Worth Fighting For (Fighting to Be Free 2)

“Ellie, please? You won’t even know I’m there, I just want to pay my respects,” I pressed.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times, her face undecided, but before she could answer, a car pulled up at the end of the alley, my black BMW i8. Ellie and I both looked up at it at the same time. I held up one finger to Carl, who rolled down the window and nodded to me in understanding before rolling it back up again.

“Who’s that?” Ellie asked.

“My driver. I’ve asked him to take you and Stacey home, I just wanted to talk to you first.” I sighed and walked over to the metal door, banging my fist on it a couple of times. Moments later, the door swung outward, and I nodded to Ed, who was on the other side. He turned and motioned with his hand, and then a blur of blonde head shoved past me, deliberately bumping me with her shoulder as she stormed past, her face like thunder.

“Ellie!” she cried, going straight to her side and wrapping an arm around her shoulders before turning back to me. “You’re an absolute asshole; I have half a mind to call the cops and tell them you held me there against my will.”

Ellie frowned, looking between the two of us. “What?”

I raised one shoulder in a half shrug. “Carl will take you two home.”

Stacey made some sort of snort and looked away from me distastefully.

I reached for the two girls’ coats, which Ed was holding, and turned, passing them to Ellie, who smiled gratefully, slipping on hers and passing the other to Stacey.

“Thanks,” Ellie muttered, turning toward the car, pulling Stacey along with her.

“Hey, Ellie?” I called to her retreating back. She turned, her red-rimmed eyes curious. “You didn’t say if it was okay for me to attend the funeral or not.”

Stacey’s scowl deepened, but Ellie sighed and nodded. “You can come to the service, but I don’t want you back at the house. It’s three p.m. Friday at Everglade Drive.”

I smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

I watched them get safely into the car and drive off before I turned back to Ed, who was still standing in the doorway. “The Salazars still here?”

“Yep. Dodger is with them. Mateo wanted to wait until you got back, apparently,” he replied, holding out a paper towel to me. “Your hand is bleeding.”

I nodded, taking it, and dabbed at the small cut that had opened up on my knuckle as I followed him back into the club. The music drummed around me as people danced and laughed, completely over the incident that had happened a few minutes before. I walked past a guy with his arm around a girl, a big grin on his face, and a wave of envy hit me. All around me people were with friends and lovers, and I was alone, as always. A week ago—hell, just four days ago—I wouldn’t have even noticed this couple, but now here I was jealous of the guy because he had his girl and I didn’t.

As we wove through the crowd, I spotted Dodger standing off to the side, talking to one of our crew. When he saw me he came over, his face a mask of concern. “Hey. All right, buddy?”

I nodded and looked past him to the Salazars, who were still sipping whiskey, though the bottle was now almost half gone. Sitting with them was the guy I’d knocked unconscious; he seemed a little dazed as he held a rag to his nose to stanch the blood flow.

“Come with me,” I instructed. Dodger and Ed followed me to the table, and both the Salazar brothers looked up in unison. A slow grin spread across Mateo’s face, his eyes locked onto mine, his posture slumped cockily in the chair.

“Why are you still hanging around? Was there something I forgot to say?” I snapped, looking at each of them in turn. The guy with the bloodied rag flinched in his chair, shying away from me. I turned back to Alberto. “This meeting is over. Take your prick of a friend who thinks it’s okay to degrade women and get the hell out of my club. I don’t want to see any of your scumbag dealers in my establishments again, you hear me?” My voice was thunderous, livid. I wanted this night over; I wanted the guy who dared put his hands on Ellie out of here before I finished what I’d started.

Alberto sighed and stood, and the other two followed suit immediately. He didn’t speak as he turned and walked off, signaling for his crew to leave, too. I stood still, raising my chin and watching them carefully.

Mateo stopped in front of me, a huge smirk on his face. “Looks like Kid Cole does have a weakness after all.”

I saw red again. Fuck, I saw all colors. Anger so extreme I could almost taste it flowed through me, and I reached out and grabbed him with both hands, yanking him closer to me. My face was so close to his I could see his pupils dilate and feel his whiskey breath on my face. “If you even look too long in her direction, I swear to God, I will beat you into the fucking ground,” I growled, tightening my grip. “Don’t fucking try me. I’ll kill you, but first I’ll kill your brother and make you watch,” I promised.

Alberto had come up behind Mateo, pulling on his shoulder, his expression concerned as he tugged his brother away from me and toward the exit. Dodger was holding me in place, obviously feeling the volatility of the situation, too. The whole time, I keep my eyes locked on Mateo’s, letting him know I was serious. If he went anywhere near Ellie, I would ruin him; I would rip his fucking heart out.

CHAPTER 12

ELLIE

ELLIE, DARLING, ARE you awake?” Nana called from downstairs.

I groaned and squinted at the clock on my nightstand. Just after seven. “Yeah,” I replied, propping myself up on one elbow, hoping she’d hear me even though my voice was barely above a croaky whisper. “I’ll be down in a minute.”

I hadn’t managed to get much sleep last night; my nerves had been fried, my emotions jangled. All I’d been able to think about was Jamie and how it felt to see him again. It was painful. It brought back a lot of memories that I had buried so deep inside I didn’t think they’d ever resurface, but somehow they managed it as soon as my eyes locked on his. My mind had been whirling ever since, replaying things he said, things he didn’t say, the way he looked at me, the way his lips felt against mine. I’d lain awake for hours on end, thinking about what a good thing we’d had and how much it had hurt when I found out he’d cheated on me and we’d broken up. I’d never felt pain like that before. I hadn’t realized one person could crush you and your spirit with just a few simple words.

Everything was still bubbling inside me, my feelings swirling around to make one big jumbled mess. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it last night when Stacey had tried to get me to open up in the back of the car, but now I was wondering if that had been a mistake. Maybe talking about it instead of bottling it up would have helped.

But how would I have put my feelings into words? I didn’t even know what I was feeling or why.

Before last night I’d thought I was over him. I’d thought I’d finally come out the other side of that dark, long tunnel, but maybe I wasn’t mended completely. I guess I couldn’t be, because there was still a part of me that was unwilling to open up entirely—even with Toby I always guarded myself a little, afraid of what might happen if I gave all of myself to someone else. I’d been there before, I’d loved Jamie unconditionally and with no exceptions. He’d scarred my heart irrevocably, so I didn’t know how to fully trust another man. He’d taken so much from me, made me guarded, so frightened of being hurt again, it even managed to taint my relationship with Toby.

Another wave of anger washed over me at the thought. I couldn’t remember the last time one person had made me so furious. It was almost as if everything I felt, Jamie managed to magnify somehow. This level of powerful emotion—either good or bad—seemed to be limited to him.

I blew out a big breath and squeezed my eyes shut, deciding to just forget the meeting ever took place. I had enough to deal with; I didn’t need to be thinking about an ex-boyfriend who pretended to care about me but didn’t. I pushed myself up to sitting, unclenching fists I hadn’t even realized I had made, and looked down at crescent-shaped marks my nails had left on my palms. Jamie had taken eno

ugh from me; I wouldn’t allow him another moment of my time, I decided.

Swinging my legs out of bed, I grabbed a robe and headed out, following the pleasant scent of bacon and coffee downstairs. I stopped short when I saw Kelsey seated at the kitchen table; she was already dressed and her schoolbag was propped on the chair next to hers. She hadn’t been to school this week—she hadn’t wanted to, so I’d called the school and explained on Monday that I wasn’t sure when she would be in.

I cleared my throat, smiling softly when she looked in my direction, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Morning,” I said, hoping for more than a grunt and her walking out of the room, which was what I’d been subjected to the last five days.

Her head nodded in acknowledgment, and then she turned her attention back to her breakfast and iPhone. Nana turned, smiling warmly as she picked up the coffeepot, pouring me a cup. “Morning. Hungry?” she asked.

I gave a half shrug and sat down on one of the empty chairs. “A little.” I turned to Kelsey. “Are you going to school today?”

Her eyes flicked up to mine. “Better than sitting around here doing nothing,” she replied, her voice clipped and tight.

I nodded, smiling at my nana when she put a steaming hot cup of coffee in front of me. “I think it’s a good idea. It might help you get a little normalcy back,” I said thoughtfully.

“Normalcy? What part of this is normal to you?” Kelsey snapped, scowling.

“I didn’t mean normal,” I backtracked, scrambling to explain my meaning. “I meant that it might help you to be around your friends, get some routine back. Being busy will help you too, that’s all I meant.”