Worth Fighting For (Fighting to Be Free 2)

I nodded, glancing over at Ray again, unwillingly replaying memories of the airport and the immense disappointment I’d felt at seeing him, not Jamie. My feet seemed glued to the ground as he and Jamie walked to my side.

“I just have to go take care of something. I won’t be long. Ray is going to take you upstairs and watch out for you while I’m gone,” Jamie said, leaning into the car and picking up my purse, handing it to Ray.

“I just want to go home. I don’t need someone to watch me,” I replied, trying to put some authority into my voice but failing miserably when it shook with emotion.

Jamie sighed deeply and stepped closer to me. Too close. I could take one step and melt into his body, wrapping my arms around him and hiding there until everything went away. The pull to do that was almost overwhelming.

“I can’t take you home, not yet. Ellie, those guys were after you because of me, so I need someone to protect you while I go take care of the thing I need to do. This is important,” he explained.

Those two guys had been targeting me? It wasn’t some random attack? And it was because of Jamie? None of this made sense. I glanced back at the dashboard, thinking about the gun and knife housed within, and swallowed awkwardly, a shiver running through me.

When something touched my shoulder, I started, my eyes darting back to Jamie. “I’ll be back soon and I’ll explain everything, I promise. Please just go upstairs with Ray, so I don’t have to worry about you. I need my mind focused right now. Please? Can you just do this for me?” His eyes implored me, the rich color hypnotizing me into submission, just like he’d always had the ability to do.

I nodded. I didn’t really have much choice in the matter. It was clear he wasn’t going to back down, and I didn’t have the strength left in me to continue standing, let alone argue my point.

Jamie smiled. “Thank you. I’ll see you soon and I’ll explain.”

Ray stepped forward, his hand wrapping around my upper arm, taking some of my weight as I stepped forward on wobbly legs. “Let’s get you upstairs and I’ll make you some tea. It’ll calm your nerves,” he said softly as I let him lead me blindly along.

As Ray stopped by the elevator and pressed the button to call it, I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Jamie had already climbed into his car. Our eyes locked through the windshield. I gulped at what I saw. Terrifying, murderous Jamie from the parking lot was back, and this time I wouldn’t be there to stop whatever he was planning to do.

CHAPTER 19

JAMIE

I COULD BARELY sit still as I drove away from my apartment, leaving Ellie with Ray. My hands flexed on the steering wheel as I scowled out the window, thinking about just how close I’d been to not saving her. I’d parked on the street at the side of the parking lot; I hadn’t thought there was any danger to her, so I’d let her park in the lot alone so she wouldn’t see me. If that second guy hadn’t sped past me and rushed into the lot, I never would have known anything was wrong.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” I growled, slamming my palm down on my steering wheel a few times in frustration. Rage burned through me at the memory of pulling into the lot to see that guy’s hands on her. I groaned, clenching my jaw and unclenching it, fidgeting in my seat and pressing my foot down harder on the gas. My anger was like a monster, clawing at my insides, demanding to be let out. And I would let it out, I didn’t care what she’d said. Mateo would die for this.

I drove in silence for a while, letting my rage simmer, and then I hit a couple of buttons on my car dash and the speaker started calling Dodger. He answered on the third ring. “Hey, Kid,” he said, his voice cheerful as always. Sometimes it pissed me off to high heaven.

“Dodge, two of the Salazars’ men just attacked Ellie and tried to kidnap her.” I almost spat the words, the acid of them tasting foul on my tongue.

“What the fuck? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Thank God. “But the two assholes who attacked her aren’t.”

“Who were they?” Dodger asked.

“I don’t know, but they were definitely Salazar crew. They had the ink.” My mind flicked back to the scene and the snake-and-dagger crew ink on the guy’s forearm. “Listen, I need you to do some things for me.” I checked my mirrors and signaled, heading south toward the nearest of my clubs.

“Sure. What?” I could hear him moving around in the background, probably getting to a place we could talk.

“I need you to call Detective Lewiston, tell him you have a couple of points of interest for him, but he needs to find his own source for the record to back up the story.”

I’d already thought through everything—I couldn’t hit everywhere at once—but I wanted the Salazars ruined, run out of town, or dead. To do that I’d need help. Detective Lewiston had proven useful before, and he would come in extremely handy for the next few hours.

“Okay, what am I telling him?”

“Tell him you know of three drug labs in connection with the Salazars. Give him the addresses of their labs in Greenwich Village, the Lower East Side, and the Bronx. Tell him the police should raid them as soon as possible because you’ve heard they’re packing them up and moving to new premises in the next couple of hours,” I instructed, pulling into the parking lot of one of the smaller clubs I owned. It was only an evening and weekend club, so would be closed this time of day. Perfect.

“Meantime, I’m heading to their meth lab in Long Island. I have a feeling Mateo might be there.” Reaching into the back of my car, I picked up my gym bag and opened it, pulling out an old tee that I kept in there to work out in. As I spoke, I ripped it in half with a loud shredding sound, and then in half again, my mind already focused on what I was going to do.

“If you’re going there, then pick me up,” Dodger affirmed. “I’ll come with you in case there’s trouble.”

I smiled at the gesture but shook my head, dismissing it. “There won’t be many people there, and the ones that are will most likely be high, anyway.”

“And Mateo,” Dodger added, his tone concerned.

“I can definitely handle that fuck stain,” I hissed. “Look, I gotta go. Make the call but tell Lewiston he’ll need to pay some hooker or druggie to validate his story and go on record saying they gave him a tip. It can’t come from us,” I instructed, impatient to take action.

“All right, I will. Give me the address where you left the two guys,” Dodger said. I reeled off the place where I’d left them and Dodger asked, “Are they dead?”

I closed my eyes, wishing they were and that Ellie had let me finish the job. “No.”

“Okay, I’ll have someone find them, too.”

“And have someone take Ellie’s car to her house. It’s the green bug.”

“Will do. Where is Ellie now, want me to have someone pick her up?” he replied.

“She’s at my place with Ray. He’ll watch her until I get back.”

“Okay, that’s good. I’ll go make the calls now. And, Kid, be careful, all right?”

“Yeah.” I disconnected the phone, climbing out of the car and heading to the back door of the club. I let myself in and stomped up the stairs straight to the bar, pulling out four bottles of whiskey. As I suspected, at this time of day no one was around.

That’ll be plenty, I thought, setting about customizing the bottles and then carefully setting them upright in my knapsack. Once satisfied I had everything I would need, I drove to my warehouse, swapping my car for one of the unmarked ones registered to a fake address and name so it couldn’t be traced. I quickly changed clothes too, putting on a hoodie and tugging the hood up over my cap just in case.

From there, I made the drive to the abandoned building where the Salazars cooked their shit, hoping Mateo was there so I could end it quickly. I wanted to get back to Ellie and tell her she was safe—and fucking mean it.

Pulling up at the end of the road, I got out and jogged down the street, hiding behind a small crumbling wall opposite their lab, edging up to get a

good view of the place, stopping next to a large scorch mark on the grass. Their burn pit, where they disposed of their chemicals. I turned my nose up in disgust and looked over the wall, surveying the area.

The large building opposite me was derelict looking; basically an old graffiti-covered tin shack with blacked-out windows. At one point this would have been a storage unit for an industrial company or something, but now it was used to make hundreds of pounds of crystal meth, or “ice,” as it was known on the streets.