Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  Lust sieged my body as I stared at her standing in the moonlight like some kind of vision.

  Like some kind of wicked enchantress with the face of an angel.

  Baking my fucking favorite pie, nonetheless.

  Her scent was all around me. Cherries and sugar.

  My mouth watered, and I clenched my fists in an effort to keep myself from reaching out and taking a taste for myself.

  Maybe I was still back in bed and this was just a new element of the nightmares that haunted me night after night.

  If this were a dream, I’d be inviting her in and sinking into that tight body. Fucking her hard and wild. Just the way I liked it. That would be right before she grew fangs and ripped me apart. Hell, with the way she was looking at me, it was clear she was already poised to tear me to shreds.

  “Some chances aren’t worth taking,” I said, voice rough with warning. She needed to know she was crossing into territory where she wasn’t welcome. Banging on my door in the middle of the night was completely off-limits. How could this girl possibly think this was okay?

  I set my forearm high on the jamb, knowing every inch of me was bristling with the challenge.

  All except for my dick. Apparently, that was the only part of me that didn’t seem pissed off at the intrusion.

  Her strong chin lifted in her own challenge. “No? Haven’t you ever heard you never know if you don’t try?”

  “And how many doors have gotten slammed in your face because of that philosophy?”

  “More than I could count. And why do I get the feeling you’re about to add another to that number?”

  A disbelieving chuckle rumbled in my chest. This girl was all kinds of grit and determination. “I’m easy to read, I guess.”

  A tiny snort huffed from her nose. “Hardly.”

  She angled her head, and those warm eyes turned almost pleading. “Listen, I’m going to be living right across the street . . .”

  Just the thought of it left me antsy and agitated.

  Her voice softened. “I don’t know anyone around here anymore, and it’d be nice to have a friend. I thought maybe you and Frankie could use one, too.”

  Laughter ripped up my throat.

  Cruel and low.

  “Sorry, but I have all the friends I need, and I’d appreciate it if you stayed away from my daughter. She doesn’t need anyone else making her promises they have no intention of keeping.”

  Before I could do something stupid, I slammed the door shut in her face. Exactly the way she’d been expecting me to do. I leaned my back against the wood, trying to catch my breath, to slow the raging in my spirit, that part of me that hated being such an asshole.

  All the while trying to remind myself why it was necessary.

  There was something about her that set me on edge. Left me feeling off-balance.

  Self-control was not normally something I lacked, and fuck, it wasn’t like she was out there offering herself up like a warm slice of pie.

  But just looking at her had me itching for a taste.

  I could feel her on the other side, her presence that swept the air unsettled and thick. Like I’d caused her physical pain with the rejection and she was projecting it right back to me.

  Maybe she really was just trying to be nice.

  Maybe she didn’t have ulterior motives.

  But that was a chance I just couldn’t take.

  * * *

  Fear tumbled through his veins and clanged in the hollow of his chest. Frantic, he stumbled through the brushy undergrowth, the world buried by soaring trees. Branches lashed at the exposed skin of his arms and thorns latched onto the fabric of his shirt in an attempt to hold him back.

  It propelled him harder.

  Faster.

  He screamed her name. “Sydney.”

  Sydney. Sydney. Sydney.

  The howl of wind answered back.

  Sydney.

  I shot upright, chest heaving as I struggled to catch my breath. To orient myself to the movement that jostled me awake and pulled me from the dream.

  “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! Wakey, wakey, wakey. I made you breakfast.”

  Frankie was grinning at me as she jumped on my bed. Brown hair wild and free, just as wild and free as the way she looked at the world. At the way she loved. Wholly and without reservation.

  I scrubbed both palms over my face, dropped them just as fast. It was not all that hard to return her grin.

  Her expression alone was enough to chase away the exhaustion that constantly weighed me down. The few hours of sleep I managed were restless. Plagued with the curse that darkened my life.

  I swallowed back the fear. The terror that one day it might steal her from me, too.

  “You made me breakfast?” I asked, voice groggy, my touch tender as I brushed her too-long bangs back from her innocent face. “That’s awful nice of you, thinking of your daddy first thing in the morning.”

  She giggled. “Of course I thinks about you, Daddy. And I made a whole big bowl, ’cause Grammy says you could eat a whole cow.”

  “Oh, she did, huh?”

  She nodded emphatically, her eyes going wide when I hopped up and tossed her over my shoulder. Frankie roared with laughter, the kid dressed in shorts and a tee with that same damned hot pink tutu around her waist.

  So fuckin’ cute.

  “That Grammy is going to be in big, big trouble when I see her today,” I teased my daughter, who was bouncing on my shoulder as I started running with her down the hall.

  She squealed, kicking her feet and holding on to me for dear life. “Oh, no, don’t tell Grammy! It’s our secret.”

  “I thought you said you were good at keeping secrets?”

  Damn it.

  The last thing I needed to do was bring up the conversation she’d had with Rynna yesterday. Just the mention of that woman had fantasies slamming me from all sides. Her face and her hair and that body.

  Sweet, mouthwatering sugar.

  I’d thought maybe the morning would have scraped the idea of her from my consciousness.

  No such luck.

  I shoved off the thoughts, refusing to give them voice. That was right when I came to an abrupt stop when I entered the kitchen I’d just finished remodeling.

  Frankie scrambled upright, pushing those unruly locks from her face with both hands, a hopeful smile plastered on her face. “I mights have spilled a little milk, Daddy. Is that okay? I’m gonna clean it all gone, but I didn’t want your cereal to get all gross and swoggy. Bleh.”

  Her nose scrunched, and her lips turned down as if she’d tasted something sour.

  I frowned when I saw a “little” milk was actually the entire gallon minus what she’d managed to pour into the cereal bowl. A pool of white swam between the small table set for two and the refrigerator against the far wall, the emptied plastic container floating in the middle of it.

  Her shoulders went to her ears, her voice quieting. “Is you mad?”

  Hugging her close, I pecked a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Of course, I’m not mad. We’re just gonna have to get you to the gym with me so we can start building up these muscles.” I lightly squeezed her tiny bicep. “How’s that sound? You ready to start pumping some iron? Before you know it, you’ll be as strong as The Hulk.”

  She giggled like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “The Incwedible Hulk? You’re crazy, Daddy. I’m gonna be Wonder Woman. Don’t you know I’m a girl?”

  She threw both her arms in the air before she started shimmying down my body, getting free of my hold, and heading straight for the drawer where we kept the dishtowels. She climbed up the step stool so she could reach it, that smile lighting up the whole room when she looked over at me. “Right, Daddy? Can I be the best dancer in the whole world and Wonder Woman?”

  I crossed the kitchen to help her clean up the mess. “Yeah, Tiny Dancer, you can be whatever you want to be.”

  I’d make sure of it.

  Because she was the single
wonder of my life.

  I’d do whatever it took to keep her that way.

  5

  Rynna

  Sunlight poured in through the long row of dark tinted windows that overlooked the bustling street. It struck the murky space like a blazing orb of fire against the quiet darkness that held fast to the silenced space, the light still muted in the far reaches of the restaurant.

  It left the space filled with a dim hue of warmth, the atmosphere an intricate dance of peace and regret and the remnants of my lingering fear.

  Lovingly, I dragged my fingertips through the layer of dust that had gathered on the bar, exposing the shiny white counter hiding underneath.

  Buried, but not forgotten.

  Yearning pulsed through my being, my spirit full and my heart heavy, that lump at the base of my throat prominent as I slowly wandered through the old diner-style restaurant that for so long had been the center of my life.

  How many days had I spent at this counter? A little girl coloring and painting who turned into a teenager studying for the SAT?

  How many mornings had I been there before dawn, standing on the step stool so I could see over the counter back in the kitchen? I’d watch in awe as my grandmother would mix the ingredients, helping her pour them into the bowl, my arm straining as I’d followed her instructions and pressed the dough into pie crusts. The whole time I would quietly listen to her chatting about life, the woman so easily relating everything to the pies she made.

  How much life had buzzed in the bustling diner, the families that had gathered in the booths and the old men who’d sat at the bar with their tall tales to tell?

  That life had been silenced, but it wasn’t gone. I could feel it. Bated, but simmering. Trembling all around where it was restrained, pressing and vying to be freed.

  Waiting for someone to believe in it again.

  For someone to breathe that life back into its walls.

  And Gramma had somehow put her faith in me that I would be the one to do it.

  Even after I’d run like a coward.

  I just prayed I could live up to her belief.

  I jumped when the old bell jingled above the door and someone called, “Knock, knock.”

  Heart leaping to my throat, I spun around. I did my best to beat down the jolt of fear that had taken hold. My eyes narrowed as I tried to make out the two figures in the doorway.

  They stepped forward, coming into view in the dimmed light of the diner.

  Two women.

  Their faces unfamiliar, but both had to be around my age, maybe twenty-eight or thirty. One was dressed in something like I would have worn to the office back in San Francisco. A perfectly fitted pencil skirt, blouse, and heels, her black hair done up in an intricate twist. The other was more casually dressed in trendy jeans and a flowy tee, her hair cropped and messy.

  Dusting off my hands on my jeans, I walked their direction. “Can I help you?”

  “You must be Corrine Dayne’s granddaughter.”

  I gave a slight nod.

  “We heard you were coming into town,” she said. “I hope we’re not intruding, but we wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Lillith Redd.” The woman in heels stepped forward with a welcoming smile and pushed her hand out in front of her.

  I rounded the corner and shook her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lillith. I’m Rynna.”

  The other woman laughed. “Ah, forget that ‘Lillith’ nonsense.” She hooked her thumb in her friend’s direction. “This one right here goes by Lily Pad. Don’t fall for that suit-wearing, straightlaced attorney vibe she’s rockin’. She’s actually kind of a wild child when you get to know her. And we finally get to meet the Rynna Dayne, not to be confused with Grandma Corinne. I pretty much feel like we’re already best friends since your grandma never stopped talking about you. I’m Nikki Walters.”

  There was a kind, playful confidence about her, no hesitation when she reached out to take my hand.

  Confidence.

  Right then, I scrambled within myself to find it. To remember who I’d become in the years I’d been away. The strength and boldness I’d found. It was crazy how coming back to this town incited the instinct to cower and hide. “It’s really nice to meet you, Nikki.”

  I glanced between the two of them. “So, you two knew my grandmother?”

  It actually felt nice to find someone other than Frankie and her dad who remembered my grandmother. The fact I was there by myself and facing this alone was beginning to set in. That loneliness growing bigger with each second that passed.

  It didn’t help Rex Gunner had quite literally slammed a door in my face last night.

  Standing on his porch like a fool as I’d offered myself up, only to have him so callously reject me, had stung. I wanted to hate him. To think him nothing but a jerk. But I couldn’t.

  Maybe it was the way my grandmother had raised me. To slow down and look deeper. Beyond the surface and the shallow to what was concealed underneath.

  God knew I’d been judged enough as a child. I might as well have been on trial for my appearance alone, a thousand convictions made with each passing, sneering glance. And I had looked deeper at Rex. What I saw was pain and fear and a rickety defense lurking right under the hostility that seeped from his pores like poison. There was something so ferociously protective behind the shield of venom and animosity.

  It filled me with the urge to break through it. To chip it away, piece by piece. To dig deeper until I’d discovered everything that was hiding underneath.

  It didn’t help that one look at him made my stomach shiver and shake.

  I had no idea what it was about this guy, but every time I saw him, I was struck with an overpowering shock of attraction. The kind that spun my head and left my knees weak with the impulse to run my fingers over the hard planes of his body.

  Which was crazy. I didn’t know him. But I couldn’t scrape the idea from my consciousness that I was supposed to.

  Nikki’s eyes widened as if my question had been absurd. “Of course we knew your grandma.” With a moan, her eyes rolled back in her head as she tipped her face toward the ceiling. “She made the freaking best pies. Like, to die for.”

  Wistful laughter tumbled free. “Yeah, they kind of had that effect on people, didn’t they? Now that woman could bake.”

  Her pot pies were almost as legendary as her sweet pies.

  “Tell me you’re actually reopening this place and you have all her secret recipes,” Nikki pleaded as if my answer might save her life.

  I glanced around the diner that had been shut down for the last two months, but with the poor shape it was in, you’d think it had been vacant for years. The entire place was covered in an inch of dust, the red pleather booths cracked, some torn. More concerning was the equipment in the kitchen that was old and in far worse shape.

  Resolve set into my bones. “I’m going to try.”

  Lillith laughed a tinkling sound. “Oh, if you’re anything like your grandma made you out to be, I think you’ll fair just fine.”

  A sad smile emerged at just the edge of my mouth. “I think there’s a chance my grandmother might have played me up to be something I’m not.”

  “Psh.” Nikki waved a flippant hand. “As long as you have those recipes, you’re golden.”

  “Well, following her recipes is the easy part. It’s the two hundred thousand dollar loan I need to whip this place back into shape that I’m worried about,” I returned, trying to make it a joke and not let the reality of it bring me down.

  All the while, I wondered why these two set me so at ease that I felt comfortable sharing such personal details with them.

  But I did.

  Concern flitted across Lillith’s face, her expression knowing. “I heard there was a tax lien?”

  I sighed, but there was satisfaction behind it. “There was, but I was able to sell off some of my things back in California to pay the lien, as well as the back payments due on the house. That left me with the keys to
both.” A wry chuckle rumbled out. “And you know, about five dollars to my name.” I wasn’t quite that destitute, but it was close.

  “Hey, a strong woman can work magic with five dollars,” Nikki said, her grin wry.

  “I just might need a little magic to come into play if I’m going to make this happen.”

  Sympathy lined Lillith’s face. “I’m so sorry your return is under these circumstances. I hope you know your grandmother was a huge asset to this community and an even better friend. She is greatly missed. If there’s anything we can do, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m an attorney, and I’ll do whatever I can to help you get this place reopened, whether you need me to file anything or need legal advice or even if you just need a friend to talk to.”

  Her words were carefully phrased, but there was a genuineness that seeped out with them.

  “That’s really nice of you. Thank you. I may need to take you up on that offer,” I told her.

  She smiled. “The entire town is really excited by the prospect of the diner reopening, especially with the hotel going in across the street. The whole intention of the Fairview Street Restoration Project is to mesh the old with the new. A cohesive fusion of the past and present, and I’d personally love to see this diner become a part of that.”

  Pride lifted in her expression when she looked over her shoulder and out the window at the construction taking place directly on the other side of the street.

  Nikki almost rolled her eyes. She dropped her voice as if she were whispering conspiratorially, though not low enough that Lillith couldn’t hear. “You’ll have to excuse her. Her fiancé’s company has the hotel going in, and this one right here is kind of pathetically in love.”

  Lillith swatted at her. “Shut it.” She looked at me, grinning. “Nikki is the one who pretty much insisted I give him a chance, and now that we’re together, she won’t stop giving me crap about it. I think she might be jealous.”

  “Hey, don’t act like you don’t want to kiss my feet for bringing the two of you together. That was nothing but pure matchmaking skill. Think of all the orgasms I earned you.”