The Girl Worth Fighting for (The Girl #2) Read online

Page 4


  Logan’s smile grew into a grin, resulting in Rainey putting her one free hand on her hip.

  “You know what I want. I’ve made myself crystal clear. More than once.”

  She clenched her teeth. “So have I.”

  “I don’t think you have, baby.” Her eyes narrowed on him further at hearing the endearment. He moved in closer, trapping her between him and the couch.

  “Um,” he heard murmured from beside him, from Ashley he thought. But he ignored it as he lifted his hand and cupped Rainey’s cheek, then kept moving it until his hand was in her hair at the back of her neck. Rainey froze at his touch, something he had anticipated. Then she tried to get out of his hold and started moving sideways, also something he had anticipated. He tightened his hold on her neck and pulled her into him, all the while holding her eyes, telling her he understood, that he knew she was scared of getting hurt, but that it didn’t matter. That he was done holding back and giving her time, that he was going to stake his claim right here, right now, and that from that moment on she was going to be his. That he promised to not hurt her like she had been hurt before, that there was no reason to be scared. He had no idea if she could read him like he hoped she could, but she had also stopped pulling away, so he took that as a good sign. He pulled her closer still, that one last inch that separated them, and his mouth was on hers, kissing her. He didn’t go easy. He gave her a full-on, no-holds-barred wet and deep kiss. As soon as his tongue touched hers, he knew deep in his soul that this woman was the one. Rainey was his and he was hers. There was no doubt. It was like an electric shock was running though his tongue and expanded through the rest of his body. He was extremely aware of the fact that his body was reacting accordingly and did everything he could to control himself, since they were in public, surrounded by teenagers, at her place of work. Which was extremely difficult to do when her tongue started tangling with his and her hands had come up to hold on to his biceps for dear life.

  He had her.

  He knew it.

  Fuck, yes.

  He deepened the kiss for a few more moments before he let go of her mouth, nibbling at her lip as he slowly pulled away. He didn’t go far, just far enough so he could see her eyes. They were closed. Her face was completely relaxed, but he could see longing on it.

  Fuck, yes.

  He had his answer.

  Her eyes opened and they were heavy—heavy with lust. His dick stirred in his pants once more.

  Not yet, buddy. Not here.

  “Now you’ve made yourself clear.” He knew his words would bring her back to reality, that they would bring back his firecracker, but he didn’t care. He wanted her to know he knew she wanted him, that he knew their kiss had affected her, that he didn’t give a shit who saw or who knew. In fact, he wanted everyone to see and know that from now on, they were an item. A very serious item. The most serious there was. Before his words had the chance to completely sink in, he lightly kissed her forehead, then dropped his hand and stepped back, turned around, nodded to Jesse who had been one of the teenagers sitting with Rainey and who got up to follow him with a knowing smirk on his face, and left the room, heading straight out the front doors to his truck. But not before he heard several voices in the room say,

  “Holy shit.”

  “That was some kiss.”

  “I think he likes you, Rainey.”

  He also heard a couple of sighs.

  But the murmured words that brought a shit-eating grin to his face were, “Fucking hell.”

  And they came out of Rainey’s mouth.

  Chapter 4

  Ten Years Ago

  Four weeks after the fight

  “DON’T, SARAH. DON’T TELL ME you know what I’m going through. You have no fucking clue what I’m going through! Are you a boxer? An athlete? Do you know what it feels like to work your ass off, to accomplish your dream, then lose it and be dragged through the press? Huh? No! You don’t! So don’t pretend you do! You don’t know shit!”

  “Keep your voice down. Rainey is upstairs,” I heard my mother hiss.

  “Like she doesn’t hear us fight every day. Newsflash, Sarah. She knows exactly what is going on here. She’s not dumb.”

  “And what is going on here exactly? You drinking your ass off every day and then falling asleep on the couch? You need to wake up. Rainey needs you. She misses you and she needs you. We both do.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  Then there was silence until my mother said quietly, her voice shaking, “You’re breaking my heart. And you’re breaking your daughter’s heart. Wake up and stop this before it’s too late.”

  “Is that an ultimatum?”

  “Not yet. But I won’t let you do this to Rainey for much longer. I won’t stand by and watch you scare and hurt her. We gave you time to come to terms with what has happened—”

  “ I lost, Sarah! I lost my fucking title! I am nothing now!”

  “You’re still my husband. You’re still Rainey’s father. I understand—”

  “There you go again with your fucking understanding. You can fucking shove your fucking understanding up your fucking ass!”

  Then there was nothing but the sound of muffled sobs coming from downstairs. Less than a minute later, I heard the front door slam shut and an engine start.

  I was in my room, sitting on the floor with my back against the door, my arms wrapped around my legs, my forehead pressed against my knees. Every night since the night of the fight had been the same. Since the moment my dad had come home after he lost his championship title.

  Mona had taken me home before I could see my father, but I had refused to go to bed, wanting, needing to see him, to comfort him, to tell him that it didn’t matter, that I was still proud of him and always would be. Most importantly, I had needed to see he was okay. That he wasn’t beaten too badly, that he would recover quickly. I had needed that reassurance even after we had been told by one of his trainers he was conscious and everything looked all right. Yes, he was battered and bruised and had been knocked out cold, but there was nothing to worry about. My mom was with him and would bring him home after he got checked over thoroughly. That news had released some of the anxiety I had felt, but it wasn’t enough. I had to see him and hug him. I needed it.

  But that wasn’t what I had gotten when my mother and father finally walked through the front door after I had waited, sitting on the stairs next to Mona, for over two hours.

  Yes, I had seen him.

  But he wouldn’t let me get close enough to hug him.

  I had tried, had rushed toward him as soon as the doors had opened, but he had caught me by the shoulders and had kept me at arm’s length.

  “Not now, Princess. I need some time,” is what he said without looking at me. No reassuring hug, no smile, no wink. Not even a squeeze to my shoulders. Nothing.

  He had dropped his duffel bag in the hall and had disappeared into his office, where he promptly got drunk.

  How did I know this?

  After my mother had given me the hug I had so desperately needed from my father, she had brought me upstairs, holding me close and whispering in my ear.

  “Don’t worry, honey. He’ll be okay. Losing a fight is never easy. Losing an important fight like that is especially hard. Not just on the body, but on the mind. Give your dad some time to wrap his head around what happened. I promise he’ll be fine and he’ll regret he didn’t kiss you goodnight. But don’t be mad at him. We have to support him now, be there for him.”

  She was right, of course. My mother was mostly always right. Both my father and I knew this, even if we didn’t always admit it. My father and I were two peas in a pod, always getting in trouble and getting caught, then blaming each other. My mother took it all in stride, but also didn’t hold back when she thought we went too far. She gave good lessons, lessons that always came from the heart.

  So trusting her to be right, I snuck out of bed when I couldn’t go to sleep and went to his office. I knew he was still
in there, because I could see the light beneath the door. I didn’t knock. I didn’t think I would have to. He had never asked me to. But after I saw what I saw and heard what I heard, I wished I had knocked. At least then my dad would have known I was there and would have had the chance to send me away. Or maybe I wouldn’t have opened the door when he didn’t answer. I don’t know.

  But I didn’t knock.

  I turned the knob and opened the door slowly, thinking maybe he had fallen asleep at his desk or something. Though somehow I knew that wasn’t the case. There was a dreadful feeling growing inside my stomach, a feeling that I couldn’t interpret. All I knew was that I was nervous. And a little scared. Which I had never been when I was close to my dad. When I opened the door wide enough to see his desk, I saw his chair was empty. I opened the door further and saw him standing by the window, his head hanging low. I couldn’t see his face since his back was toward me, but I could see he was holding a bottle in his right hand. His other hand was blocked by his body, but it looked like he was staring down at something while he was weighing it in his hand. Then without any warning, he turned his body sideways and swung his arms, releasing what he had been holding in his hand, and smashing it into the glass cabinet on the far wall that held most of his trophies and photographs. There was a loud crash and glass was flying everywhere. I screamed, but my dad didn’t stop. He swung again, his other arm this time, and smashed the bottle into the other cabinet, breaking that one as well. It was so loud, I couldn’t hear my own voice when I screamed at him to stop.

  “Dad! Stop! Daddy, stop! Stop!”

  He didn’t. When he turned around fully and I could see his face, I froze mid-scream. His face was bruised and swollen, but that wasn’t what frightened me. It was the look in his eyes, the torture, the absolute fury that took my breath away. This wasn’t my father, my gentle and sweet daddy.

  This person was someone else.

  Someone I didn’t know.

  Someone I didn’t want to know.

  Someone who scared me to death.

  I took a few steps back as I shook my head in disbelief and denial. The movement must have registered with him, because he suddenly stopped and turned fully toward me. There was a flicker in his eyes, a flicker of something I again couldn’t interpret, before his face closed down and all that was left was anger and pure, cold fury. It scared me. Yes, in that moment, for the first time in my life, I was scared of my father. The tears started rolling down my cheeks as I kept retreating until I felt arms coming around my shoulders from behind and the sweet scent of my mother’s perfume hit my nose.

  “Out! Both of you! Get the fuck out of here!” my dad roared. I turned on my heel and fought my mother’s hold on me, then sprinted to my room, not stopping until I was hiding under my blanket. My heart was beating in my throat and my breathing was heavy.

  And I was crying.

  Hard.

  I was devastated.

  And terrified.

  Now as I was sitting with my back to the door a whole month later, listening to my father yelling at my mother yet again, I was still sad and devastated, but I wasn’t as terrified as I had been that night.

  No.

  That fear was slowly turning into something else.

  It was turning into anger.

  Chapter 5

  Rainey

  I WAS RAVING MAD.

  Not just at Logan for pulling that shit, but at me for letting it happen, for not doing anything to stop him even though I had known or at least suspected what he had been up to, for giving in and kissing him the second his tongue touched mine.

  And for liking it.

  For liking how his tongue had felt against mine. For liking how claiming and promising his kiss had felt.

  Which was stupid of course. I didn’t want to be claimed. Or promised anything. By anyone. But especially not by Logan.

  Fucking hell, but he could kiss.

  Stop it, Rainey. Stop thinking about it. He is just some jerkface who sees you as a challenge because you keep refusing him, and he isn’t used to that.

  Right.

  I’d pretend it never happened. And if he brought it up, which I was a hundred percent sure he would judging by the smug look he’d had on his too handsome face when he left, I’d brush it off as a mistake, as something I didn’t want to repeat, as something not worth repeating. At all.

  Right.

  “Fucking jerkface,” I said to nobody when I unlocked my front door.

  “I hope it’s not me who you’re cursing under your breath.” I turned my head to see Ben sitting on my front porch swing. Now, what was he doing sitting there like that? Why was he waiting for me to come home? He lived next door and had a key. No need for him to lurk in the shadows like that. Unless something was wrong and he didn’t want to waste the ten seconds it took him to get from his house to mine when he heard me coming home. My insides started to churn with dread.

  Ignoring his comment, my mind on the panic that was starting to take over my body, I let go of the door and asked, “What’s wrong? Is Mom okay?”

  His eyes turned sad and he sighed as he got up from the swing and took the two steps it took him to stand right in front of me.

  Shit. Not again.

  He took both my hands in his, caught my terrified eyes, and said in a serious but gentle voice, “No, Princess. She’s not okay.”

  I closed my eyes and hung my head, trying to hide the tears that had sprung to my eyes. Ben was the only person who was allowed to call me Princess. I had fought it tooth and nail in the beginning, but he had fought back just as hard in his gentle and loving way. And even though hearing him call me his princess usually made my heart melt and made me feel loved, now, it did nothing but add to the sadness that was threatening to consume me.

  No, please don’t let this be happening. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose her.

  I shook my head. I had to stop thinking like it was a given I was going to lose her. She would fight. She was strong. She had won last time and she could do it again. But that’s why Ben had waited here for me, wasn’t it? Because he knew I would fall apart when I heard the news. He knew I would need a moment to collect myself and he had given that to me. I hated looking weak and I hated looking like I’d lost hope, especially in front of my mom. I had lost it before, had lost hope and had turned that hopelessness into anger, had taken it out on her when I was a teenager. She had taken it, never once raising her voice or making me feel unloved. She had done her best to fill that hole my father had left behind. To be the best mother she could be. And she was. To this day. And I had sworn to myself I would never lose it again. That I would be strong no matter what. That her and I were a team that nothing and nobody could ever break apart. I had reined in my anger and asked for her forgiveness.

  “You don’t need to ask for forgiveness, Rainey, baby. I’m your mother. You always have my forgiveness.” She was the best mom there was.

  And I was fucking terrified to lose her. The one person who loved me no matter what, the one person I could always rely on, the one person whose hug worked wonders and made all the pain in the world disappear.

  I took a deep breath, wiped the tears from my cheeks, and looked up at Ben. “How bad is it?” I asked, my voice little more than a whisper.

  He shook his head. “It’s not good, kiddo. The cancer is back, that’s all we know right now. The doctor is sending her for tests tomorrow. We’ll know more then.” His grave voice and the heavy sadness showing in his eyes told me he was scared for Mom just as much as I was.

  Ben was living next door when Mom and I moved in here just short of a year after we moved out of my father’s; so he’d known me since I was fifteen. I had fought him tooth and nail, but he had eventually worked his way into my heart. He was like a father to me now. Something that hadn’t been easy for me to accept, seeing as my real father had thrown my mother and me away after he lost the fight that dreadful night. I had known right away that Ben had fallen for my mother, bu
t I hadn’t learned until years later that my mother had fallen for him too, not as quickly, but she had come to love him deeply and had only held out because she hadn’t wanted to cause me any pain.

  They now lived together next door. My mother had moved in with him during her first cancer treatment four years ago when I was twenty-one. She’d had a bad episode after her second round of chemotherapy and had passed out while I was at school. It had scared the shit out of me when I had come home to find her lying on the bathroom floor, unconscious. Ben had brought up the option of moving her in with him, something he had hinted at for over a year before she even got sick, but she had refused because of me. It made perfect sense then, though, and my mother had agreed it would be the best solution for everyone since she refused to let me sit out for a year of school to take care of her.

  “That is not an option, Rainey. And that is final,” she had said. In the end, I had given in. I didn’t want to fight with her on top of her being so sick. So she had given me the house and had moved in with Ben so he could take care of her at all hours of the day. Ben was a web designer and worked mostly from home. It hadn’t been easy for me to let her go, even though it was only next door, but I knew they were right and I had wanted my mom to be happy.

  And she had been. Despite the cancer and her chemotherapy, they had been the happiest I had seen them together. It was like they could finally settle, knowing I was old enough to be on my own, knowing I approved of them living together. Which I would have done anyway, but my mother had had it in her head that she wasn’t gonna subject me to moving in another man. Not after what my father had done to us. It wasn’t that she thought Ben would do anything like that. It was just something she had been firm on.

  “Be honest with me. How bad is it?”

  He sighed once more before he answered. “Worse than last time.” His voice cracked on the last word, making the tears in my eyes well up again, then flow over and roll down my cheeks. Ben caught them and brushed them away with his thumbs. He pulled me into an embrace and we stood like that for a while, holding on to each other, taking and giving strength. After a few minutes, he kissed the top of my head, where he murmured, “I’m sorry, Princess, but we gotta pull ourselves together. Your mom is waiting.”