Fight Song (Rocky River Fighters 3)

“Thought you might want your bowl back,” he said, holding it up for her to see.

“Could have just thrown it in the trash. I’d have been more than okay with that,” she snapped.

Walking over to the counter to put it down, he turned and studied her. His eyes caught on the script tattooed on her arm, and he read it again, eyes shooting up to meet hers.

“And now that tattoo makes sense. Oh, Piper, tell me you didn’t.”

“What?” she asked in confusion, glancing down at her arms.

“The tat on you forearm, that says ‘If Today Was Your Last Day’. I thought it was just some motivational shit, but it’s the title of a Nickelback song. Please, tell me you don’t have fangirl ink.”

“Would it make you leave me alone if I said yes?” she asked with a smirk. “No, it’s not fangirl ink, per se. The song just speaks to me. Live every day like it’s your last. I wanted a tattoo so I could remember that.”

“Thank God,” he said, genuine relief washing over him. He was determined to win her over on this, and get her to realize that Nickelback was an embarrassment to music as a whole, and rock music in particular, and he told her the last part.

“Oh get over yourself,” she replied with an eye roll. Raising her arm, she showed him more script on the inside of her upper arm. “I have another one here. This is a Nickelback song title, too.”

Stepping closer, he read the script, ‘What Are You Waiting For?’, and the smartass remark on his tongue died as he glanced up and got caught in her unusual violet eyes. They were eyes he’d known for years, eyes he saw in his dreams every night, but the violet color still had the power to take his breath.

“So tell me, Piper,” he said, walking closer and leaning in. “What are you wai

ting for? I’m right here in front of you.”

Her breathing hitched, eyes dropping to his lips as she licked her own. Nearly groaning, he held himself still, praying she’d kiss him, or let him kiss her. She leaned in just a tad, stilling when barking came from the back yard. Pulling back, she shook her head, the dazed look fading from her eyes as she stepped away and went to the back door.

“Snickers!” she called, frowning when the barking stopped but he didn’t come. She called the dog’s name again, sounding concerned, and then stepped outside.

Taking a deep breath and willing his body to calm, Jax followed behind her. He walked outside to see her walking around calling her dog’s name, and this time her voice sounded frantic. Frowning, he followed her, breaking out into a run at her cry. He found her by the fence behind the gazebo, staring at a hole under the fence.

“Shit! I didn’t even know this hole was back here. It’s not like Snickers to dig like this,” she said, looking at him with tears in her eyes that hit him right in the solar plexus.

“It’s okay. We’ll find him,” he replied, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“People will want to keep him if they find him. They never want to return him. I’ve had more people in Seattle try to steal him in the last few years than you would believe.”

“We’ll find him first,” he said firmly, guiding her back through the house, checking to make sure the doors were locked.

“He never stays put. Ever since I got him. If a door is open, he’ll run out, and he’s fast. I knew this. I did, so why the hell didn’t I check the fence more thoroughly? And why are we getting in your truck?”

“Because we can cover more ground if we’re in the truck. You said yourself, he’s fast. We have a better chance of finding him if we can cover more ground faster. And this isn’t your fault, Piper.”

He said the words firmly as he shut her door behind her. Because no, it definitely wasn’t her fault. That hole hadn’t been dug by her dog. It was man made, but he wasn’t going to tell her that right now. Once they found Snickers, he’d tell her the truth.

Piper stared out of the truck window, feeling like she was on the verge of a breakdown. They’d been looking for Snickers for forty-five minutes, and hadn’t found him yet. Cruising the neighborhood with their windows down, calling his name. Then they repeated the circuit, Jax going so slow a turtle could pass him. And nothing.

Checking her phone again to see if anyone had found Snickers and was trying to get ahold of her, she sighed when she saw there were no new texts or calls. She prayed they’d just missed him somewhere, and he’d find his way back home or someone would call and say they had him. She didn’t know what she’d do if they didn’t.

She liked to pretend she was a total badass and nothing could get to her, nothing could break her. But Snickers wasn’t just a dog to her. He was her best friend, her family. The only family she had left. Losing him would break her, and the thought didn’t feel like an exaggeration.

She was broken when Jax ended things with her, but she’d managed to glue the pieces back together. They were uneven, and there were places that couldn’t be patched, but she’d done it. Then she broke again when Grandpa died, and once again when Grandma passed last month. But this… losing Snickers would be the final straw, she knew as well as she knew her own name.

Jumping as she felt Jax take her hand and squeeze, she glanced at him to find him smiling reassuringly at her. “I swear to you, we’ll find him, Piper. I swear.”

She just nodded, unable to find the energy to speak or even take her hand out of his. The human contact felt nice, and she needed it. She didn’t care who it came from. She would just ignore the heat and awareness spreading through her.

They were nearing her house when she heard the sound of a dog barking. “That sounds like Snickers,” she said, straightening in her seat. “There he is! At the house,” she said, relief and excitement filling her when she saw him pawing at the front door. They parked, and she threw open the door, bolting out of the truck. “Snickers!”

Brow furrowing when he continued to paw at the door, she scowled as Jax put his hand on her arm. “Wait a second, Piper.”