Page 24 of Fight for You
“I’m okay,” I croaked, pride more wounded than it’s ever been.
Instead of continuing to charge up the shore, where an incline led home, I aimed for the street. Fog covered the area, and I couldn’t see too far ahead of me. Since the street was practically dead, so early in the morning in a touristy town, I darted over East Cabrillo Boulevard. Halfway across the major street, honking broke out.
Jamie bit off a cussword as I sprinted onto the curb across the street. With the vehicles passing, the fog swooshed, and I discerned his figure in the center divider.
“JorJor, wait for me, please!”
Still not my name. I bypassed the beachfront stores and took a side street. Not ready to stop running through this ghost town. Since Santa Barbara was a tourist attraction area, people at the hotels hadn’t come out yet, and restaurants and lounges hadn’t opened.
At least when I ranhard, my brain didn’t have a say. Didn’t get to run amuck withJordyn ain’t?—
A dark figure lunged at me from the fog and shadows. I barely had time to scream as a rough hand grabbed my arm, yanking me off balance.
I stumbled, panic clawing my throat faster than I hit the ground. Hard. My chin bounced off the stone.
“Let go of me!” I shouted, twisting fiercely. It felt like a distillery of every alcoholic drink known to man dropped on my chest. In a flash, his hips slipped between my thighs. The stench could knock me unconscious, and a hand, scented of urine and dirt, covered my lips. Teeth bit through my sports bra. Unbearable, excruciating pain.This.Can’t.Be.Happening. Suddenly, my old life returned with a vengeance. Silently, I bit back tears.
No! I didn’t have to sit still and take this.
My reflexes kicked in. And I bucked my hips upward. The frail transient held on.
“Jamie!” I called out, issuing a one-two punch. Cross hook.
The man gripped my neck and forced the back of my head?—
“Jordyn!” Jamie’s voice sliced through the fog. A second later, a tennis shoe connected with the homeless man’s face with a satisfying crunch. My attacker flew to the side and landed on his shoulder. The man, whose skin was so sullied with dirt, I couldn’t even tell his race, got up, his eyes crazed like a mad dog. Jamie pulled me up, forearm sliding over my midriff to position me behind him.
Too short to even see over Jamie’s shoulder, I peeked around the side of him. “Jamie, he’s got a knife.”
With a flick of his wrist, the man produced a switchblade. He swung the knife in an outward arc. Jamie pivoted to the side and countered with a fist to the man’s jaw. The knife rattled to the ground. Jamie’s defensive moves were fluid and powerful and made a surge of strength flow through me.
No longer rooted to the ground in fear, I rushed to grab the knife. Jamie did the same with the man’s throat. Picked him up. While the man swung out, Jamie’s hand clutched tighter.
My stomach did a flip at the homeless man’s guttural sounds.
The fists that swung, which hit Jamie more playfully than anything, stopped. The man switched his tactic and tried to dig his filthy nails into Jamie’s hand. Blood began to draw over the soft spot between Jamie’s thumb and index. Still choking him out, Jamie pulled the man’s face close. His Scottish accent was thicker than honeyed molasses. “You might not know it since it seems you’ll go after what does not belong to you. But I take care ofwotis mine.”
As if satisfied with getting the whispered threat off his chest that chilled me to the core, Jamie swung at the man. Fist torpedoed the transient’s face, a punching bag. He then threw the man back into the alley where he came from.
When he spun around and looked at me, my first instinct was tohide. He saw … how men treated me. He couldn’t desire a woman with my history. Used. Abused. The frigid air magnified the chilling sensations of that stranger’s revolting saliva and the bites. Nausea swirled in my gut. My eyes hit the ground in shame.You’re trash, Jordyn.
Jamie rushed toward me, palm to my cheek. “I couldn’t stop hitting him.” Before I could speak, he enveloped me in a tight embrace that erased every despicable thought targeted toward myself. “Did he hurt you?”
“A-a little.”
Jamie took a step back, scrutinizing me with eyes I could’ve sworn belonged to an attentive doctor, with love and tenderness and training in his gaze. His eyes zeroed in on my chest, where wet teeth marks sunk into the nylon sports bra, and a look that could kill passed over his face.
“Listen, I uh, I feel dirty.” I was honest with myself and him. “I just want to go back to your place.”
Jamie corrected me. “Our home.”
Silence followed us there.
When I stepped into the house, Rebel pranced around me as if the Rottweiler had turned rabbit while Jamie strolled straight for the stairs. I fell to my knees, allowing her to kiss me. Lick away the disgust from the other man’s unwanted touches. “You’re such a good girl. In these past six weeks, you’ve become my best friend. You make me feel, Rebel.”
I scratched behind the Rottie’s ears, then got up, following the sound of rushing water. Jamie kneeled in front of the freestanding tub. Sudsy water rose. He poured in enough bath oil for my rear to slide all the way down to Mexico. Then more. And more.
“Jamie.”
