Fight or Flight
By Cameron Hart
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About this ebook
Piper Jones. I'd recognize those silver eyes anywhere. She's my best friend's little sister and the only one who ever woke up a protective instinct in me.
Here she is, years later, with curves in all the right places, black hair I want to run my fingers through, and a temper that makes me want to kiss the fight right out of her. I also have the urge to hold her, protect her, and make her mine.
She's looking for her brother, but she found me instead. Every moment I spend with the complicated, beautifully broken Piper, draws me closer to her light. Her passion. Her anger.
When her worthless stepfather makes an appearance, I'll stop at nothing to protect Piper and hold her through the storm of emotions. She might not be ready for a possessive man like me, but she's worth the fight.
What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!
Cameron Hart
Hello. I'm Cameron Hart, and I write sweet steamy romances. I’m a USA Today Bestselling author with over forty books available. I write romance with lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. I graduated from the Iowa Writer’s Workshop in 2012 with a degree in creative writing. When I’m not working on my next book, I can be found reading, crocheting, doing yoga, and chasing around my grumpy cats. **What to expect from a Cameron Hart book: Lots of heat, plenty of sweet, and just enough drama to keep things interesting. No cheating, safe, guaranteed HEA!**
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Fight or Flight - Cameron Hart
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One look at the stunning waitress carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders, and I’m a goner. I wasn’t looking for a sweet little thing with auburn hair and more baggage than I can fit on the back of my bike, but there’s no going back now. She’s mine. I’ll prove to her I’m more than capable of handling her past and making her feel safe again.
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Chapter 1
Mason
I can’t believe I’m going into work on a Saturday morning to process payroll, of all things. When my best friend, Tanner, and I decided to get our shit together and open up our own bar, this is not exactly what I pictured.
We grew up in Compton together, where we got into all sorts of trouble. Tanner more than me, though only because his stepdad was a violent drunk. My dad wasn’t a great guy, but he was never cruel or abusive. After one particularly nasty fight when Tanner was seventeen, I said he should move in with me. Nine years later, and we’re still best friends. We even share an apartment, though it’s much bigger than the shack we lived in with my dad.
Tanner and I have done pretty well for ourselves considering our rough start to life. We've cleaned up our act from our days of petty theft and dealing pot, and now have a successful bar in LA.
Lately, however, it seems like I’m doing all the heavy lifting when it comes to the business side of things. Tanner promised to do payroll yesterday after his afternoon shift at the bar was over, but he ended up bailing on the shift altogether.
I roll my eyes, remembering the phone call I got yesterday afternoon from him. Tanner was clearly hungover as hell. Either that or crashing from a high, but I really hope not. I can’t deal with his shit while also keeping the bar afloat.
As I’m walking through the parking lot of the bar, coffee in hand, I notice a pile of blankets with a ratty old Converse shoe sticking out.
Great.
Telling a homeless person to get off my property is not exactly the best start to my already shitty day.
I nudge whoever is under the blankets a few times with my foot. Not hard enough to do any damage, just enough to wake them up. Hopefully.
After two taps of my foot, the pile moves. I’m expecting some strung-out junkie or maybe an old washed-up hippie. Instead, it’s...
Piper Jones.
Sure, she’s older now, curvier, with longer hair and more defined features, but there’s no mistaking those silver eyes. Shit. She grew up to be fucking hot.
Nope.
Can’t think like that. She’s Tanner’s younger sister. I last saw her nine years ago, the day Tanner moved in with me. She had to have been, what, twelve? Thirteen? Too young for me to notice, anyway.
I remember Tanner storming out of the house towards my car, duffle bag in hand. Piper followed him out, confident he was taking her with him. After throwing his bag in the back of my car, he turned around and told her it was time for him to leave. Tanner wrote out his number and said to let him know if things got worse. As far as I knew, their stepdad only took his anger out on Tanner.
Piper stuffed the scrap of paper in her pocket and wrapped her too-skinny arms around her scrawny body, a testament to how little food she was getting. It was like she was trying to console herself. I’ll never forget the look in her silver eyes as she watched me pull out of the driveway. She never cried, never begged, never even said a word the whole time, but her eyes spoke volumes. They screamed of betrayal, loneliness, and desperation.
I was a seventeen-year-old pink with a chip on his shoulder. At the time, Piper was a complication neither Tanner nor I needed. But I remember looking in her eyes that day, and for just a split second, I wanted to protect her.
Mason?
Her voice breaks me out of my reverie. I realize I’ve just been standing there, looking down at her for the past few minutes.
Yeah, it’s me, Piper.
A small smile graces her face, making her even more beautiful. That’s going to be a real problem for me, seeing as she’s totally off-limits.
You remember me?
Her soft voice does weird things to my stomach and sends a shiver down my spine. I blink, trying to reset my body somehow.
Lucky guess,
I answer with a shrug once I’m somewhat under control.
Piper nods and stands up, wincing as she wipes dirt off of her tight, perky ass. I really have to stop thinking about her that way. Or maybe just stop looking at her altogether. She bends down, which isn’t helping my thoughts, and folds up the blanket before picking up a duffel bag and backpack I didn’t notice before.
Did you sleep out here all night?
She nods again. That doesn’t sit right with me, but it’s her life. I shouldn’t care about where she chooses to spend her evenings.
Is Tanner here?
Piper asks.
Nope. My guess is he’s sleeping one off at some chick’s house.
Oh,
she whispers, her shoulders falling a little bit.
How did you know where to find him?
I ask, unlocking the front door.
Lucky guess,
she says with a smirk. Well, are you going to invite me in?
Are you old enough to be in a bar?
Yup. Turned twenty-one two months ago.
Okay, then. After you, princess.
I open the door for her and wave a hand dramatically in front of me to usher her inside.
She narrows her eyes at my nickname for her, and damn. If looks could kill.
I notice her face scrunching up in pain and her muscles tensing as we make our way to my office. I wonder if she’s just sore from sleeping on the ground or if something else is wrong. Shaking the thought from my head, I lead her to my office in the back of the bar.
Piper sets her stuff down, wincing when she bends over. She eases herself into one of the chairs across from my desk, blowing out a breath when she’s fully seated. It’s definitely more than a sore back.
So, what are you doing here, Piper?
It should have been my first question, but I was so shocked to see her, any rational thought fled my mind.
Can’t a girl stop by to visit her brother and his best friend after nine long years?
She smiles sweetly. I see right through her though.
I doubt you’re just stopping by with a duffle bag and a backpack,
I point out.
Her smile drops ever so slightly. I needed to get out of town for a bit,
she says with a shrug. I don’t miss the small grimace that plays across her face with the movement.
Are you in trouble with the cops? You can’t just bring that shit here, Piper.
Her eyes spark with fire at my words, those silver irises glinting with anger. Jesus, my dick throbs just thinking about riling her up so she can vent her frustrations while riding me hard and fast...
Way to assume the worst of me. Just because you and Tanner were delinquents at my age, doesn’t mean I am.
How do you know what Tanner and I were up to?
I kept tabs on Tanner throughout the years. Not that he bothered to do the same with me.
She mumbles the last part, but I hear it all the same. An unfamiliar sinking feeling pools in my gut. What is it? I feel...regret. I think I feel guilty, though I’m not sure why.
So, what is it then? If you’re planning on crashing with Tanner, you’ll be crashing with me as well, seeing as we’re roommates. I deserve to know what I’m getting myself into here, princess.
She scoffs but finally relents. Tank and I needed a little space.
The infamous Tank, aka, douchebag stepfather.
He lay his hands on you?
I growl. I may be an asshole, but only a fucking coward beats up kids and women. Hence why I was more than happy to let Tanner stay with me when he needed to get out.
It’s whatever, Mason. I can take a punch and give one right back. Things just...took a turn in a direction I wasn’t willing to go.
At her words, that long-dormant protective instinct rises up and courses through my veins. I only ever felt it that one other time, when I drove away and left her to fend for herself. Not that she was my responsibility. She still isn’t.
Fuck.
What kind of direction is that, Piper?
It doesn’t matter. I got out. And I’d like to make good on my brother’s offer of contacting him if things got worse.
I don’t like it. Any of it. What’s worse than being Tank’s punching bag? What happened that she would rather sleep outside of a bar than stay home one more night?
Why didn’t you call him before now?
I grit out, trying to tamp down whatever the fuck is happening in my head right now.
The look she gives me might just kill a weaker man. I can take whatever the little spitfire dishes out though. Why do you care? All you need to know is that I was in a shitty situation and I’m here to see Tanner.
Just talk to me,
I snap, my tone harsher than I meant. Why didn’t you call Tanner the first time Tank hit you?
I’m pacing back and forth, hoping to get some of this energy out. I’m frustrated at the stubborn, ridiculously gorgeous woman sitting in front of me, but I’m fucking furious with Tank. Right now it’s all coming out as rage, and it’s all being aimed in Piper’s direction.
You don’t think I tried?
she grits out. I called Tanner two weeks after he left.
Jesus Christ, she lived like that this whole time? Guess who never answered? I left voicemails until his inbox was full and then I resigned to my fate. Is that what you want to hear, Mason?
She takes several short, ragged breaths like it hurts to exert herself this much. And yet, she continues. You know what? I changed my mind, I don’t need Tanner’s help, and I sure as fuck don’t need your help.
Shit. That’s not what I intended to happen.
Piper pushes herself up from her seated position, catching her side on the arm of the chair. She barely suppresses a whimper, teetering off balance. I rush over to her and catch her before she falls, pulling her tiny frame into my body.
Fuck, it feels really good to