Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

My head was still spinning when I left the diner. Streetlamps shined down, twilight the deepest blue where it took to the sky, the Alabama air cooled by the shallow gusts of wind that blew through the quieted corridor, the shops lining the street shut down for the night.

I’d spent the entire day inside.

Working and cleaning and trying to process what Jenny Gunner had been trying to say. It’d felt like a warning. I’d pondered it until the windows had dimmed and darkness had begun to take hold.

I stumbled toward my Jeep parked at the street, my mind five miles away on that little house across from mine. I jerked back when I saw the man at Pepper’s windows, hands cupping around his eyes as if he were trying to get a better view inside through the tinted windows.

Slowly, he peeled himself back, ambled my direction.

Aaron.

Why was he looking in my restaurant?

Terror bottled in my throat, and I took a step back when he took one toward me.

He smirked, every slimy inch of his arrogant face lit in the lamps. This time, the asshole clearly knew who I was. “Well, Rynna Dayne. Thought you looked familiar before. Just couldn’t place you. You look good. Real good.”

He grabbed me by the wrist.

Something took me over. The fear gone, replaced by something fierce. I wrenched out of his hold. Disgusted. Anger burst free. “You didn’t recognize me? Why’s that? Because I wasn’t naked, letting you take advantage of me? Because I wasn’t following you around like a fool? Because I lost a few pounds? Which is it?”

He let loose a low, amused whistle. “Ah, I see the way you look isn’t the only thing that’s changed. Feisty. I like that.”

He went to touch my hand, and I jerked it back. “Don’t touch me. Don’t look at me. Don’t come around me. In fact, stay off this street. Don’t want to see you in front of this diner ever again.”

I ducked around him, trying to keep it together, pretending as if I weren’t shaking all over the place. I was seconds away from coming unglued. Unhinged.

A chuckle rumbled from his mouth, and he looked back at me, shaking his head. “Always in Janel’s way, aren’t you? Brave girl. Just wonder who she’s going to hurt most this time.”

I whipped around. “What did you say?”

He just smirked then he turned and sauntered down the street.

By the time I made it home, I was trembling so hard I could barely see. I killed the engine and sat in the darkness of the cab. I clutched the steering wheel, sucking in breaths.

What was I supposed to do?

What did any of this mean?

I forced myself out into the night. Wind gusted and worry climbed through every inch of my body. Despite all my efforts, my attention tuned to his house. It was lit, all the windows shining with a soft yellow glow.

Janel’s car was in the driveway, but Rex’s truck was gone.

At least there was some comfort in knowing they weren’t together. It was Friday night, so Rex would be at the bar and Frankie would be spending the night with her grandma, who so obviously had Frankie’s best interest at heart.

I forced myself up the steps, across the porch, and fumbled to get the key into the lock. The door swung open.

Dread echoed back from the silence.

God. I was losing it. I had to be.

But everything felt . . . off.

I swore a disorder tumbled through the air, a disturbance ricocheting from my grandmother’s walls that hadn’t been there when I’d left this morning.

I flicked on the light. Eyes jumping around. Calculating as I took everything in.

Nothing seemed out of place. But my gut? It warned me someone had been there.

Fear slithered beneath the surface of my skin, and I stepped all the way inside and locked the door. I went into the kitchen and flicked on the light.

Empty.

I was alone. Somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better. I warmed up some leftover pot pie in the microwave and sat down at the table by the window. It was like sand in my mouth, but I forced it down since I hadn’t eaten in days.

Forty minutes later, a loud engine rumbled down the street. Approaching. Coming closer.

A frenzy climbed to the air.

Awareness.

Confusion.

Dread.

Headlights sliced through the darkness before Rex’s big truck turned into his driveway, way earlier than I’d have expected him to.

That frenzy roiled.

The breath got locked in my lungs when he finally stepped out, and I couldn’t look away as I watched him, his head drooped between his shoulders as he ascended the porch steps and made his way inside.

My eyes squeezed closed, and I pressed my hand over my heart.

God. What was I supposed to do?

36

Rex

I sat at the bar, tossing back beer after beer. Olive’s was packed, same way as it was every Friday night. Hoards of people were out living it up, having the time of their lives, their laughter and voices and conversations ringing out.