FIGHT FOR YOU
A Warrior for Her #1
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Indie Release
Release Date: October 15, 2019
Pages: 352
ISBN: 9781689272964
(This book deals with gun and gang violence, and touches briefly on sexual assault, sex trafficking, and suicidal ideation).
SUMMARY
Some men deserve redemption. Some men are worthy of salvation. I'm not one of them. My name is Michael Kincaid, and I've got so much blood on my hands, I'll never wash clean.
For ten years, I've tried to outrun my gangbanger past by burying myself in my work with the DEA. I've tried like hell to forget the day I damned my soul and lost everything…my family, my home, and the only girl I've ever loved.
I still can't outrun it.
No matter how far I go, January James haunts me. Being without her is killing me, but what other choice do I have? We were still kids the first time I vowed to protect her. Instead, I destroyed her.
Now one of my enemies—a local gang member—has it out for her. He isn't going to stop until she gives him the territory I left her all those years ago. I swore I'd never set foot in Los Angeles again, but January needs my protection, and I'm not nearly strong enough to say no.
She deserves better than me, but she's mine anyway. It's time to stop running and fight for her.
She's an angel. I'm the devil on her shoulder. And this is my swan song.
When it's over, I'll either be the monster at the end of this book…or I'll be the man she deserves.
Fight for You is an angsty friends-to-lovers, second chance romance, and is not suitable for all readers. It is the first book in a series of interconnected full-length novels featuring law enforcement officers willing to do whatever it takes to protect the women who need them most. Each book can be read as a standalone, has no cheating, and a guaranteed HEA.
MORE ABOUT THE BOOK
Wracked by guilt over the senseless tragedy that destroyed his life, and trying to outrun memories of the only girl he's ever loved, Michael "Cade" Kincaid committed his life to bringing down some of the most dangerous gangs around. As one of Seattle's most dedicated DEA agents, he buried his past beneath years of ruthless decisions and hard wins.
But old memories don't stay buried for long.
With a gang war brewing in Los Angeles, Michael is forced back to the city he fled ten years ago. Everything is different now, but when he sees January James again, he realizes some things will never change…like the way he loves her. Confronting his past to save the girl he left behind might be the most painful thing he's ever had to do, but he'll do it. For her.
"Just breathe" reads his tattoo. But how do you breathe when you feel like dying?
January James swore she would never forgive Michael Kincaid for what happened ten years ago, but now he's the only thing standing between her and the gang that wants the neighborhood she vowed to defend. With him in her personal space at every turn, keeping her defenses in place isn't so easy. He might not be the same boy he was then, but he still has the power to destroy her.
"Stay strong" reads her tattoo. But how do you stay strong when you feel like breaking?
Reunited by danger, bound together by feelings that just won't die, and desperate for forgiveness they don't believe they deserve, Michael and January will risk their lives to break free of the past. To build a future, they'll both risk the only things that really matters: their hearts.
EXCERPT
"Why does Kaleo want this block?" I curse when he doesn't answer me. "You really going to take the fall for some dumb son of a bitch who won't spend two seconds thinking about you once you're hauled out of here? Kaleo doesn't give a fuck about you, Trey. You're just another kid for him to use. As soon as you're gone, he'll have someone else to take your place."
"He'll kill me if I talk," he mumbles.
"Not if he doesn't know. Do I look like I run my mouth?"
Trey thinks about that for a minute and then answers my question. "Don't know what he wants," he says with a shrug. "Says the block should belong to him and it's time for him to take it."
"You believe him?"
He shrugs.
"He's wrong," I mutter as a squad car pulls up on the curb, take-down lights flashing through the dark. "I own this fucking block. When you get out, you tell him Michael Kincaid is coming for him. He better fucking pray I don't find any more of his people on my block. Tell him to stay away from January or I'll put a bullet between his eyes. You got that?"
Trey nods, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open. "You're Kincaid?"
"Yep," I confirm and then pin him with a hard glare. "Don't even think about moving from that spot."
"Okay," the kid whispers.
"Agent Kincaid?" the LAPD officer calls out, jogging up the sidewalk toward me.
"That's me." I fish my badge out of my pocket and flash it at him, meeting him halfway down the sidewalk.
"He's a cop?" Trey says behind me, his voice high pitched.
Yeah, you little shit. I'm a fucking cop and the girl next door belongs to me. Told you I was your worst goddamn nightmare.
"What do you have?" the officer asks, glancing between me and the kid.
I quickly fill him in on the situation and then pull Trey's shit out of my pocket. By the time I'm finished talking, another squad car and an ambulance roll up the street. The patrol officer takes all of the kid's stuff from me and then shakes his head.
"I knew Kaleo was up to something," he mutters, narrowing his eyes on the boy. "We've been keeping an eye on Miss James for a while now. His people keep showing up around here, causing trouble."
"You know January?" I practically snarl at him, not liking the way he talks about her like she's his to watch over.
He glances up at me and smiles, too slow to realize he's walking into a no-go zone. I don't give a fuck if he does have a badge too, I'll rip his throat out if he tries anything with her. "Everyone around here knows Miss James," he says, emphasizing her name like I'm being disrespectful or some shit by calling her January. "She was my son's kindergarten teacher."
Shit. I forgot she's a teacher. Well, that's not true. I refused to think about her for so goddamn long, I blocked that shit out. But I knew she teaches kindergarten. It's what she's wanted to do since she was barely out of grade school herself. She's so good with kids. She always wanted a bunch of her own.
It hasn't gone unnoticed that she still lives in her old house, alone.
What? So maybe I think about her more than I should. More than is good for me. Sue me.
"Kaleo won't be a problem for her much longer," I mutter to the officer as he hooks Trey up and pulls him to his feet.
"Good," he says, rubbing a hand over his crewcut hair. He pegs me with a considering stare. "You're the kid who used to live with Ma Rose, aren't you?"
I think about telling him no, but shrug instead.
He shoots me a speculative glance and then nods…whatever that means. He marches Trey down to the ambulance waiting on the curb and then helps him inside so the paramedics can deal with his nose.
I should probably feel bad for breaking it, but I didn't know he was just a kid when I clocked him. And it's not like he didn't earn that shit by running around with Kaleo and trying to break into January's house to scare her. Who knows what the fuck he was actually going to do with that knife he had in his pocket? He's lucky all he got was a broken nose and a few smacks. Just thinking about what might have happened has my blood boiling all over again.
"What's going on out here?"
I freeze as soon as I hear that dulcet voice. I don't even have to turn around to know it's her. She hasn't spoken a word to me in a little over ten years, but the cadence of her voice is ingrained in my memory, embedded so deeply I don't think I'll ever forget it. I remember the exact resonance of her giggle and the sweet melody of her laugh. I know how that angelic voice turns sultry when she's begging me to fuck her…and how she growls and hisses like a little lioness when she's pissed off. I also know that her voice shakes when she's scared. It's shaking now.
"Nothing. Go back inside, January," I say, planting my feet to keep myself from turning around to look at her. If I see her, if I look into those bright emerald eyes…it's going to tear me apart. All those still festering wounds are going to break wide open, and I'm not sure I'll be able to handle it this time. It's been a decade since she ripped my heart out and I'm barely surviving as it is.
"Cade?" she gasps.
Fuck. She shouldn't have said that. She's the only person who has ever called me Cade. I never let anyone else use the nickname she gave me. It was just for her. Hearing her say it now is like a goddamn dare, taunting me to turn around and face her. And I want to do exactly that. I want to turn around and look my fill, ease the pain that's been riding me every single day since she kicked my ass to the curb, but I don't have that right anymore. I lost it ten years ago when I destroyed her life.
Like the bastard I am, I turn around anyway.
She's still the prettiest little thing I've ever seen in my life. She's tiny, her little body barely big enough to hold up those luscious tits pressing against her tank top so hard her nipples are visible. Her red shorts cover nothing. They're so goddamn short every inch of those tanned legs are on display.
With one glimpse at her, I'm rock hard, my dick pressing into my zipper so insistently he's about to split the seams. It's been ten years—ten long, torturous years—and he still knows who he belongs to. January.
"Cade," she whispers this time, her bright green eyes roving all over my body. She hasn't changed at all. She's still tiny and perfect.
But I'm bigger, harder, comprised of muscle and aggression. I'm also covered in tattoos that hurt to look at more than my scars do. With small gauges in my ears, a piercing in my nose, and a decade of ruthless decisions weighing on me, I look a hell of a lot like the thug I so often portray.
She seems to like what she sees now as much as she did back then. She pushes her long blonde hair away from her heart-shaped face and licks her lips. Her nipples get harder. The pulse in her throat flutters.
I take a step toward her, unable to stop myself from moving in her direction. She's like gravity…a natural phenomenon I'm not strong enough to withstand. I never have been. My every instinct clamors for attention, screaming at me that I need her to survive.
She throws a hand up and takes a step back.
My heart cracks, but I stop moving toward her. Of course I do. My body is hers to command as much now as it ever has been.
"Don't," she says. Her gaze flickers past me to the squad cars and ambulance parked on the curb. Fear slides through her expression, tearing at my insides. I know what she's thinking about, what she's remembering. It fucking kills me to know she's still bleeding over it too.
"It's okay, baby girl," I whisper to her, willing to say or do anything to ease the haunted look on her face.
"Everything is okay."
"It's not," she snaps, glowering at me. And there it is. The look that annihilates me. The one that haunts every goddamn nightmare I have.
Hate.
I'd sell my soul to take back what I did to earn her hatred, but I can't. I did the crime. I'll do the time. Every excruciating second of it until someone puts me out of my misery. Even then, it won't be enough to redeem me. Some souls are so dirty, so black, there is no redemption. No salvation. There's nothing but blood and pain. Mine is covered in so goddamn much of it I'll never wash clean.
"What happened?" she asks, glancing from me to the roadway.
"Caught a kid trying to break into your place," I tell her, shoving my hands into my pockets to hide the way they shake. "I took care of it."
"How? By beating him up?"
I hate that that's what she thinks of me…and I hate that she's right. I don't even try to defend myself. What's the point? Her opinion of me was confirmed long ago. Nothing I say now will change it.
"What are you doing here, Michael?" she asks, weary and wary and so goddamn sad, it kills me.
It kills me even more that she's calling me Michael like she doesn't know me at all. Like she doesn't own me. I've been Cade to her since she was four years old. I've belonged to her for just about as long. She was my first everything, but she's not mine anymore. That ship sailed right into an abyss a long time ago.
"Taking care of a few things," I say, not elaborating any further. If I tell her the ATF asked me to convince her to let Kaleo have this block before she gets herself killed, she'll fight me. I don't have it in me to fight her right now. I need to get the hell out of here. Now. Because the longer I stand here not touching her, the more it hurts.
"Agent Kincaid!" the LAPD officer calls from behind me.
January gasps.
Yeah, baby girl, I'm a cop. Too damned bad it doesn't change a fucking thing. I'm still the monster at the end of this book. Only this one doesn't end happy like the storybook I used to read you, sweetheart. Not for me and not for you either.
About the Author:
Ayden K. Morgen is the Amazon Bestselling author of the Ragnarök Prophesies series. She lives in the heart of Arkansas with her childhood sweetheart/husband of fifteen years, and their furry minions. When not writing, she spends her time hiking, reading, volunteering, causing mischief, and building a Spork army.
She graduated summa cum laude with her Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice and Forensic Psychology in 2009 before going on to complete her graduate degree in CJ and Law.
She puts her education to use as a 911 Dispatch Supervisor, where she's responsible for leading a team of dispatchers as they watch over police, EMS, and firefighters for her county. Her books feature law enforcement officers, the women who love them, and the difficult cases that drive them.
She also writes New Adult Fantasy as A.K. Morgen.
Author Links
Amazon Author Ayden: http://amazon.com/author/aydenmorgen
Facebook: http://facebook.com/akmorgen1
Twitter: http://twitter.com/akmorgen
Instagram: http://instagram.com/aydenmorgen
GIVEAWAY!
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