Page 50 of Fight for You
He started talking again, always effortlessly casual. “Miabegged for a field trip. Wanted to come here. Someone saved the day by saying the family business sells organic Fruit Loops. The toddler gagged, rolled her eyes, and left my older—the others to close the deal. Anyway, Mia is a freshman in college now. Graduated a year early.”
The others? Not his brothers? Was this why he became Jamie Mack? To place more distance between him and his brothers?
Jamie’s expression shifted. Warmth drained from his eyes. His shoulders settled into that familiar tension like his very bones remembered things he hadn’t said aloud.
With a confident stride and eyes locked on him, I sauntered past. Slow. Deliberate. Imagining myself in iconic, red-bottomed heels—like a woman who owned every room she entered. In contrast, my eyes conveyed a different narrative.What’s wrong, Jamie?Of course, I didn’t mind asking. This mouth never shut. Even so, something about the set of his jaw told me he’d only share if I didn’t push. At least not directly.
Jamie lifted the stroller over the metal gate track, careful not to disturb Rebel as if the sleeping dog could muffle the storm building between us. I followed him along a small lane, on one side a bare gravel lot. The other side a cinderblock garage.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had questions. “You don’t look comfortable here.”
Jamie didn’t respond at first. Just readjusted the backpack strap, which was confirmation enough.
“You said ‘the others.’ Not your brothers.” How’d I become fiercely loyal to strangers?Ride or die,say what?
“Honest to God, I’m not comfortable here,” he said. “Let’s just get in. Grab a set of wheels. The sooner we’re in and get out, the sooner we can figure out how to deal with Chelomey.”
I sighed. So matter of fact. Always moving. Always mission-first. I wanted to scream. “You think Aleksandr’s still after us?”Yeah.Dumb question. I sighed. “After the day we had, it felt like ourhome burned down last summer. And I can’t believe he’s back after all this time.”
“I get what you mean.” Jamie approached a door and pulled his backpack from off his shoulder. As he sifted through keys—man, he had a lot of keys—he groaned. “Almost had Chelomey in my crosshairs in Tarzana Hills.” He turned a key into the lock, and it gave a deafening click. “I’ve gotta neutralize that threat for good. Then we get to go home.”
As he held this door open for me, I stared at him. He reached inside and flicked on the lights as if he believed the darkness had prevented my movement. Sorrow laced into my tone. “Our home is gone, Jamie.”
He looked back at me—and I could’ve drowned in that look. Not anger. Not annoyance at what I’d said. Just understanding. And something deeper. Jamie pushed the stroller inside and stepped forward, eliminating the distance between us. All the tension and confusion melted away, leaving only one thing: hot-furious desire.
“You remember when I first told you we were going home? We’d just gotten reacquainted?” Jamie spoke. Smooth, deep, low, soft, as if he meant to heal me with his voice. “Of course, that Siberian Laika had scared you.” His arms came around me. And I leaned into him before I could stop myself.
Images from that night, a night of freedom from enslavement, danced in my head. His voice had sounded like a dream. His eyes held the same smolder while he now crushed me to his chest, telling me he remembered every detail. “Of course I remember,” I murmured. “Those dogs scared me half to death.”
He chuckled low, husky. “When I told you we were going home, Jordyn, I didn’t mean a place.” The vow in his tone carried every word he’d declared. Everything about him was a truth I could believe in.
“What did you mean?” I’d gone breathless in his powerfulembrace as my cheek planted against his chest. A strong, steady heartbeat made me want my heartbeat to match his. Had to be crazy. This had to be crazy.
This had to be …love.
“Unfortunately, JorJor. I can only explain it in certain ways. Words don’t carry enough weight. Actions do.” Jamie dropped his lips on the crown of my head. He then captured my mouth with his own in a kiss that wasn’t hungry. Frantic. Or lustful.
But intentional. A kiss that told me he was right here. That he would always be. A kiss that claimed all my inhibitions and me right along with it. I lost myself in the feel of his powerful arms wrapped around me. This man had confronted darkness, face-to-face, and refused to bow.
Desire pulsed through my veins, and the taste of him left me dizzy. I rose onto my toes for more. And there it was again—that ache.
The want.
The way my body remembered being used and twisted that memory into craving something I didn’t even understand anymore. The pull in my gut whispered,You need more.
Jamie kissed me again. I opened for him. Let him in. But even as he held me like I was something sacred, I felt a war inside of me. Because he wasn’t chasing lust or feeding hunger.
He was steady.
Too steady.
And that terrified me.
Was this enough for him? Was I enough?
Or worse—was I too much because this wouldn’t always be … enough for me?
“I need you, Jamie,” I whispered. Having been used by men for their own selfish pleasure and hating the entire species since I could remember, I was confused as to why I craved Jamie both physically and emotionally.
