The Greatest Fight of All (The American Soldier Collection 5)

Prologue

Amelia Jennings felt the anxiety of being back here. Back to a place she avoided, for the better part of the year. She was driving in her car and trying to find a parking spot closer to Sylvia’s apartment building. It was a crappy neighborhood, and everyone was out in the streets trying to stay cool. She recognized the faces and had the guilty feeling of thinking she was better than them now, and above their reckless street ways.

She felt her palms begin to sweat, even though she made the decision to come back here one last time before leaving New York for good. At least she hoped that it was for good. There wasn’t anything for her here. She needed a new life. Not one controlled by Mano.

The rap music was blaring on one end, where a group of young kids played in water running from the fire hydrant. On the other end of the street the Spanish music played. Combined, it all sounded so crazy to her. She didn’t want to walk the two blocks in between. She was nervous that Mano might spot her or worse, his brother Escala. Amelia had done a great job ignoring him for the past year, and had focused on her job and advancing. Now an opportunity had arisen. Sure, it wasn’t the best job, but it would pay the bills and give her the chance for the new life she needed so desperately.

She had nothing to say to Mano anyway. She never wanted to see him or speak to him again. As far as she was concerned, he could go straight to hell where he belonged.

As she finally found a spot, and debated about taking it, because she was heading farther and farther away from the

building, she made the decision to take the one that had just opened up. It was like a hundred degrees outside, and the apartment building where her friend Sylvia lived with her grandmother was within a block and a half. This was as close as she was getting today.

As she locked the doors, hitting the button on her key chain, she reminded herself that this would be her last week here in New York. The familiar scenery, friendly places she had frequented as a child, a young adult, and grown woman, would never be visited again.

She had taken the job in Houston, Texas, as a program coordinator for veteran programs inside the business center of the hospital. She knew a lot about that since she’d lost two brothers and her father to the military, in war, and to post-traumatic stress disorder.

She swallowed hard as the tears hit her eyes. She wished she could have helped them, but it was out of her control. Just like her life, and the way she’d allowed Mano to mistreat her and then cheat on her, rule her world, and ultimately nearly destroy her life. She could put her past, Mano, all his abusive ways, and his nasty attitude behind her. She survived hiding from him for a year. Leaving here, to never worry about looking over her shoulder, was her best option.

Amelia tried to submerge the images in her mind as they flashed into her thoughts. Mano was filled with attitude and aggression as he took his anger out in the boxing ring, and then one night he decided to use her as a punching bag. Drunk, naked in bed with two women, and somehow it was Amelia’s fault.

She shook her head.

Forget him. He lost his chance and life goes on. He never loved me.

She thought about her brothers, Kyle and Edward. They had made her life miserable. No matter how hard she tried to help them, to comfort them and offer a shoulder, or even just a hug, they shoved her away and broke her heart. They had been so damaged and destroyed inside, they could no longer open their hearts to emotions, to her being their baby sister, or acknowledging that they needed help. A nightmare that left her with no family, no one to love her, or to give love to.

That was how she wound up in trouble, and with Mano’s claws hooked into her.

Amelia focused on the positives of this move. It was like starting a new life. She didn’t have any family anymore, just Sylvia. Plus she would be closer to her best friend from college, Regan.

This move, this decision to leave for the unknown territory of Texas, was her destiny. No more abuse, no more heartache or fighting, just positive actions and positive results.

Amelia had graduated early then went on to achieve her master’s in business. She focused on work and not the sad and painful memories of her past. She put on a great face, just like she was doing now, as the neighborhood residents eyed her as she walked down the street.

Everyone had known her as Mano’s woman. The men stayed clear and the women, who lusted over Mano, struck her with daggers. They could have him. If only she’d realized Mano’s true colors sooner.

She ignored the whistles by the men standing around watching her. Even now, the women looked at her with hatred and disgust in their eyes. Mano had them all fooled. These street ways and the thug attitudes sickened Amelia.

She knew she stood out, with her well-dressed attire, long ebony hair, and dark sunglasses. She hid her eyes, submerging the fear she had coming back into this neighborhood and knowing what happened here.

“Amelia, what’s up, baby?”

She turned to the right a few doors down from Sylvia’s grandmother’s building.

Oh shit. Escala.

She tried to ignore Mano’s brother and walk on by, but no way would Escala let that happen. Nor would his buddies who hung out beside him. Where the hell did he come from anyway? He hadn’t been standing there on the street as she passed by. Someone must have notified him that they saw her looking for a parking spot.

He grabbed her arm and instantly she pulled it away and prepared to defend herself. She had been a victim too many times. No more. Never again.

“Whoa, honey, what’s the deal? I, like, haven’t seen you in a year. I wanted to give you a hug to say hello. Where you been hiding out?” He looked her over and licked his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth. He hissed as if she looked so fine he might just take a sample.

That was Escala.

He had a set on him and didn’t fear much. His military background added to his appeal, but she knew better than the women who flaunted themselves at him and Mano. Escala and Mano were discharged from the army on charges that were not exactly admirable. They were a disgrace to the uniform, and to everything a soldier stood for.

“I don’t have anything to say to you. I’m on a tight schedule. I need to go.” She started to walk when she felt the hand again, and then his arm wrapped around her waist. He pulled her hard against his chest as he wedged his thigh between her legs, shocking her.

She gasped as she grabbed hold of his arms.

This was how Escala and Mano acted. Like they could do what they wanted, when they wanted, and they didn’t have to answer to anyone. It was what got them in trouble, gave them their bad reputation, and ultimately it was what saved her from messing up her life forever. She’d come too close to being controlled and owned by these men. She had gotten away, and she needed to keep that wedge and distance despite her fears and feelings of inadequacy.

She felt his breath against her eyes. He was about six inches taller than her and slightly shy of six feet.

“A year away and you forget the rules.”

She felt her body shaking. Those were Mano’s words, not Escala’s. Mano always tried to dominate her in every way. He was such a prick. So was Escala.

“You don’t scare me, Escala.”

He squeezed her a little tighter then leaned forward and sniffed her neck.

“You should be scared, little lady,” he whispered then took a few easy breaths as he stared down into the dark shades of her sunglasses. They provided very little guard against his bold gray eyes. The man was intimidating and had a hell of a left hook when provoked.

His jet-black hair and the dark, scary skeleton tattoos on his arms were indicators of his evilness. Both Escala and Mano sported tattoos that weren’t beautiful or sexy in any way. They were scary. They signified death, lack of respect for authority, and pain.

“Mano’s not around. I’m sure if he were here, he’d want to talk with you. You look fantastic, chica.” She tried to pull away but his hold was firm.

He held her gaze with intensity and that expression that told her he was getting angry with her resistance.

“Let me go.”

He moved closer. She felt his hand on her hip bone as he gripped her there, hard.

She gasped and instantly felt the fear overpower the hatred she had for him. She wasn’t stupid. Escala was a mean son of a bitch when provoked and when intoxicated.

“You left without a word. He’s doing great boxing. Won a bunch of matches.”

Probably fixed, like the illegal ones you first set up in the military and underground at the hideouts.

“Like I care.”

“You’d be impressed. You should come by and see him fight. He’s got a fight Friday.” He caressed a strand of hair from her cheek and she turned away from him while pushing down on his forearms to release her.