Show Me the Way (Fight for Me 1)

The battery was dead.

“Shit.” I drummed my thumbs on the wheel, calculating just how long it would take me to get the battery charger out of the shed to juice this thing up, when my attention snagged in the rearview mirror.

The sleeping house behind us was bathed in a shallow pool of moonlight, the windows darkened and encased in silence.

The woman probably hated me.

At least she should.

I still couldn’t believe the dick move I’d pulled two nights ago, the way I couldn’t stop from pressing myself against her, taking a little bit of what I couldn’t have.

I knew better.

But I couldn’t stop after I had heard what’d gone down in Frankie’s room. That quiet understanding that had poured from Rynna, like she might actually have the ability to get what me and Frankie had been through. Like maybe she’d been through some of the same bullshit, too.

Goal had been nothing more than thanking her. But I’d gone and gotten stupid. Had gotten too close. Had touched her because I couldn’t stop myself.

Not when I was engulfed with her presence. Cherries and sugar. So goddamned sweet.

None of that mattered right then. The only thing that mattered was Frankie, who was moaning in the backseat, her head bobbing all over the place. Worst was I couldn’t tell if she was nodding off to sleep or truly coming in and out of consciousness.

Any loyalty I had didn’t come close to touching that.

I hopped out of the truck, wrenched open Frankie’s door, and had her back in my arms in the next second. With one arm holding her against me, I grabbed her booster seat and then strode across the vacant street.

There was no hesitation when I bounded up the steps and pounded on Rynna’s door.

I stood there, shifting my feet anxiously while I waited, that unease growing tenfold when I saw a light flicker on through an upstairs window. Thirty seconds later, footsteps were shuffling across the floor. I could almost feel her confusion when I sensed her peering out the peephole at us.

But the second she did, there was no delay, and she was tearing open the door.

Concern was written all over that face.

That goddamned striking face that made something inside me light up at the sight of her.

“Oh my God, Frankie Leigh.” It was whispered panic pouring from her pretty mouth. “What happened?”

Those java eyes darted to my face.

Worry.

Fear.

I forced down every convoluted feeling I had about her. “She woke up with a fever. My battery’s dead in my truck. Need to borrow your car so I can take her to the ER.”

“I’ll drive you,” she said instead of agreeing. The girl was already sliding on a pair of flip-flops that had been sitting by the door.

“That’s not—”

She held up a hand, cutting me off the way I had continually done to her. “She’s sick, and you’re obviously upset.” Her tone softened. “I’ll drive you. It’s not a problem.”

The part of me that always needed to prove that I could raise my daughter alone wanted to rear its head and fight her. I bit it back. Focused on the feeling of my daughter in my arms.

Frankie’s well-being was my only concern.

“Thank you.”

I should absolutely not be accepting this woman’s generosity.

Every fucking one of the reasons why surged to the forefront of my mind. Screaming at me why this was wrong. To watch the line I was toeing.

Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Rynna grabbed her purse and stepped out, still wearing what she’d obviously gone to bed in—a pair of thin cotton striped pants and a black tank.

I dropped my gaze. At least I managed to find the self-control not to watch the sweet sway of her luscious ass.

Guessed it was the little wins.

I followed her to her SUV, situated Frankie into her booster seat in the backseat, and climbed in beside my daughter.

I pretended I couldn’t feel the weight of Rynna’s worry when she kept glancing through the rearview mirror at us, pretended her concern wasn’t there, palpable in the air.

Pretended it didn’t mean more to me than it should.

I brushed back Frankie’s hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling the heat radiating off her, praying she was fine. I told myself every kid got sick. It was a part of life. But that didn’t mean my guts weren’t twisted. It didn’t mean the fear wasn’t there. It didn’t mean that every day of my life I wouldn’t be terrified of losing her, too.

11

Rynna

The big double doors Rex and Frankie had walked through three hours before swung open for what had to be the millionth time that night. I shot to my feet when this time it was finally Rex carrying out a sleeping Frankie in his arms.

The same blond-haired guy who’d been sitting with Rex at the bar on Friday night followed close behind them, and I had to do a double take when I saw he was wearing a pair of blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck.