Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

More tears streaked from the warm well of those shimmering eyes.

My voice was gravel. “Never thought I could love like that. Not after Sydney. And I thought I’d gotten lucky. That maybe I’d been given another chance. So, I let myself love them both. Let them become the center of my world, just like they should be. I had my dog, Missy, and my girls, and we got this house and everything was fucking perfect.”

I blinked around the confusion. Around my mistakes. “Don’t even know where I went wrong. Working too long. Too many hours. Thinking I was doing what was right for them. And Frankie’s mom . . . she was suffering, and I didn’t even know it. I came home just as the sun was going down one night—”

I was numb as I stood by the side of the road, staring blankly as the taillights disappeared in the distance. I tried to blink through the squiggle of red, neon lines that lit up against my bleary vision. It was like looking at the sun and then closing your eyes. Or maybe I just wished they were closed. But they were open wide, my gaze sucked down.

Down.

Down.

Missy dead at my feet.

The words wouldn’t even form on my tongue, wounds ripped open wide. Gaping and bleeding. Garbling the confession because I just didn’t know what the fuck I’d done wrong.

Just didn’t understand.

Still didn’t.

And her hands. Rynna’s hands were on my face, and she was leaning on both her knees, wedged between mine, forcing me to meet her eyes. “She abandoned you and Frankie. That’s not your fault.”

“It doesn’t matter, Rynna. I still lost her. Every girl I’ve ever loved has left me. After Sydney disappearing? Anytime something happens to Frankie . . .” I fisted my hand, pressed it against the raging of my heart. “I’m terrified, Rynna. Terrified of her slipping away, too. Terrified of something horrible happening to her. If I lost her . . . fuck . . . I can’t. I won’t. I’ll die first before I let something happen to her. Do you get it now? Why I’m terrified of you? Why I’m terrified of the way you make me feel? This afternoon, I—”

Her words were muted but desperate. “I need you to listen to me. What happened this afternoon with Frankie wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t neglect. She was playing, loving the amazing life you’ve given her. Experiencing it the way she should. Living it to its fullest because that’s what she is. She’s life. She’s joy. She’s rambunctious and curious and perfect, and the last thing you want to do is limit that. You can’t keep her from falling, Rex, but you can be there to pick her up when she does. That’s what matters the most.”

My forehead dropped against hers, and I whispered into the darkness. “After Frankie’s mom left, I waited for her, Rynna. Waited because I thought that was what I was supposed to do.”

Loyalty.

Distorted and confused.

It spun around me like a bad fucking dream.

“Truth is, I didn’t want anyone, anyway. Didn’t want to repeat it. Refused to ever fall into that trap again.”

I gathered that gorgeous face between my hands. “And then there was you. There was beautiful you standing across the street, and every promise I’d made myself suddenly felt like a lie. You make me feel again, Rynna. You make me feel like every chance is one worth taking. Like you’re leading me out of the darkness that’s ruled my life. When I close my eyes, who I see is you. Show me the way, Rynna. Show me the way out of it. Fuck. Please, show me the way.”

She pressed her mouth to mine.

Hard.

“Rynna,” I moaned.

Fucking Rynna.

Little Thief.

29

Rynna

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the rocker groaned when Rex pushed to standing, taking me with him. He hiked me up into the strength of his arms, my legs immediately cinching around his narrow waist.

With one arm locked around my waist, he gripped me by the jaw with the other hand, controlling our kiss, ruling my mind where I disappeared into the abyss of this complicated man.

My spirit roared.

A thunder of grief and torrent of love.

I wanted to sing it. Sing it for him. For this man who’d lost so much and deserved every good thing the world had to give. Instead, I poured it into him. Into our kiss and into every desperate touch.

He gripped me tighter, wedging open the door, carrying me inside. With his foot, he held the door open, breaking away for the briefest flash when he called, “Milo, come,” his voice gruff.

My tiny puppy scampered past his feet, trotting right over to the bed Rex had set up for him in the corner of the living room, already knowing his place.

Then Rex got right back to kissing me. A hand wound up in my hair and the other locked around my waist.