Fight for Me (12 page)

“Oh my God.” The words escaped just before Natalie put a hand up to cover her mouth, the other one going to Knox’s arm. Her eyes widened as a bevy of emotions crossed her face. First horror, then sadness, and finally understanding. “How old were you?”

“Eight. My father . . . he was a drunk. Liked to smack my mom around. I don’t know why she stayed. He couldn’t hold down a job, so she supported the family. She could have left. She
should
have left his drunk ass.”

“Sometimes it’s not that easy,” Natalie said quietly. She took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand in a soothing circular motion.

“I usually stayed out of the way, and for the most part, he left me alone. Sometimes I think he even forgot he had a kid. One night, he got really loaded. My mom was late coming home from work. As soon as she walked in the door, he laid into her. She didn’t even see it coming. At first, he only used his fists, but then he picked up the old rotary telephone we had in the hallway. At that point, I jumped on him, trying to get him off her. I couldn’t call for help. Our phone service had been cut off days before. He threw me into the wall, and I blacked out. When I woke up, blood was everywhere. She was dead. Her head had been completely bashed in by that bastard. And her face . . .”

Natalie rested her head on his shoulder, keeping his hand in her lap. “Knox, you couldn’t have done anything. You were so young. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you, too.”

Knox turned his head, looking away. He knew that. Now. But try explaining that to an eight-year-old boy who’d waded through his mother’s blood and brain matter only to see that her face was no longer recognizable. He’d spent the rest of his childhood cloaked in a cloud of guilt. And as soon as X gave him the opportunity, he started training.

So he’d never be defenseless again.

The driver returned to the car ahead of Harding. When he saw Knox and Natalie lingering, he slowed his walk, looking at them suspiciously.

“What are you—hey! Get away from the damn car.” He pulled out his cell phone, and Knox closed the distance between them and stripped it out of his hands before Natalie could blink.

“We’re not here to hurt anyone,” Knox said. “We just want to talk to Mr. Harding.”

Natalie stepped forward. “I need to talk to Mr. Harding about some family business. That’s all.”

“Then why don’t you call and set up an appointment?” The driver’s comment made perfect sense under ordinary circumstances, but these were not ordinary circumstances. “And give me back my phone. That’s theft, you know. I’ll call the cops.”

Natalie and Knox exchanged a look.

“Charlie, what’s going on? Why isn’t the car started?” Harding approached. Seeing Knox and Natalie, he frowned. “Who are these people?”

The driver crossed his arms. “They say they need to talk to you about family business.”

“Oh yeah? They can call my secretary just like everyone else. Let’s go, Charlie. Start the car.”

Natalie stepped forward. “Mr. Harding, you might know me. I’m Natalie Farrington Kent. I met you once or twice before.”

He looked her over for a moment before recognition flashed in his eyes. “What can I do for you, Miss Kent?” His tone was patronizing, the way so many of those in her father’s circle had spoken to her.

“I’m trying to locate your stepmother.”

“Ex-stepmother.” Harding’s tone was petulant, like that of a spoiled child rather than a man old enough to be a grandfather.

“I’m sorry. Ex-stepmother,” Natalie corrected, trying to appease the man, even though her heart sank as she stared at the man standing before them with his chest puffed out and thinking he was better than they were. Harding wasn’t going to help them.

“I couldn’t care less where that crazy old bitch is.”

Natalie smiled tightly. “So sorry to have bothered you.” She turned to Knox. “Let’s go.”

Harding pulled a small silver handgun from inside his suit coat and pointed it in their general direction. It was the kind that Natalie would have expected a woman to pull out of her garter belt. Still, it was a gun, so she froze, instinctively putting her hands up.

“I don’t think so,” Harding sneered. “A lot of people are looking for you two, including your dear father. He’s worried sick. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t call? Give my driver his phone.”

Knox took a few steps forward, no doubt to put the attention on him instead of Natalie. Harding swung the gun in his direction.
No!
Natalie wanted to scream. He wouldn’t shoot her, but Knox didn’t have that same guarantee.

Knox looked at Natalie briefly before holding up the phone and shaking it. “This phone?” Then he threw it as far as he could, over the cars and the line of bushes into the neighboring lot.

Charlie looked back and forth between Harding and Knox, looking like he’d rather chase down the phone than stand between his armed employer and Knox.

Harding let out an irritated sigh. “Why do you have to be difficult? Do you want me to shoot you? Everyone would believe it was self-defense. And no one would miss you.”

Not true.
Natalie’s nostrils flared, but Knox remained unaffected.

Harding reached into his pocket while still keeping the gun trained on Knox. However, that little loss of concentration was enough of an opening for Knox to lunge at him, hitting him in the midsection and taking him down.

“Sir!” Charlie stepped toward the fray, but Natalie rushed to stop him, trying to remember what Knox had told her. She brought her knee up toward his groin and felt satisfaction as her blow hit home. He doubled over for a second, then his hand flung out, catching Natalie on the face.

She reeled back, her cheek feeling like it was going to explode. She blinked, then prepared for her next strike.

Beside her, Knox roared. He handed her Harding’s silver gun. “Use it if you have to.” Then he advanced on Charlie with slow measured steps.

Natalie kept the gun trained on Harding, whose eyes were wide. His lower lip quivered. He looked like a man who was about to pee his pants, a far cry from the arrogance he’d displayed moments ago.

“Oh, shit.” Charlie took one look at the murderous look on Knox’s face and turned to run. Knox grabbed him from behind and threw him on the ground. He started whaling on him until the man passed out and his face was a bloody mess.

But he kept going.

“Knox!” Natalie cried. “He’s done! He’s finished!”

Her words didn’t register. It was like he was in another place.

“Stop, Knox!” Natalie put her hand on his shoulder, and he turned, his fists raised and bloody. His eyes finally focused on her and he lowered his arms.

“We need to go.”

He nodded and stood, but before leaving he walked to stand over Harding one last time. “If you ever—and I mean
ever
—threaten Natalie again, I swear I will find you and rip your tongue out through your asshole.”

Knox inspected the teeth marks on his shoulder in the bathroom of the house while Natalie illuminated the wound with a flashlight. In over a decade of fighting, Knox had never had another man bite him like Harding had done.

“He didn’t even break the skin.” He shook his head and pulled his shirt back on. “What a fucking pansy.”

Natalie clicked off the light as they returned to the living room. “That’s good. Otherwise it could’ve gotten infected.”

“It better not leave a scar.” No way was Knox wearing some douche bag’s dental records on his shoulder. He had plenty of scars on his body, but those were acquired respectably, in proper fights.

Natalie just laughed. “I hate to say it, but seeing the fear in his face was almost enough to make this night worthwhile. Almost.”

“Are all of the rich fuckers in this city like him?” If Darwin’s theory of survival applied in today’s world, punks like Harding would have kicked it long ago. Too bad today it was all about who you knew and how much money was in your bank account.

“No.” Natalie made a face. “Some are like my father. Others are good people, though. Most are involved in charity work in some way, and though some do it for the social aspects and the recognition, a fair amount of them genuinely care for the causes.” She paused and her face brightened. “The greenhouse! That’s it! Eleanor started a local greenhouse to grow fresh produce for the needy. It’s even named after her. I doubt she works in it anymore, but someone there might know something about her.”

“Where’s the greenhouse?”

By the look on her face, Knox knew it wasn’t anywhere close. He sighed. Tomorrow. They’d deal with that tomorrow.

Natalie disappeared into the bathroom and Knox settled on his own sleeping bag, lying on his back with his cell phone in his hand. He absently scrolled through the local news channels and snorted when he came to a news clip featuring an interview with Harding. The backdrop was the parking lot of the restaurant, which was now cordoned off with yellow police tape.

“Look at this,” he said to Natalie, and tilted the phone so she could see before he hit play.

“So Mr. Harding, John Cowley, more commonly known as Knox, attacked you?”

“Yes. I was brutally and viciously attacked. This was after he held me up at gunpoint and assaulted my driver.”

“Thank goodness you got away.”

“Yes, well, my concern is for poor Natalie Farrington Kent. I fear for that girl. That man is feral and doesn’t belong in civilization. I can only imagine what he’s inflicted on her.”

Natalie gasped. “That son of a bitch.” She shook her head and fumed.

Pictures of Knox and Natalie flashed across the screen as the reporter reminded the viewers of the ongoing story. There wasn’t anything that they didn’t already know, so Knox hit pause.

“It pisses me off that they keep dragging your name through the mud when
I’m
the one who’s actually at fault.”

Knox shrugged. “You’re not at fault. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“It
does
matter,” Natalie said firmly. “All we’ve done is worry about my problems, but what about yours? What are you going to do about X?”

Knox ground his teeth. Even though the same question had been running through his mind for days, he didn’t have an answer. He should have killed him when he had the chance. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have. If X’s men ever caught him, the repercussions would be the same whether X was alive or dead. Might as well have the personal satisfaction.

His original plan of skipping town was the only one that made sense. But now that wasn’t an option.

Because now, he had Natalie.

Once she got her trust situation straightened out—and he had no doubt she would—then what? Her family estate was here. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t just leave.

And as long as X was around, she wouldn’t be safe. X was a goddamn snake, and he had his beady little eye set on Natalie, too. Until he had her in his fangs, he wasn’t going to forget.

“And then there’s the police.” Natalie was getting more and more worked up. “Knox, they think you’ve committed all these terrible crimes.
I’m
the one who’s a murderer.” Her chin quivered and her eyes welled up.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. Natalie crawled into them and rested her face on his chest. “You killed that man in self-defense. It was your life or his.”

He didn’t say what was running through his head: he still intended to take responsibility for that. It
should
have been him. Natalie shouldn’t be the one to pay for the crime.

Although in the long run, it might be smarter to let her claim the kill. No one in this town would convict the Farrington heiress of murder.

“I keep putting it out of my mind because I have to go on, but eventually, I’m going to have to face the consequences.” Natalie let out a shaky breath and ran her fingers along his chest.

“One thing at a time,” he said. He pulled the sleeping bag around her and stroked her hair until her breathing became even.

Even though it was well past midnight and it had been a long day, sleep did not come for Knox. His mind was too full.

He mentally ran through his options.

X was involved in a lot of shady shit. If he played informant to the police, he’d have a bargaining tool for any charges they wanted to bring against him. The police would surely trade his freedom for the chance to put X behind bars. But ratting out X would create ripples that would touch a lot of other people who were equally as powerful as X.

And there was also the matter of X’s cops. They’d already managed to cover up so many things for X over the years. So even if he went to the police, there were no guarantees.

Fuck.

He remembered what Amelia had said about that cop who was digging into old files. What had she said?
X’s panties were in a twist.
He smiled wryly into the darkness at the mental image. He sure would like to know what that cop had uncovered, but it’s not like he could waltz into the police station and ask.

If he were smart, he’d leave town now and not look back.

Natalie shifted, moving her leg on top of Knox’s and snuggling closer into him.

He rested his chin against her forehead and closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of her body against his.

He was one dumbass motherfucker.

Because he knew what he needed to do.

Once way or another, he had to take care of X. Permanently.

Natalie stared at the contraption Knox held out to her. “You want me to do what?”

“Get on and ride.”

She was well-acquainted with riding a bike—the one in the gym that you didn’t have to balance on and didn’t actually move. The rusted-out piece of junk that Knox wanted her to sit on was another story.

She had no clue where the two rusty beach cruisers had come from. Knox had disappeared for half an hour this morning and come back with these. They were probably stolen, which didn’t bother her as much as it should have—as much as it would have a few weeks ago.

If she’d learned nothing else from this experience, she’d discovered that sometimes wrong is just plain wrong, but most times, wrong fell into a huge gray area. And that’s where she’d been spending most of her time lately.

She swung her leg over the bike and rested her butt on the seat, the metal digging into her left ass cheek. The seat’s padding had seen better days.

They set off toward the center of the city. They’d debated whether it was better to travel during rush hour when they could blend in or before, when there were fewer people on the road, but they’d stand out more. In the end, they’d decided to set out
way
before rush hour, which was why Natalie found herself pedaling on this death contraption at six
A.M.

Knox glanced over at her, flashing one of his elusive smiles. “It’s just like—”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Natalie said, narrowing her eyes at him. So she was wobbling a bit on the bike. She hadn’t fallen over—yet—so she’d consider that a victory. Knox could just shut it.

The greenhouse that was their destination was on the complete opposite end of town, so honestly, the bikes were a godsend. Otherwise, it would have taken them hours to get there.

Natalie had done some research before they’d set out so they’d know what to expect. She’d been pleased to see that Tabatha Dimitri ran the greenhouse. She’d met the woman before and had liked her. She was much more likely than Harding to help them. Hopefully, she knew where Eleanor Simmons had ended up.

She also hoped Tabatha hadn’t changed her routine. The news article she’d found online stated she spent her mornings at the community greenhouse, but the article was several months old.

The greenhouse was deserted when they arrived, so they stowed the bikes around back and out of sight, and Natalie quickly picked the lock. They settled to wait behind a row of plants. Tomatoes? Zucchini? She had no idea. If she really wanted to know, she could look it up online later.

Natalie sighed, running a leaf through her fingers. “I feel like we’ve been doing a lot of waiting around.”

Knox shrugged. “That’s not a bad thing if it’s strategy.”

“I just feel like we could be doing more.”

“There’s no reason to expend energy for the sake of doing something if it won’t be effective. Like in the cage—sometimes you have to wait for the right opening. Wasting energy doesn’t help in the long run.”

Natalie smiled at Knox. “How come you’re so smart?”

Knox snorted. “I might know about fighting strategy, but I’m not smart.”

“Yes, you are. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“I don’t even have a high school diploma.” Knox stared straight ahead as he said this, not meeting Natalie’s eyes. She’d wondered about that.

“I guess X didn’t care too much about education.” She tried to imagine Knox as a desperate adolescent, so desperate that he looked up to X as a father figure. She couldn’t picture it. Knox was always so in control, and he always seemed to know what he was doing.

Knox shrugged. “Not that kind of education. He taught me to fight.”

Natalie watched him and the façade of nonchalance he displayed. He might act like he didn’t care, but she knew better. She’d seen the pain in his features and heard the desperation in his voice when he talked about his past.

“A diploma’s just a piece of paper, you know.”

“Money’s just paper, too, but it sure as hell matters.”

He made a valid point. But she was sure, now more than ever, that there were much more important things in life than what could be printed on paper, money included.

How ironic, considering they were hiding in a greenhouse, stalking a woman who could possibly help Natalie gain control of the Farrington money.

But it wasn’t about the money exactly. It was about controlling her destiny and making sure the Farrington legacy didn’t fall to her bloodthirsty father.

And she had to be honest here—even if it wasn’t the most important thing, money helped. It helped
a lot.

She reached over and put a hand on Knox’s arm. “I’m not going to lie. Money helps. But that doesn’t make it the most important thing.”

He looked down at her hand, then his eyes met hers. His gaze was cool before he returned to staring straight ahead. “Someone like me doesn’t fit into your world. You deserve a doctor or a lawyer or someone who is somebody.”

She was taken aback for a moment. After everything they’d been through, how could he still think that way?

“You
are
somebody, Knox.”

“You deserve better than me.”

“I don’t know
what
I deserve,” she said slowly, “but I know I need you.”

He slowly turned his head to look at her, his expression pained. He opened his mouth to speak, but she swallowed his words with her mouth, wanting to show him.

She ran her hand up his chest to rest on his cheek and softly worked her lips on his. His resistance gave way, and she straddled his lap.

He ran his hands under her shirt and up her back, pulling her close against him. His tongue parted her lips, and she welcomed the dizzy sensation that always accompanied his touch.

How could he possibly believe he wasn’t enough for her? Up until now, she’d been living a lie, and Knox was her truth.

She’d just have to make him believe it.

Knox was so lost in the feel of Natalie straddling him that he almost missed the sound of the door being unlocked.

He pulled away from her and put a finger to his lips. She nodded, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen.

Talk about shitty timing.

Although making love to her on the concrete floor of a dirty greenhouse would only prove his point that he wasn’t good enough for her. She deserved five-star hotels and silk sheets, not sleeping bags in decrepit houses with no power.

She silently removed herself from his lap, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he shifted to a crouching position, ready to move if need be. Natalie did the same.

Thank God it was only the Dimitri woman. When Natalie’s body was pressed up against him, he lost all sense of reason. She was his fucking drug.

He hoped it didn’t get them killed one of these days.

Tabatha flipped on the light switch and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lighting filled the silence. Natalie looked at him with the silent question in her eyes.
Now?
He shook his head. Tabatha was the only one who’d entered the building, but it was too soon to tell if she was alone. They’d give it another couple minutes.

They watched as Tabatha flipped on the radio and tinny classical music filled the large space. What a fucking cliché.

Natalie bounced a little in her crouching position, her fingers fidgeting. She shot him a distressed look, but he shook his ahead again. She didn’t like waiting.

Five minutes passed by, and Tabatha was still alone. It was a safe enough bet that no one was going to join her. Still, they would follow the plan—once they were sure Tabatha wasn’t a danger to Natalie, Knox would slip out of the greenhouse to secure the area. With any luck, the most he’d have to deal with would be another spineless driver.

What the hell was with these people and their drivers? They shelled out six figures for these fancy-ass cars that they didn’t even drive themselves.

He motioned Natalie forward and she stood, leaning over far enough that she couldn’t be seen through the rows of plants. She continued forward with Knox close behind. When she was a few rows away from Tabatha, she showed herself.

Tabatha let out a little yelp, her hand clutching at her chest.

“Tabatha, don’t worry,” Natalie said, putting her palms out to show her harmless intentions. “I just want to talk to you.”

Tabatha cocked her head to the side, recognition showing in her eyes after a few moments. “Natalie, I didn’t recognize you at first with that short dark hair.” Her gaze shifted to Knox. “And this must be your abductor.”

Natalie rolled her eyes. “He didn’t abduct me.”

Tabatha raised her eyebrows as she surveyed Knox. “I might not mind being abducted by him.”

Natalie laughed, but it was forced.

Tabatha didn’t seem the least bit alarmed by their presence, which set Knox on edge. Wouldn’t a lone woman normally be afraid when approached by two fugitives? Amelia hadn’t been, but she’d had two big-ass dogs. Plus, she just wasn’t afraid of anything.

Knox jerked his head toward the door, and Natalie nodded. Time to secure the area.

Knox opened the door, but before he stepped out, Tabatha called over her shoulder, “It’s just me.”

While Knox appreciated her candor, he wasn’t going to take her word for it. He stepped out and the parking lot was empty, save for a white two-seater convertible sports car. She was most likely telling the truth about being alone, but Amelia’s words rang in his ears:
You can’t trust the blue bloods in this town.

Not that he needed Amelia’s warning. As a general rule, he didn’t trust many.

He circled around the building, but the most noteworthy thing he found was a stray cat who mewed and rubbed along his ankles.

Christ.
First Tabatha and now the damn cat. Did he intimidate no one anymore?

In a few weeks, that wouldn’t matter much anymore. Intimidation wasn’t part of most job descriptions. Then again, it was just about his only skill.

Fuck.
He’d have to get a job or something when this was all over. He was strong. Maybe he could work in a warehouse or something. But what a shitty existence.

He’d be better suited to work as a bodyguard.

Maybe Natalie would hire him.

If
he managed to keep her safe. Maybe this was his goddamn fucking interview.

His hands fisted at the thought of seeing Natalie every day, but not being able to touch her, to kiss her, to love her. He never would have dared to dream of having a woman like Natalie in his life, but now that she was there, he didn’t want to live without her.

Too bad he was barely qualified to even be her employee, much less her lover. Where the hell did he expect their relationship to go? Where
could
it go?

Nowhere. No matter how deeply he felt for her, he wasn’t good enough for her. He never would be. He was nothing but a street fighter thug with no prospects for a future.

Even still, he wasn’t giving her up without a fight.

The clang of the door had him rounding the corner in record time. He almost ran headfirst into Natalie.

“She doesn’t know where Eleanor is,” she said, the disappointment evident on her face. “I really thought she could help us.”

Knox put his hands on his hips. Another dead end. No reason to hang around any longer than necessary, though.

“Let’s go.” He ushered Natalie to the back of the building to pick up their bikes.

She rode ahead of him on the way back, her shoulders slumped. If only he could help locate this woman. His skills didn’t extend to finding missing persons, though. He felt useless. Again.
Fuck.
He’d give anything to be able to help her beyond using his fists.

The ride back was slower than the ride out because the sidewalks were riddled with pedestrians, and they had to stop for red lights at almost every other block. Knox ground his teeth as they hit their sixth red light in a row.

Natalie made it through, but Knox was forced to stop or take out a woman with a baby in a stroller. There were few lines he wouldn’t cross to keep Natalie safe, but needlessly plowing into an infant was one of them.

He considered darting through traffic, but his getting flattened by a dump truck wouldn’t do either of them any good. He crossed his arms, waiting for the next light cycle while Natalie lingered on the other side. He didn’t like this.

Suddenly, a black SUV pulled to a stop in front of him, blocking his view of her.

What the hell?

Shit, no.
This wasn’t good.

He swung his leg over his bike, stretching to see around the SUV.

The doors on both sides swung open and two men got out on his side. Through the back window, he could see a man approaching Natalie. The blood in his veins chilled, turning to solid ice when he saw the look of terror on her face.

Fuck.
That Dimitri bitch must have sold them out.

He threw his bike to the ground and nearby pedestrians jumped out of the way, some of them cursing at him. Once they saw the two men approaching Knox, they scattered.

Take them out quickly. Then get to Natalie.

He had to trust that she could take care of herself long enough for him to handle these two thugs. He was outnumbered, and it wouldn’t help either of them if he let himself be distracted now.

But the dread in his stomach didn’t lessen.

The first guy came at Knox, not wasting any time in throwing the first punch. Knox easily dodged by ducking, coming up to uppercut the guy several times in his kidneys. The second guy charged Knox from the side, wrapping his arms around Knox’s midsection. Knox’s feet skidded until he was slammed into the side of the stone building.

The second guy was a lot stronger and a lot better trained. His hand went to Knox’s throat but Knox swung his leg out, his foot making contact with his side. That made the guy loosen his grip, but he didn’t let go.

Knox head-butted him hard enough to make him break contact, but also hard enough for Knox’s vision to blur for a few precious seconds.

The second guy staggered back and the first guy charged him. Knox sidestepped and put his hand behind the guy’s head, using his own momentum to slam his forehead into the building. He slunk to the ground, leaving a smear of blood on the stone wall.