Broken Fighter: BBW, New Adult Romance (3 page)

“You’re coming with me,” Jackson stated, his voice dropping lower, brokering no argument.
 

“Wha—,” Emily’s eyes widened as she fixed her gaze on him.

“Look, if my mamma new I left a girl cold, wet and running without any help, she’d be mad. If she found out that I left her hungry…well, I’m just not that brave a man.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Emily’s mouth. It was an image that made Jackson’s heart skip before thudding hard, painfully. Another heartbeat more and her smile was gone.

“I can’t do it to you. They’re looking for me…the police. Somebody saw me sneak into the fight and reported it. I was hoping to just lose myself in the crowd for a while, thought I could find a spot to hold up and sleep for the night…figure things out. I…I never meant things to go this way.” Emily’s eyes became shiny with unshed tears.

Jackson pulled his gaze away from her to dig in his duffle bag, pulling out a cleanish pair of sweat pants and a tightly rolled, clean t-shirt. “First things first, you gotta change clothes,” he said, handing her both. “You’re wet and you need to change your appearance.”

Emily took them but her pinched forehead and raised eyebrows conveyed her concern.

“It’s okay…you put those on. I’ll turn away,” Jackson reassured her as he turned his back, fully aware that if he tried hard enough, he would be able to glimpse her out of the corner of his eye in the mirror. When he heard the rustle of her disrobing, he breathed a silent sigh of relief. “What’s your plan from here? Have you considered turning yourself over to the authorities? It’s a lot harder to tell your version of the story if you’re in hiding.”

“The Madisons are rich,” Emily said, her words garbled as she pulled off her wet top. “Dillon’s mom practically worships him. She would do anything to protect him. I know she would,” she mumbled, a sour note sneaking into her tone.

“Maybe the mom killed the dad. Maybe it wasn’t the kid,” Jackson said, letting his thoughts wander out loud. Behind him, all movement from Emily stopped.

“I didn’t think of that,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “Oh wow…either way, I’m screwed. They have dinner with some big wig judge at least once a month. I know she’d be willing to sink millions into creating a case to put me away. I just…
feel
it. There’s no way she’ll allow either her or her son to go down for this.”

The rustling resumed a few seconds more before silence fell again.

“I don’t think these sweats will work,” Emily said.

Turning to look at her, Jackson grinned. With her large breasts and ample curves, she filled out his t-shirt well enough but the legs of his sweatpants were over a foot too long. “Sit down,” he said with a motion of his hand toward the bench, closing the distance between them. Despite his instructions, he found her still standing when he reached her, his hard abs a mere couple inches away from her soft, fleshy mounds. Her eyes were somewhere passed blue and inching their way toward emerald. This time he felt his own face flush with heat.

Placing his large hands on her surprisingly delicate shoulders, Jackson encouraged her to sit with an amount of pressure no greater than the weight of his hands.

Without blinking, without so much as moving her eyes from his, Emily sank slowly to the bench, her chin upturned as she gazed up his long length.

Images flashed through Jackson’s head, images that would have had his mamma chasing him with a wooden spoon. But, he couldn’t help himself for having them. Emily’s sweet mouth made him ache to know her touch over every inch of his hardened—make that harden
ing
—body.

Kneeling down before her, Jackson fought to get his hammering heart under control. From where he sat squatted in front of her, he knew that all it would take to kiss her would be to lean forward and capture her mouth with his. Instead, he turned his face down to lift one of her pants covered feet in his hand. Pulling the length of the fabric up until it left her foot bare, he place her foot atop his thigh while his large hands went to work creating small rolls in the pants cuff until it had reached the delicate line of her ankle. When he was done, he repeated the process with her other foot.

“There,” Jackson said, lowering her foot back to the chilly floor. When he lifted his face to look into hers, his heart thudded so hard and loud that he was sure she was able to hear it. Her eyes stared into his as if she could see past his flesh and bone and into his soul, her liquid eyes calling to him like a siren’s song destined to destroy him against the jagged rocks.

Clearing his throat, Jackson stood to his full height to take an assessing look at her. Glancing back at his duffle bag, he wished he’d packed a cap. His eyes returned to Emily, gauging in his mind how recognizable she was at a glance. “Try tucking your hair into the back of your shirt, make it look like you’ve got short hair from a distance.”

Doing as Jackson bid, Emily gathered her long, thick tresses into one hand and, pulling at the back of her shirt’s collar, tucked her hair inside her shirt.

Jackson peered over her back, frowning at the bulge of twisted hair that caused her shirt to stick out as if she were sporting a hunched back. “I’ll fix it,” he said, leaning forward, the deep set V of his bare abs less than an inch from her face as he pulled her shirt open at the back to untwist the thick rope of hair until it laid flat against her skin. When done, he stepped away to take another look at her and again was struck by her beauty as his eyes drank in the sight of her porcelain cheeks, again flushed crimson, her eyes averted from him as she stared at the floor.

“Come on. Let’s go,” Jackson said, his voice more gruff than he had meant it to be. Covering the tension created by his want of her, his lips curled in a barely-there smile meant to reassure her, earning him a bright, happy smile back from her. His heart skipped a beat.
Careful, boy.

Extending a hand to help her stand, Jackson waited while Emily quickly slipped her sandals back on and rolled her wet, discarded clothes into a bundle. Finally ready, she slipped her hand into his, her eyes going wide when she took note of the sight. “Your hands are
huge.
”

“Mmmmm…to me, your hands are small. Come on.” Keeping her hand in his, he led her to the door. “When we get out there, you walk in front of me. I’ll be more than ten feet behind but you keep your eyes forward and walk with confidence. Keep moving until you hit the exit. Got it?”

Emily nodded once, her mouth tight, her full lips pressed thin. Her weary yet determined eyes struck another memory chord for Jackson, that of a too-hard life faced by those too young.
 

Jackson opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Taking a moment to scan the long hallway filled with random people connected to the fighting world in a hundred different ways, no one seemed frantic to spot an eighteen year old runaway accused of murder. Giving the door a small push, Emily slipped out and immediately started walking. Jackson soon fell into step several paces behind her.
 

On the way out three different women vied for Jackson’s attention, each one doing a subtle to blatant pitch for a post-fight romp, while Emily kept moving ahead of him, never looking back. He made quick work untangling himself from each promised meaningless one night stand before closing the distance between him and Emily with long, sure strides, never losing sight of her.

Once they’d made it to the parking lot, Jackson kept to the light while motioning Emily to keep to the dark as much as possible, giving anyone watching a chance to see him while missing the shadowed figure walking in tandem some twenty feet away. It was only when they’d reached his 4Runner that Emily moved with quick steps into the light and into the unlocked, passenger side. Within seconds, the SUV’s lights flared bright, further deepening its red to near black color through the contrast of light and shadow.
 

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in the darkest spot of a Wendy’s parking lot while Jackson watched in awed fascination as Emily wolfed down most of a triple stack cheese burger in nearly the same amount of time that it took him to unwrap his sandwich and get his straw jammed into his drink. Even after the first two bites into her burger, Emily’s belly had dared to growl in hunger but it soon submitted without further complaint when Emily took a long drag off the drink Jackson had prepared for himself. Realizing her error, she’d had the good grace to look embarrassed.
 

“Sorry,” she said, her mouth curling into a sheepish grin when her burger-attack finally hit a lull.

“Don’t be. It’s nice to watch a woman eat…as in
eat
and not just nibble.”

Emily paused with the burger half way to her mouth. “I guess I’m not the kind of girl you usually spend time with,” she said, quirking an eyebrow at him, her luscious mouth in a half grin.

Jackson felt himself tighten.
How the hell does she do that, go from lost little girl to sex-me kitten in half a second flat?
He knew that if the roles were reversed and he was being hunted for murder, pure unadulterated desperation would be his theme of the day versus the calm vixen vibe she was putting out. “You know,” he said, “going on the run and living your life as a criminal won’t be easy.”

“It’s that or prison…or death,” Emily said around another large mouthful in a tone that was way too matter of fact and pragmatic to be said by someone who looked so young.

Jackson cleared his throat, unsure of how to say what he needed to say. “Truth is, I don’t know how much more help I can be to you.” Lost for further words and needing to do something with himself, he took a large bite of his sauce dripping burger, pulling out half a slice of bacon in the process. The hard truth was, he needed to get off the Emily train before she derailed them both.

“Oh!” Emily said, shaking her head. “You’ve done so much for me already. Just get me to the bus stop. That’s all I need. Just get me there. I’ve stayed in touch with an old foster mother. She’s moved away but if I can get to her, I’m sure she’ll put me up.”

“What then? Live like a stowaway in her attic?” Jackson’s jaw tightened at her willingness to draw yet another person into her flight from the law.

“I don’t know.” A hint of irritation crept into Emily’s voice. “I don’t have all the answers.”

“Sounds like you don’t have
any
answers.”

Emily drenched a wad of fries with ketchup. “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done. Just get me to the bus stop, and I’ll get out of your hair. I didn’t expect any of this to happen and no, I don’t have any—”
 

Her words broke off as red and blue strobe lights cut through the darkness with blinding glare, a shrill siren rupturing the quiet of the night. Emily grabbed her bundled clothes with one hand and her door handle with the other but froze when Jackson’s strong hand clamped down on her arm.

“Wait,” Jackson demanded as he twisted in his seat just in time to see the police car slide to a stop a few feet from the restaurant’s door. A second later and the two officers burst out of the car and with weapons drawn, rushed the eatery’s entrance. Through Jackson’s open window, shouting from within the building could be heard. “Time to go,” Jackson said, dropping his half eaten burger into its bag before starting the engine and pulling out. Glancing to his side, he saw Emily looking paler than she had before, her eyes wild, her breath fast.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely audible between shallow gasps.

“Deep breath,” Jackson encouraged, returning his warm hand to her arm. “Take a deep breath and hold it for as long as you can.” He watched as Emily struggled to overcome the panic that threatened to swallowed her whole. “We’re heading to the bus stop. Right now. We’ll be there soon.”

With her eyes still large and wild, Emily nodded her head as her hands gripped her knees, the breath she was holding burning in her lungs.

Twenty minutes and three wrong turns later found them at the bus station, a short distance out of town near the interstate. The lone building sat atop a low sloping hill, its bright lights harsh in contrast to the night’s dark moonless sky. The parking lot was deserted.

“For the last time, you’re not going in there with me,” Emily said as she collected her meager possessions. “You’ve done enough. And if the police come asking questions, the less you know, the better.”

“I don’t like this,” Jackson said and while he meant it, he couldn’t deny the relief that sat deep in his gut heavy like a thankless, lifeless stone.
 

“Thank you, Jackson,” Emily said, reaching out to lay her hand on his forearm.

Jackson’s gut twisted, the frigid, lifeless stone turning hot in his stomach. Her touch was cold, her hands tiny. He remembered his mother’s stories from her time running from a husband determined to have her…or destroy her. He felt lower than vermin to be turning his back on Emily now when she had nothing and no one.
At least
, he thought, memorizing her face in the dim light,
the food’s given her some color back
, her ghostly pallor having brightened
.

Leaning across the console’s divide, Emily kissed Jackson’s cheek, the warmth of her lips infusing itself in his skin as if breathing life—and hope—into him. Opening the passenger side door, she slid out, not saying another word. Half way to the station’s entrance she turned and waved once before turning back to disappear into the lonely building.

Closing his eyes, Jackson hung his head, a fight raging inside of him. Every fiber of his being said it was wrong to leave her to face her troubles alone yet with her gone, his life became crystalline, simple, even if difficult. He would go home. He would rebuild his life just like Emily but without the manhunt and threat of prison time.
 

Who are you kidding? Boy, you just got played.
It was shallow reassurance but for the first time in his life, he hoped he had been lied to; he hoped the sweet girl who looked so innocent was a con artist.
Dinner and a free ride,
he thought to himself as his distracted hand moved to the ignition and turned the key.
She’s probably been on the street for years
. As his hand moved to the shifting lever to put his SUV into gear, he found himself smiling at their evening together, at the free meal she’d gotten out of him, and he felt happy to have been her patsy.