Fight for Me: The Complete Collection

by Jackson, A. L.

  Nikki jolted forward. “Wait . . . you don’t know for sure?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  Her blue eyes widened, and I could tell she was holding it back, fighting a question she figured was out of line. But it didn’t matter. I could already see it all over her face, written in big, red, blinking letters.

  I went ahead and answered, more comfortable with the three of them than I could have imagined. “His biological father couldn’t possibly be a carrier, now could he? Not with his dignified Southern bloodline. Testing would be nothing less than an insult to his masculinity and his heritage.”

  It rolled out in a tirade of sarcastic bitterness and disdain.

  So unlike me.

  But it’d finally all caught up to me.

  The festering mess of anger and disappointment and grief.

  It was all doused with the hatred that burned for the fact he could possibly think Evan wasn’t worth the fight.

  Gasoline to my battling soul.

  Finally, I felt ready to face it. Head on.

  I didn’t know if it was Kale who’d given me the last measure of courage.

  Either way, I was so thankful for his promise. That he would be there at my side. That I didn’t have to go this alone.

  Nikki bit down on her lip, butt shimmying in her seat, before she burst out with, “Oh my God, I can’t stand it. Someone please tell me this is where we get to call the wanker names and talk about how horrible he is in bed and how his breath always stinks. Oh, oh, oh, and how he got piss-ass drunk and stepped out in front of a speeding car and now poof. Gone. Problem solved.”

  Her hands made an exploding motion out in front of her.

  Lillith smacked at her. “Nikki! I swear. You are always trying to scare the good ones away with that mouth of yours.”

  She turned an apologetic smile on me. “You’ll have to excuse her. This one was never taught that sometimes it’s better to hold your tongue. You have to get used to her. She’s kind of an acquired taste,” she needled a little more, playful admonishment in her words.

  Laughter rumbled, and I let my eyes widen conspiratorially when I looked at Nikki. “Oh, there’s nothin’ wrong with speaking truth where it’s due. Unfortunately, all except for that whole speeding car thing was on point.”

  Nikki squealed in glee. “Oh . . . I like her. I think I just found my new best friend since Lily Pad over here thinks I’m too much to handle.” The last came with a feigned pout.

  Lillith rolled her eyes. “I can handle you just fine. It’s the people around us who I’m worried about. You remember I’m an attorney. I deal with crazies all the time.”

  “Pssh. Crazy? Who me?” Nikki waved her off, leaning my direction, clear scheming in her tease. “This one just can’t stand it that I’m the ultimate matchmaker—that I’m responsible for all the orgasms Brody gives her and she doesn’t want to give me any of the credit. They’d still be each other’s worst enemies and sending hate emails if it wasn’t for me.”

  A light giggle floated from Rynna. “Watch out, Hope. If you aren’t careful, Nikki here will be taking credit for getting you and Kale together. She definitely thinks she set things in motion for Rex and me.”

  Nikki waved her hands at herself. “Um . . . hello . . . I did set you up with Rex. If I hadn’t invited you to Ollie’s bar, you never would have hooked up. And I was there that night when Kale first saw Hope at Olive’s, remember? Of course, I’m responsible. I’m head matchmaker. I just walk through a crowd and all those love-connecting darts start flying out of me, striking whoever I walk by.”

  “You do remember I first met Brody at Olive’s?” Lillith pointed out, trying not to laugh. “It has nothing to do with you. The bar is definitely the tie.”

  Nikki gasped. “Shut your face, Lily Pad. Stop looking for solutions when the answer is right in front of you. Head matchmaker.” She circled a halo around her head. “Orgasm fairy.”

  She slanted a knowing grin my direction. “Tell me the last rings true.”

  Oh.

  Redness bloomed on my cheeks.

  I was pretty sure I needed to introduce Nikki and Jenna. They had to have been separated at birth.

  Lillith smacked her again. “I swear, Nikki.”

  “What?” she defended, totally innocently before she turned back to me.

  Laughing under my breath, I ducked down when I admitted, “It definitely rings true.”

  Her mouth popped open, and she leaned in closer to me, eyes wide with excitement. “Lovestruck?”

  I let my attention slide to where Kale sat on the deck. Evan had scrambled behind Frankie Leigh up to the porch, and my son was now in front of Kale, communicating something to him that I couldn’t make out, but he was red and flushed and happy.

  So content and free.

  My spirit thrashed.

  That feeling settled over me.

  Because it was true.

  I was totally and completely . . . lovestruck.

  The day played on in a blur of laughter and joy and easiness. Kale and I sat on the grass with his friends as the sun began to sink in the sky, his arm slung around my shoulders while we watched Evan run through the grass, my son’s head tipped back in his silent laughter that I swore I could hear ring through the air.

  It was late evening when we said our goodbyes. I accepted all the hugs that were offered and agreed with the girls that we all would hang out together soon.

  Joy pressed at my ribs. It was a kind of wholeness that seemed almost foreign where it throbbed within the depths of me.

  Kale helped Evan into the backseat of the car and ensured he was buckled before he slid into the driver’s seat.

  Immediately, he leaned in and kissed me over the console.

  In front of Evan.

  It felt like a gentle claiming.

  A statement.

  A promise.

  From the backseat, Evan made that scraping, laughing sound, and Kale and I both peered back at him. He was grinning that earth-shattering smile, his cheeks red with a certain kind of embarrassment that manifested the greatest joy.

  “Is it okay if I kiss your mom, little man?”

  Evan was quick to write on his pad he had on his lap.

  You’re supposed to kiss her if you’re her boyfriend. That’s the rule.

  I flushed, and Kale leaned his forehead against mine, his voice a murmur. “Then I guess I’m your boyfriend. The kid says it’s the rule.”

  He looked back at Evan. “I’m her boyfriend, and she’s my girlfriend. Right?”

  Evan nodded vigorously, then his little hand went flying across the paper.

  Yep. So, what am I?

  Kale stilled, contemplating, before he said, “You’re my favorite.”

  Evan beamed. His entire being lit with a profound joy.

  You’re my favorite, too.

  Every inch of me warmed.

  Kale glanced at me as he turned back, a small, adoring smile gracing his striking face. “All right, then. I think that’s settled.”

  He started his car, backed out, and hit the road.

  He held my hand as he drove back through our small, quaint city.

  A quiet peace filtered through like a murky haze as twilight gathered fast, the moon climbing to the sky from behind the mountain in the distance.

  Kale made the last turn onto our street.

  We parked at the curb and everyone climbed out.

  Rounding the front of his car, Kale swept my son from his feet. “Come here, little man, you look tired.”

  Evan nodded.

  Lines of worry pulled across Kale’s brow, and he ran a hand over Evan’s forehead. “Are you feeling okay, buddy?”

  I watched the two of them, my chest so full as Evan signed.

  “He says he’s just tired because he had so much fun today.”

  “Oh, yeah? What did you think about Frankie Leigh?”

  A giggle slipped from between my lips when I saw my son’s response, my expre
ssion so soft when I turned my attention on the man who’d changed everything.

  “He said he’s gonna marry her.”

  A grin split Kale’s face. “Is that so? You like her that much, huh?”

  Evan gave a flourishing nod.

  “She’s awfully pretty. Seems it’s always the ones who are a handful that snag our hearts, isn’t it?”

  Somehow, I knew he was no longer talking to my son, that smirk washing me over like a slow promise, raking my flesh, making me blush.

  Complicated.

  Never would I regret letting this man complicate me even more.

  I headed up the walk, carrying the empty plastic cupcake container, continually peeking over my shoulder at Kale who trailed close behind, holding my son in the security of his arms.

  I balanced the container on my hip, worked the key into the lock, and pushed open the door. I looked back at my son when I did. “We’d better get you a bath and into bed.”

  Evan pursed his little lips in a pout, and Kale chuckled, ruffled his hair. “Get your bath, little man, and then we can read that Spiderman story you’ve been telling me about.”

  Promise? Evan mouthed.

  “Promise,” Kale returned, setting him on his feet. Evan took off for the bathroom.

  Kale took the container from my hands. “Let me take care of that while you give him his bath.”

  “You better be careful, Cowboy, or I could get used to this,” I teased, though the words were fluttery, my heart and my spirit tied to his.

  No longer afraid to hope.

  Wanting him a permanent part of our world.

  I started to follow Evan when Kale snatched me by the wrist.

  Heat sped up my arm, and shock rasped from my lungs when he pressed me against the wall. And the man kissed me.

  Softly.

  Tenderly.

  Stealing my breath.

  That energy rose up at our feet, climbing higher.

  On a rumbly groan, he dropped his forehead to mine. “I’m such a goner, Shortcake. Don’t think you understand the way you’ve gotten to me.”

  My eyes dropped closed, the words screaming from the depths of me.

  Love. Love. Love.

  I didn’t say it. I just relished it. Let it surge and dance and swell.

  Penetrate those places where it’d last forever.

  I heard the faucet turning on in the bathroom. “I better go check on him.”

  Kale nodded and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

  26

  Kale

  From where I stood at the sink washing the container, I could hear Hope through the walls. Her words indistinguishable and ambiguous.

  But that didn’t matter. I could hear what was important, anyway.

  Joy.

  There was so much of it. Because that was what these two were.

  Joy.

  My chest tightened when I realized the magnitude of what that actually meant.

  That somehow they had become my joy.

  My home when I hadn’t realized I’d been looking for one.

  It should scare me. Terrify me that I had gone into territory I’d sworn I’d never go.

  But standing there in the comfort of Hope’s kitchen, being all sorts of domestic like Rex had pointed out?

  Nothing had ever felt so right.

  I’d denied myself even the idea of this.

  Family.

  Thinking I couldn’t have it.

  Didn’t deserve it.

  Old fear trembled in my bones.

  I went rigid against it.

  Rejecting it.

  Because I refused to fail these two. The past was the past and I was leaving it there. Hope and Evan were my here and now.

  My future.

  After finishing washing the container, I rinsed it and placed it on a dishtowel, drying my hands at the same time.

  In my periphery, my sight caught on the stack of mail that rested at the far end of the counter. My head jerked violently in a double take.

  I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I wasn’t. Overstepping my bounds.

  But the name . . . the name on the top envelope was all wrong.

  Dread sank like a stone to the pit of my stomach, and a freezing cold chill slicked like ice down my spine.

  My vision turned hazy, and my eyes narrowed. I swore, my damned heart was beating so hard I could hear the roar of it thundering through my veins.

  I inched that direction, my subconscious flailing and thrashing in a disturbed awareness.

  The closer I got, the more that distress grew, scraping across my skin like a razor-sharp knife.

  At the edge of the counter, I froze, gulping around the knot in my throat that cut off air.

  Staring down at the envelope on top of the stack.

  I gave an aggressive shake of my head. Like it would clear up the picture.

  Because fuck.

  I had to be seeing things. Making shit up.

  It was all those old memories and regrets and sorrow rising and playing cruel, sick tricks.

  Tormenting me with a stark, glaring reminder of my greatest loss. It all pressed down, the soul-crushing fear of losing him the same obscene way.

  But it didn’t matter how long I stared at it.

  All the letters remained the same.

  Harley Gentry. Harley Gentry. Harley Gentry.

  The room spun. Faster and faster.

  My new world crumbling out from under my feet.

  Hands ripping at fistfuls of my hair, I stumbled back.

  No.

  Fuck.

  No.

  Panic surged. Bouncing from the walls.

  Ricocheting.

  Gaining speed.

  I couldn’t breathe.

  “What’s wrong?” That understanding, tender voice hit me from behind, filled with soft concern.

  Slowly, I turned to look at her.

  Those green eyes went wide with surprise when she got a look at me, my spine rigid and my face pale.

  She took a surging step forward. “Kale? Are you okay? Are you sick?”

  Care. It radiated from her like the goddamned sun.

  My eyes squeezed closed because looking at all the light hurt. It hurt so goddamned much I felt my stomach clench in a roil of nausea that lifted to my throat.

  “Who is he?” I demanded, eyes still pinched closed, not wanting to see her expression when she said it.

  Not sure I could handle it.

  This couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be real.

  “What are you askin’?” she wheezed, a slip of that country drawl seeping into her worry. “We already talked about this.”

  I shot across the floor and grabbed her by the outside of her arms.

  Her eyes widened. A bolt of fear. A vat of confusion.

  “Tell me who he is. Your ex. What is his name?”

  “Kale,” she pleaded, her eyes searching mine.

  “Tell me,” I grated, losing my goddamned head.

  “Dane. His name is Dane Gentry.” It was almost a whimper.

  A blow.

  A gunshot that rang through the air.

  Deafening.

  I choked over the confirmation. My hands releasing her like I’d been holding fire.

  I had. I had. I had.

  I’d been holding fire in the palm of my hands.

  My head shook. “No . . . no. Your name is Harley Hope Masterson. Masterson,” I almost begged.

  She winced. “Masterson is my maiden name.”

  Sucking for nonexistent air, I fumbled away from her. Panic burning me up from the inside.

  No.

  Oh, God, no.

  Hope reached for me, brow pinched tight. “Kale . . . please don’t look at me like you don’t know me. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

  Fumbling away, my back knocked into the kitchen wall next to the arch.

  “I . . .” Glass abraded my throat, the raw cuts refusing words.

&
nbsp; This couldn’t be real.

  A plea took to Hope’s unforgettable face. “I’ve been trying to erase him from our lives. You’ve got to understand that. I told you I would do anything to protect my son.”

  Hope’s explanation became frantic, desperate, the woman edging closer, too close.

  So close I could taste her on my tongue and feel her on my skin.

  Her rushed words fell on my ears. “I didn’t tell you his name because I was afraid you’d do something you’d regret later on. Standing up for Evan and me. Because you’re a good man, Kale. Such a good man, and I knew you’d do whatever you thought you could do to protect us. I was protecting you, too. It’s just a name, Kale. It’s just a name. It doesn’t change anything.”

  But that’s where she was wrong.

  It changed everything.

  “I have to go.” It raked from my raw throat.

  I had to get out of there.

  Run.

  Melody.

  I squeezed my eyes when I was suddenly assaulted with memories.

  Her smile. Her laugh. Her pleas. Gone. Horror. Grief.

  I choked.

  Hope’s face pinched in a brutal kind of pain. “What?”

  “I can’t do this,” I told her, nothing but a coward when I tried to get by her without looking at her face.

  Without looking in those earthy eyes to see the beauty that waited there.

  The hope and the joy and the belief.

  She grabbed me by the wrist.

  That roar in my veins cracked.

  A thunderclap.

  “Tell me what’s happening,” she begged. “What is really going on?”

  I blinked at her, but all I could see was her face.

  Melody.

  Compression after compression. That fucking flat line. “You did this. You did this. She’s dead because of you.”

  Evan’s sweet face flashed.

  Lifeless.

  “I can’t do this.”

  Not again.

  Hope tightened her hold, refusing to let me go. “You don’t get to do this, Kale Bryant. You don’t get to just walk out. You promised.”

  My eyes squeezed closed again.

  Looking at this girl and knowing I couldn’t keep her was the most brutal tease I’d ever endured.

  Just another fucking failure.