Worth Fighting For (Fighting to Be Free 2)

deserve to feel like my heart had been ripped out? Did I deserve to cry myself to sleep for a year? Did I deserve to always feel like something was missing inside me, even now?

Anger, burning like lava, coursed through my veins. “Wasn’t that my decision to make?” I shouted, yanking my hand from his and getting to my feet, needing some personal space. He’d hurt me so badly and my hand was itching to ball into a fist and smash into his face, just so I could cause him a fraction of that pain in return. “This was just like when you kept your past from me and didn’t tell me about your sister. Yet again you took the decision away from me, thinking you were doing what was best. You were wrong again, Jamie! I went through hell because of that phone call. It took me ages to get over you and what you said to me!”

Maybe I still wasn’t over it—it sure felt like I wasn’t. The pain was still there; looking at him, I could feel it washing over me. And now to know I hadn’t even had to go through it—I was so livid I could barely stand still. For three years I’d believed this was all my fault, that me doubting him over whether he’d killed his sister, Sophie, was what made him realize he didn’t want to be with me, and now I found out it wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do. I wasn’t even sure how to come to terms with this new piece of information.

He stood too, holding his hands up in a calm down gesture. “I’m sorry. I really thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“Well, you weren’t!” I screamed, throwing my purse onto the sofa roughly just for some sort of release. I pointed an accusing finger at him. “You didn’t want to fight for our relationship, that’s what it was. You were afraid to ask me to wait. What happened? Was I not worth fighting for?” My voice broke, my breath hitching with sobs.

A look crossed his face, a fierce determination flashing in his eyes as he stepped forward, cupping my cheeks, our bodies brushing gently where he was so close, causing my heart to jackhammer in my chest. His thumbs brushed across my cheeks softly, wiping away my tears as they fell. “You’re worth dying for,” he whispered, his eyes soft and tender as they met mine.

A lump formed in my throat. That kind of sweet, corny line from his lips used to make me swoon, and if I was honest with myself, it still kind of did.

His words hung in the air as we looked at each other, inches apart, his hands cupping my face. So many unspoken thoughts and feelings transmitted between us as I stared into his eyes, losing myself there as my body’s urges slipped back to the past, longing for him to lean that little bit farther in, to place those soft lips against mine and claim my mouth in a scorching-hot kiss that set my body alight.

“So you did want to come with me?” I asked, my mind finally wrapping around what had happened.

He nodded quickly. “More than anything.”

I sighed. “You hurt me so much.” Somehow those words didn’t even cover the grief and loss I’d suffered.

“I know, and I’m so sorry for that. If I could take it back...” He trailed off, tearing his eyes away from mine and staring down at the floor.

“Would you?”

One of his shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I don’t know. The selfish part of me says yes straightaway. The part of me that loved you so deeply it was painful, the part of me that still would die for you in an instant, wants to go back in time and tell you the truth, beg you to wait so we could make the life we wanted when I was released. But the reasonable, caring part of me that wants the best for you would probably still make the same call. I don’t deserve you, Ellie. I never did. Even if I had a thousand years to repent for all the shit I’ve done, I still wouldn’t deserve you.” He looked up at me, his eyes showing his sincerity.

And God help me, just like that, I swooned internally. “That was so corny,” I said. I couldn’t help myself.

“I still got it then, huh?” He grinned, the beautiful smile that I always used to think was reserved only for me, and that dimple appeared on his cheek. And oh, how I’d missed that dimple. My finger twitched, longing to reach out and trace my finger over it, but I resisted. Despite everything, I smiled and rolled my eyes.

Knowing I needed to get control of myself and stop letting him turn me into a giddy little schoolgirl, I stepped back, and his hands dropped down to his sides. His eyes never left mine, stripping my defenses, melting my anger and hurt into a puddle at his feet. I wanted to stay mad at him, to blame him for hurting me so much when he should have let me make the decision myself as to what I wanted to do.

I could understand why he had done it, though. Jamie was selfless. He’d also never seen the good inside himself or felt he deserved anything good in life. Not wanting to ask me to wait for him all stemmed from his horrible childhood and not feeling worthy of love or affection. He’d already said it himself—he thought he wasn’t good enough for me. He was wrong, oh so wrong. I thought I’d convinced him he was worthy of loving and being loved in return, but clearly I hadn’t or he wouldn’t have taken it upon himself to make that decision for me.

“I still don’t understand why those guys tried to grab me, though. Who are they to you?” I asked.

He sighed and sat down, patting the seat next to him. “It’s kind of a long story. You want to sit?”

I sighed and perched on the edge of the cushion, keeping enough distance between us that I could keep my concentration firmly on what he was saying and not have flashes of us writhing together while hot and sweaty.

He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as though he didn’t want to look at me. “I was in jail for a year and a half, and at first I had every intention of finding you and telling you the truth once I was out; I held on to that for a long time before I finally accepted that things would never work out how I wanted. But as time went on and I was in there day after day with all those people, I realized that you were just better off without me. You were away traveling, living your life, and I had no right to come in and be a part of all that again. By the time I got out, I figured I had nothing left to be good for. You were gone, Sophie was gone, and I had no qualifications and nothing going for me other than my reputation. I guess when I was released I just used what I knew best. Brett had left me some money in his will, so that helped, and my reputation made people want to take a risk on me. Over the last year and a half I’ve built my organization to be one of the biggest of its type in New York. The Salazars are one of my rivals. They were at the club last week when we had our...exchange.” He chewed over the word, struggling to find the best one. “I guess they saw you as a way of getting to me.”

My mouth had gone dry. Jamie was now leading his own crew, even though he’d fought so hard to leave all of that behind him? I hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth at all. I knew he had changed, that was easy enough to see. But to abandon everything he’d said to me and immerse himself in a life he claimed he hated? I hadn’t realized he’d changed quite that much.

He looked up at me, his eyes pleading with me to understand. I could also see regret and shame, like he was embarrassed to be admitting it to me. “These people, the Salazar brothers and their organization, they’ve got no morals. They don’t care who they hurt to get what they want.”

“And you’re different?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

A frown lined his forehead as he nodded. “Yeah. I mean, most of my work tends not to be violent. There are times when I have to do things I don’t want to, but we’re nothing like them. Our main priority has always been the cars.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “This can’t be the real you, Jamie. You can’t have changed that much in a couple of years.”

He smiled boyishly. “I love it when you call me Jamie. No one calls me that anymore.” He sighed sadly. “In a way, Jamie went into prison, but Kid Cole came out. This is who I am now.” He gave a resigned shrug, but his eyes betrayed him. I could see the sadness there, the longing for something different that he was trying so hard to hide—even from himself.

“I don’t belie

ve that, I see it in your eyes. There’s good in you. You’re a good person, you always have been. It’s just that circumstances have always been against you,” I protested. “Before, you had a reason to fight against what people thought of you; I think you’ve just lost your way. It’s easier to conform and be what’s expected than to change, I know that. My whole life through high school, I was trying to be someone I wasn’t just because it was what was expected of me. Then I met you and I realized I could be the person I wanted to be, screw expectation or reputation, I could do whatever I wanted.”

His frown deepened. “And what exactly did you want that was so against what people expected?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “You.”

Silence followed as his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I fought for you. I fought against people who believed I was better suited to the school jock. I fought against my mother, who told me over and over you weren’t good enough for me. I fought so hard for you because I saw the good in your heart. I still do, even if you don’t. You should have fought for me, too. Things could have been so different. I loved you; I would have understood, and I would have waited for you to get out. We could have made a life together, Jamie.” That hurt to say because it was so true. I would have waited until the end of the world for him, and then we could have had our happily-ever-after.

“It’s too late now, I suppose?” he asked, his hopeful eyes boring into mine.

I wasn’t expecting that response, and my body automatically recoiled from shock. “I...I’m...” I wasn’t even sure what I wanted to say to finish that sentence.

“Engaged. I know. And he’s a good man,” he finished my sentence for me, and then a fierce determination crossed his face. “But do you love him like you loved me?”