up by the cops, X didn’t care what he did. At the time, Knox thought the free rein was the best thing in the world. Years later, he realized it was because X didn’t give two shits about him. Not really. He was nothing more than a piece of livestock.

  He and Natalie settled behind a large potted bush to wait. They were out of sight from most of the lot, but Harding’s car was still visible. Luckily, his driver was nowhere to be found.

  The sound of footsteps had Knox tensing with his hand on the gun. Natalie sucked in a breath and stayed absolutely still.

  A woman dressed in all black except for a silver vest walked by, too caught up in her cell phone to even notice they were there.

  The silver vest . . . there was something about it.

  Suddenly Knox shuddered, closing his eyes.

  Splatters of blood on a silver vest.

  “Knox, what is it? Are you okay?”

  Knox exhaled, taking a second to calm himself. When he opened his eyes, Natalie had her hand on his arm and a concerned look on her face.

  He’d seen that silver vest almost every day of his early childhood. His mother must have worked at this restaurant. He knew she was a waitress, but he hadn’t known where. It wasn’t like his family could actually afford to eat somewhere like this.

  He never talked about it. Hadn’t since he’d given his statement to the police from his hospital bed. But looking back at Natalie’s sweet eyes, he suddenly wanted to.

  Natalie was the first person he’d loved since his mother died.

  “My mother was murdered,” he said. “In front of me.”

  “Oh my God.” The words escaped just before Natalie put a hand up to cover her mouth, the other one going to Knox’s arm. Her eyes widened as a bevy of emotions crossed her face. First horror, then sadness, and finally understanding. “How old were you?”

  “Eight. My father . . . he was a drunk. Liked to smack my mom around. I don’t know why she stayed. He couldn’t hold down a job, so she supported the family. She could have left. She should have left his drunk ass.”

  “Sometimes it’s not that easy,” Natalie said quietly. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing circular motion.

  “I usually stayed out of the way, and for the most part, he left me alone. Sometimes I think he even forgot he had a kid. One night, he got really loaded. My mom was late coming home from work. As soon as she walked in the door, he laid into her. She didn’t even see it coming. At first, he only used his fists, but then he picked up the old rotary telephone we had in the hallway. At that point, I jumped on him, trying to get him off her. I couldn’t call for help. Our phone service had been cut off days before. He threw me into the wall, and I blacked out. When I woke up, blood was everywhere. She was dead. Her head had been completely bashed in by that bastard. And her face . . .”

  Natalie rested her head on his shoulder, keeping his hand in her lap. “Knox, you couldn’t have done anything. You were so young. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you, too.”

  Knox turned his head, looking away. He knew that. Now. But try explaining that to an eight-year-old boy who’d waded through his mother’s blood and brain matter only to see that her face was no longer recognizable. He’d spent the rest of his childhood cloaked in a cloud of guilt. And as soon as X gave him the opportunity, he started training.

  So he’d never be defenseless again.

  Chapter 13

  The driver returned to the car ahead of Harding. When he saw Knox and Natalie lingering, he slowed his walk, looking at them suspiciously.

  “What are you—hey! Get away from the damn car.” He pulled out his cell phone, and Knox closed the distance between them and stripped it out of his hands before Natalie could blink.

  “We’re not here to hurt anyone,” Knox said. “We just want to talk to Mr. Harding.”

  Natalie stepped forward. “I need to talk to Mr. Harding about some family business. That’s all.”

  “Then why don’t you call
and set up an appointment?” The driver’s comment made perfect sense under ordinary circumstances, but these were not ordinary circumstances. “And give me back my phone. That’s theft, you know. I’ll call the cops.”

  Natalie and Knox exchanged a look.

  “Charlie, what’s going on? Why isn’t the car started?” Harding approached. Seeing Knox and Natalie, he frowned. “Who are these people?”

  The driver crossed his arms. “They say they need to talk to you about family business.”

  “Oh yeah? They can call my secretary just like everyone else. Let’s go, Charlie. Start the car.”

  Natalie stepped forward. “Mr. Harding, you might know me. I’m Natalie Farrington Kent. I met you once or twice before.”

  He looked her over for a moment before recognition flashed in his eyes. “What can I do for you, Miss Kent?” His tone was patronizing, the way so many of those in her father’s circle had spoken to her.

  “I’m trying to locate your stepmother.”

  “Ex-stepmother.” Harding’s tone was petulant, like that of a spoiled child rather than a man old enough to be a grandfather.

  “I’m sorry. Ex-stepmother,” Natalie corrected, trying to appease the man, even though her heart sank as she stared at the man standing before them with his chest puffed out and thinking he was better than they were. Harding wasn’t going to help them.

  “I couldn’t care less where that crazy old bitch is.”

  Natalie smiled tightly. “So sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to Knox. “Let’s go.”

  Harding pulled a small silver handgun from inside his suit coat and pointed it in their general direction. It was the kind that Natalie would have expected a woman to pull out of her garter belt. Still, it was a gun, so she froze, instinctively putting her hands up.

  “I don’t think so,” Harding sneered. “A lot of people are looking for you two, including your dear father. He’s worried sick. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t call? Give my driver his phone.”

  Knox took a few steps forward, no doubt to put the attention on him instead of Natalie. Harding swung the gun in his direction. No! Natalie wanted to scream. He wouldn’t shoot her, but Knox didn’t have that same guarantee.

  Knox looked at Natalie briefly before holding up the phone and shaking it. “This phone?” Then he threw it as far as he could, over the cars and the line of bushes into the neighboring lot.

  Charlie looked back and forth between Harding and Knox, looking like he’d rather chase down the phone than stand between his armed employer and Knox.

  Harding let out an irritated sigh. “Why do you have to be difficult? Do you want me to shoot you? Everyone would believe it was self-defense. And no one would miss you.”

  Not true. Natalie’s nostrils flared, but Knox remained unaffected.

  Harding reached into his pocket while still keeping the gun trained on Knox. However, that little loss of concentration was enough of an opening for Knox to lunge at him, hitting him in the midsection and taking him down.

  “Sir!” Charlie stepped toward the fray, but Natalie rushed to stop him, trying to remember what Knox had told her. She brought her knee up toward his groin and felt satisfaction as her blow hit home. He doubled over for a second, then his hand flung out, catching Natalie on the face.

  She reeled back, her cheek feeling like it was going to explode. She blinked, then prepared for her next strike.

  Beside her, Knox roared. He handed her Harding’s silver gun. “Use it if you have to.” Then he advanced on Charlie with slow measured steps.

  Natalie kept the gun trained on Harding, whose eyes were wide. His lower lip quivered. He looked like a man who was about to pee his pants, a far cry from the arrogance he’d displayed moments ago.

  “Oh, shit.” Charlie took one look at the murderous look on Knox’s face and turned to run. Knox grabbed him from behind and threw him on the ground. He started whaling on him until the man passed out and his face was a bloody mess.

  But he kept going.

  “Knox!” Natalie cried. “He’s done! He’s finished!”

  Her words didn’t register. It was like he was in another place.

  “Stop, Knox!” Natalie put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned, his fists raised and bloody. His eyes finally focused on her and he lowered his arms.

  “We need to go.”

  He nodded and stood, but before leaving he walked to stand over Harding one last time. “If you ever—and I mean ever—threaten Natalie again, I swear I will find you and rip your tongue out through your asshole.”

  Knox inspected the teeth marks on his shoulder in the bathroom of the house while Natalie illuminated the wound with a flashlight. In over a decade of fighting, Knox had never had another man bite him like Harding had done.

  “He didn’t even break the skin.” He shook his head and pulled his shirt back on. “What a fucking pansy.”

  Natalie clicked off the light as they returned to the living room. “That’s good. Otherwise it could’ve gotten infected.”

  “It better not leave a scar.” No way was Knox wearing some douche bag’s dental records on his shoulder. He had plenty of scars on his body, but those were acquired respectably, in proper fights.

  Natalie just laughed. “I hate to say it, but seeing the fear in his face was almost enough to make this night worthwhile. Almost.”

  “Are all of the rich fuckers in this city like him?” If Darwin’s theory of survival applied in today’s world, punks like Harding would have kicked it long ago. Too bad today it was all about who you knew and how much money was in your bank account.

  “No.” Natalie made a face. “Some are like my father. Others are good people, though. Most are involved in charity work in some way, and though some do it for the social aspects and the recognition, a fair amount of them genuinely care for the causes.” She paused and her face brightened. “The greenhouse! That’s it! Eleanor started a local greenhouse to grow fresh produce for the needy. It’s even named after her. I doubt she works in it anymore, but someone there might know something about her.”

  “Where’s the greenhouse?”

  By the look on her face, Knox knew it wasn’t anywhere close. He sighed. Tomorrow. They’d deal with that tomorrow.

  Natalie disappeared into the bathroom and Knox settled on his own sleeping bag, lying on his back with his cell phone in his hand. He absently scrolled through the local news channels and snorted when he came to a news clip featuring an interview with Harding. The backdrop was the parking lot of the restaurant, which was now cordoned off with yellow police tape.

  “Look at this,” he said to Natalie, and tilted the phone so she could see before he hit play.

  “So Mr. Harding, John Cowley, more commonly known as Knox, attacked you?”

  “Yes. I was brutally and viciously attacked. This was after he held me up at gunpoint and assaulted my driver.”

  “Thank goodness you got away.”

  “Yes, well, my concern is for poor Natalie Farrington Kent. I fear for that girl. That man is feral and doesn’t belong in civilization. I can only imagine what he’s inflicted on her.”

  Natalie gasped. “That son of a bitch.” She shook her head and fumed.

  Pictures of Knox and Natalie flashed across the screen as the reporter reminded the viewers of the ongoing story. There wasn’t anything that they didn’t already know, so Knox hit pause.

  “It pisses me off that they keep dragging your name through the mud when I’m the one who’s actually at fault.”

  Knox shrugged. “You’re not at fault. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does matter,” Natalie said firmly. “All we’ve done is worry about my problems, but what about yours? What are you going to do about X?”

  Knox ground his teeth. Even though the same question had been running through his mind for days, he didn’t have an answer. He should have killed him when he had the chance. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have. If X’s me
n ever caught him, the repercussions would be the same whether X was alive or dead. Might as well have the personal satisfaction.

  His original plan of skipping town was the only one that made sense. But now that wasn’t an option.

  Because now, he had Natalie.

  Once she got her trust situation straightened out—and he had no doubt she would—then what? Her family estate was here. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t just leave.

  And as long as X was around, she wouldn’t be safe. X was a goddamn snake, and he had his beady little eye set on Natalie, too. Until he had her in his fangs, he wasn’t going to forget.

  “And then there’s the police.” Natalie was getting more and more worked up. “Knox, they think you’ve committed all these terrible crimes. I’m the one who’s a murderer.” Her chin quivered and her eyes welled up.

  “Come here,” he said, opening his arms. Natalie crawled into them and rested her face on his chest. “You killed that man in self-defense. It was your life or his.”

  He didn’t say what was running through his head: he still intended to take responsibility for that. It should have been him. Natalie shouldn’t be the one to pay for the crime.

  Although in the long run, it might be smarter to let her claim the kill. No one in this town would convict the Farrington heiress of murder.

  “I keep putting it out of my mind because I have to go on, but eventually, I’m going to have to face the consequences.” Natalie let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers along his chest.

  “One thing at a time,” he said. He pulled the sleeping bag around her and stroked her hair until her breathing became even.

  Even though it was well past midnight and it had been a long day, sleep did not come for Knox. His mind was too full.

  He mentally ran through his options.

  X was involved in a lot of shady shit. If he played informant to the police, he’d have a bargaining tool for any charges they wanted to bring against him. The police would surely trade his freedom for the chance to put X behind bars. But ratting out X would create ripples that would touch a lot of other people who were equally as powerful as X.