Bringing The Fight

4.

* Jaxxen *

Buying Coralee outfits showcasing her full figure wasn’t the best idea I ever had—but also not the worst. Every time I look at her, my breathing hitches. Did she find the racy lingerie I secreted into her closet? I bought it before she explained Braden used to dress her in slutty clothes. I understand her addiction to fugly sweaters now.

In the morning we make breakfast side by side and I can’t resist kissing her exposed neck, inhaling in her sweet scent, pressing my front against her ass. She giggles, turning to kiss me, and the bacon burned while we made out against the sink.

When we eat in comfortable silence, the lingering disappointment I experienced after coming home to discover she took off makes my stomach curdle. I’m glad she was all smiles and laughs after our conversation when she came back, but couldn't accept that I didn’t frighten Coralee until she said it to my face. The last thing I want is for her to think I’m a control freak like Braden.

I should not have given her the sunflower necklace with a locator embedded in the metal, especially after hearing how that bastard planted one under her skin, but I did it for my peace of mind. Not telling her about it is a dickhead move, but I'll deal with her anger if she finds out. I’m no saint, justifying it as wanting to keep her safe. She’s not the first woman I’ve sought to protect, but comparing Coralee to my old flame isn’t fair to her memory.

I clear my thoughts saying, "Wylan’s rolling in tomorrow. Why don't we go into town and stock up?"

She looks away fiddling with her fork, "If that's what you want."

Apprehension rolls off of her in waves, and once again I remind her she has choices, "Hey, you can stay here. Just jot it down. I’ll pick up everything. I told you before Coralee, you’re free to do anything."

She visibly relaxes, still avoiding my gaze, “Your friend shouldn’t dig into my business. Could you… call him off?”

“No,” I hate she refuses to search for the man tormenting her, “Ignorance is not bliss. You’ll like him. Relax.”

Her jaw flexes and I hide a smile. She won’t win. Not this time. Sighing, I gather up the dirty dishes, cleaning up as she writes a grocery list. I’m eager to learn what Wylan uncovered. I know a little between what Coralee confessed and a vague report he sent my way. She’s in for the shock of her life.

"We’ll begin your training when I get back," I tell her, crossing my arms after pocketing the paper she wrote on.

She blinks in surprise, "Training?"

"Yes. Have you run before?"

She smirks, "For years."

Funny girl. I suppose I could have worded that better. "Exercise. It's important to build up your strength for long periods of endurance. Follow me."

Coralee gives me that cute frown-squint, biting her lip. I smirk at her coy pout, popping her lightly on the ass. She laughs, shoving my shoulder before following me outside. I open the door to the detached outbuilding. She takes in the gym equipment with interest.

"While I'm gone, I want you to do two miles on the treadmill," I wave a hand at the machine in the corner, "Later this week I'll show you the path I run on, but this will do for now."

Stepping over to the large hanging heavy bag, I point to a pair of wrists strap lifting gloves, "I'll order you a set, check them out. Questions?"

Her hazel eyes flit around the room, "Impressive. No wonder you're so fit Jax."

I nod in agreement, "You will be too. Catch you later, Sunflower."

I don’t wait for her response, heading into the house. In my bedroom, I lift the floorboard near the dresser, after pinning in the safe code, extract a few hundred bills before hiding it once more. I only use cash when in public.

When I pass the bedrooms, hear Coralee banging around, probably changing. Relief settles in my bones as I start up the Jeep, happy she’s into strengthening her body because I need her strong and self-reliant to keep up. Learning how to steer her in certain directions so she remains safe is a slow process, but I’m getting there.

The supermarket in Perla is the only one within a thirty miles radius, so selection’s crap. Before I go in, scan Coralee's request, smirking when I read she wants chocolate. Women. The ladies running the registers flirt with me when I make a rare appearance. I indulged them, in case I ever wanted a warm body, but ignore their blatant eye-f*****g.

I stock up on the beer Wylan enjoyed the last time we hung out. We haven’t met since I moved to Perla. I grimace, realizing I’m excited about the prospect of violence that is inevitably coming my way. I left that hard life because it tore my soul to pieces, but if I have to put men in the ground to help Coralee — won't hesitate.

"Hello, stranger," the tall redhead at the register purrs when I toss items onto the checkout counter, "That's a lot of food. Throwing a party?"

I grunt, turning to the impulse shelf behind me, grabbing a dozen different chocolate bars. The girl gives me an odd smile, but I ignore her. After I paid she tried to ask me some silly questions about the town’s upcoming annual rodeo, but I sauntered away without responding. I hold back a laugh when she mutters I’m an asshole, still staring at my ass. I wonder what Coralee would say if she knew how thirsty the women were around here.

Stopping by the only liquor store, I buy a few bottles of Jack Daniels and pause at the wine section. Coralee isn’t twenty-one, but I pick out a bottle of some fruity looking crap. She will learn a ton of bad news in less than a day and may need it.

"Hiya, Jax," the old-timer behind the counter greets with a crooked grin as if I pop in all the time, "Wine? Got yourself a woman, boy?"

I smile with a shrug, "It'll sit on a shelf. Never can be too prepared, right?"

“Ain’t that the truth!”

When I’m on the road again, I experience a pinch of regret I can’t tell anyone about Coralee. It’s like she’s a dirty secret, making me feel shitty.

Coralee’s still working out in the gym when I arrive, so hurry to unload and unpack the grocery before changing, sneaking through the door to observe her. s**t, she’s wearing a tight red top and leggings with new running shoes. I grow semi-hard when her breasts bounce as she runs on the treadmill.

"Not done yet?"

Coralee jumps, letting out a squeal as she loses her footing. I spring forward, shutting down the machine, wrapping my arms around her sweat-slicked waist. She giggles, her damp hair falling across my forearms. Coralee smells even better like this. I smirk, releasing her before reading the treadmills smart screen. She ran five miles.

"When I said catch you later — I didn’t mean literally," I wander over to the weightlifting set on the opposite side of the room ignoring the urge to touch her, "Ever lift?"

She makes that cute scrunched up frown, "No. What about my life made you think I lifted weights?"

I chuckle, "Right. Come, show me how strong you are."

I try to stay focused when she sits down on the bench, biting her plump lip. Shaking my head, moved to the weight rack, returning with two twenty-pound dumbbells, handing them to her. She listens as I coach her through the proper technique. Her biceps are fairly toned, but after five minutes they shake.

"Sweet setup," she pants when I retrieve the weights, "Are you going to teach me to fight?"

"Yes," I peek at my watch, "Why don't you shower and I'll do my workout before dinner?"

"Can't I stay?"

I pull her from the equipment, "No. You're quite a distraction, Sunflower."

Coralee licks her lips, which I take as an invitation to kiss. She exhales a moan, making me mad with lust. Her body aligns against mine perfectly. I slide one hand down to her firm ass, squeezing a cheek. When Wylan arrives, I’ll have to keep my distance. The thought makes me kiss her harder, and she shivers against my chest.

"I like it when you kiss me," she admits breathlessly when I break away, knowing we have to stop.

With a shrug, I nod towards the exit, "Same. You’re finished for the day. Go shower."

She tosses her long hair back, hazel eyes flashing with a warning, "So bossy. See you inside, Jax."

I ignore her comment because I will always be bossy, which she seems to thrive on. There are different types of control, but my intentions are not to push her into something she doesn’t want but to raise her up where she’ll beat the mangy dog chasing after her. I spend a good half hour on the heavy bag, planning the punishment I can't wait to dispense on Braden.

* * * * * *

I had forgotten women found Wylan attractive until Coralee gasped when he climbed out of his rental car the next afternoon. Her eyes widened, cheeks flushing that adorable pink. Her reaction amused me. She’ll soon figure out he’s an insufferable asshole.

"Hey," I shake his hand on the porch, "Thanks for coming. This is Coralee."

Wylan's blue eyes scan her once, "Nice to meet you," he holds up luggage.

I motion for him to follow, heading to the extra guest room that only has a bed inside. My house hasn’t seen this much company... ever.

I shut the door, "How long can you stay?"

Wylan dropped his suitcase on the floor by the closet, "Until she knows everything. I don't have a job right now. Coralee is a little young for you, Jax."

I smirk, "Meaning?"

"She's more my age."

I laugh humorlessly, "First of all, I'm helping her. Cut the ageist crap. She trusts me."

He didn’t seem convinced, "If you say so. Have you told her about your past?"

"What’s with the twenty questions? Let's get to it."

Coralee’s in the kitchen when we join her. Wylan places his bag on the table, then sorts files. She asks if we want something to drink, but I take out two beers. I’ll need a buzz in order to handle the tears she’ll spill. Coralee is strong. I saw her almost cry a few times, but she never did. She turned them into anger or reason instead. Tonight I’m certain she’ll become upset, but I will be here to build her back up.

"Sit down Coralee," I patted the chair beside Wylan, "We're going to go through some things, okay?"

She drops her hazel orbs to her mug of coffee, nodding. Wylan picks up a photo of a man with blonde hair, navy-colored eyes, sporting a perfect f*****g smile.

"Is this him?" his voice was gentle when asking.

Resting a fist under my chin, I silently observed. She curtly nodded. I spin the picture my way, noticing it was taken outside a restaurant. Braden sat alone, his relaxed expression knowing. As if he’s okay with being photographed. I quirk an eyebrow at Coralee, catching her eyeing me.

"He doesn't look like the devil, huh?" she rasps, sadness etched around her down-turned mouth.

I tilt my head, conceding, "They never do."

Wylan shifts in his seat and she frowns at his discomfort, "Cora, I found out something that will sound bizarre, but I swear it's true. The couple who adopted you weren't truthful. They were your handlers. Most likely until your eighteenth birthday."

Coralee looks completely confused, as am I, but I keep my face a flat calm, "Handlers? What does that mean?"

Wylan stabs a hand through his short brown hair before picking out another picture. This one is an older man in his sixties with classic Irish features. I hope I’m wrong about where this seems to be going. Coralee mentioned her parents paid protection money to the Conry family, and then Braden murdered them after they sold her, enabling him to steal her without conflict. The puzzle pieces lock into place, and my fists curl.

"Like it sounds. This is Patrick Conry, head of a criminal syndicate in Tucker City. Your actual father."

Coralee inhales sharply, "What? How do you know?"

"I just do. Your mom died when you were five, in a car accident. Patrick was already married and sent you to live with the Winters, paying them to take care of you until he could marry you off. I mean, that's what usually happens to the illegitimate daughters of men like him. The people you thought your parents bribed were in actuality ensuring your welfare. They received compensation to raise you."

Coralee stands up, covering her mouth. I straighten, ready to catch her if she falls apart. Her eyes burn with anger once more, withholding anguished emotions. f**k if I don’t love and hate how Coralee wars with herself.

She clears her throat, "I need a drink."

I jumped to my feet, "I bought wine."

She laughs, but it’s without mirth, "Get the whiskey."

I awkwardly pat her tense shoulder before going into the kitchen to grab a bottle and three glasses. I glance back in time to see Wylan cover Coralee's hand when she sits down. He whispers something to her, and my chest tightens.

I bang the glasses down on the table harder than necessary, and they jump apart, "If Patrick is her father, how did Braden manage to snatch her off the streets? Wouldn’t he search for her?"

“No one cared,” she whispered, and my heart broke a little for her, “Plenty of people witnessed my abuse, but whatever power Braden held over them caused them to turn a blind eye.”

“f**k them,” I seethed, “They better hope I never cross paths with their cowardly asses.”

Wylan flips through a few more photos as I pour drinks. Coralee weakly smiles in thanks before gulping the whole glass.

I refilled it asking, "Ever sneak shots at Toms?"

She shakes her head, "No. Braden would get me drunk before Enzo or his other friends came over. I can hold my liquor."

"This Enzo?" Wylan shoves a picture of a pock-marked looking thug forward.

"Ugly," I grunt, then swallow my shot.

"He is a f*****g pig," she swears.

I resist the urge to laugh, knowing Coralee will take it the wrong way. She doesn’t swear much, but glad she hasn’t given up her fire. "What do you have on him, Wylan?"

"He's a Romano. Italian. Second cousin or something. I figure he and Braden burned the Winters, faking Coralee's death to gain leverage. What kind — is the mystery. When she ran, he lost the advantage. He double-crossed the Conry’s and they aren’t known for subtle punishments."

"So, my real dad thinks I'm dead?" she frowns at Patrick’s photo, "How did you find all this out? Will it lure Braden to Montana?"

Wylan shoots her a big grin, making her flush. Pretty boy. "No Cora, you're safe."

"No wonder," she snatches the bottle, refilling her glass, "Now I know why he kept telling me I was lucky."

Wylan and I exchange confused expressions, so I ask, "What do you mean?"

Coralee turns a darker shade of red, looking first to Wylan, then me before muttering, "I'm a virgin."

My heart skips a beat.

I swallow hard against a suddenly dry mouth.

She’s been put through so much and now mine to protect.

Avenge.

Oh, Braden better be living it up because when I get my hands on him, he’ll never see the light of day again.