Kick: Fighting Fate, #8

By Maree Green

Piper Duvall has not had an easy life. Left to fend for herself since she was old enough to walk, she's a hell of a lot tougher than the usual twenty-one-year-old. In fact, she's built walls around her so high, no one is ever getting through.
That is until Matt Hennessey, a sexy-as-sin ghost from her past, appears before her, his ridiculously cute, crooked smile and bulging biceps turning her emotions inside out and her life upside down.

Matt Hennessey's life is a mess. As the drummer for the globally recognized rock band, Fighting Fate, he's known as the party-hard bad-boy of the band, and that's perfectly fine with him. It's a persona he's worked hard to create. The broken mess he really is inside isn't something he willingly lets anyone see.
That is until he walks into a bar and sees the angel of redemption from his past before him, her soft rounded curves and sassy mouth soothing his aching soul and sending his carefully orchestrated life into turmoil.

With an upbringing as destructive as theirs, both believe they're too broken for love, but when one steamy night leads to a shock accidental pregnancy, and their futures are suddenly thrust into uncertainty, they're both forced to face the trauma of their pasts so they can finally leave it exactly where it belongs—behind them.
It's a challenge neither of them are sure they can achieve, but what if the empty spaces that live inside them were perfectly sculptured to fit the other? Do they allow fate to lead them down the path to loneliness, or do they fight for the chance to finally be whole?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Density Lane Press
• Release date: Apr 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9780648128762

Maree Green

Maree Green is an author of sweet and sexy New Adult and Contemporary romance, and romantic suspense. Her books contain a fairytale quality for those who love stories about strong female characters who are simply a little down on their luck and want their knight in shining armor—or at least a hot guy in a rock star's tour bus—to swoop in and give them the HEA they deserve. When she's not writing, she can be found working with her husband on their property, looking after a menagerie of animals, and exploring as many creative challenges as possible.

Book preview

Kick

A Fighting Fate novel

By Maree Green

Copyright

Copyright 2024 Maree Green

Published by Density Lane Press in 2024

Kick

The Fighting Fate series

ISBN 978-0-6481287-6-2

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this e-book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite book retailer and purchase your own copy.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Title

Copyright

About Maree Green

Connect with Maree Green

Resources and Links

Link Tree

Chapter 1

Piper

Rolling into the parking lot of The Jaded Bull Bar and Grill, I eased my not-so-faithful Jetta into the first available spot and listened to her splutter with deep unhappiness. Before I’d even reached for the key to switch off the ignition, she coughed one last time and cut it herself.

Fucking piece of shit, I snarled, snatching the keys out of the ignition. Glaring up at the sagging roof lining, I growled. One more year. That’s all I fucking ask. Just let me find a better job than this shithole and I’ll happily send you to the scrap yard to die. Deal?

Staring out at the seedy building before me, I tried to breathe myself into a calmer state, but it was just becoming harder to make myself go inside each time I came here lately. I’d tried to tell myself it was a job, and I was lucky to have one, but it didn’t help. Not even a bit. I may have felt differently if the ‘grill’ part of the establishment was still operational, but the kitchen hadn’t been open for years.

Steeling myself, I shoved the door open with my shoulder and stepped out into the balmy night. At least my craptastic car put me in the right mood to deal with the shit that was most likely waiting for me. There was no room for weakness in a place like this. The regulars would eat you alive.

Like straight out of a textbook, the first greeting came as a wolf whistle let loose the instant I pushed through the doors. I rolled my eyes. Original, Wayne, I deadpanned without breaking my stride.

Mike laughed from his perch at the bar. Look out. We’ve got feisty Piper tonight.

A low groan rumbled in my throat. Of course they wanted to poke the bear. Tonight was going to be hell. Frank, the owner of the shithole establishment, grunted at me as I tossed my bag under the bar and grabbed my apron. You’re late.

I glanced at the clock before levelling him with a hard stare. Yeah, I don’t think so, Frank. I’m right on time. I’ve told you before, I don’t do freebies.

One of the older patrons, Scott, snickered. That’s right, Frank. She’s a professional, just like her momma was.

Fire instantly burned from my soul at the sly reference to my prostitute of a mother, and a few of the regulars let out a chorus of Oohs. They knew it wasn’t a topic I was okay with.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t pissy over some honorable feeling of protecting my mother’s name. She was a prostitute. And my father was her pimp. Everybody knew it, so there was no point arguing it. I was just mad as hell anyone dared liken me to her. Ever.

My hand clenched around a pepper shaker, my muscles coiled, ready to pitch the small ceramic container directly at Scott’s head. If he thought for even a second that I’d let that kind of shit slide, he was going to be severely sorry.

Jack, one of the younger patrons, placed his empty glass on the bar and gestured for another. Nothing wrong with the professionals, Scotty, he said with a slight smirk on his face. How else are you going to get laid? God knows no woman’s going to touch that pickle of a cock of yours without some form of compensation.

Scott’s eyes narrowed on Jack, and my hand relaxed around the pepper shaker. Frank grumbled a little more before walking out of the bar and into the back office, the pictures on the wall shaking as he slammed the door behind him.

Taking a clean glass from the fridge, I narrowed my gaze at Jack before starting to fix his whiskey and cola. I knew he’d baited Scott intentionally to get the attention off me, and while I was grateful for that, it still irritated me. I didn’t need a protector. I could take care of myself.

Scott wasn’t ready to let it go, though. Not by a long shot. I’ve had more women sit on this pickle cock than you’ve even dreamt of, boy. And ain’t none of them asked for anything in return ’cept for my load to be buried deep in their pussy.

Placing Jack’s drink on the bar in front of him, I turned to Scott. Well, damn. Were they disappointed when you couldn’t deliver? I mean, Tina did say your two inches was enough for her, but not getting anywhere near the G-spot must’ve been frustrating nonetheless.

Scott abruptly stood, his chair sliding back a few feet. I’ll show you two inches, girl, he spat, his fingers already working his belt undone.

Charlie, another old-timer, sauntered over to the bar, empty glass in hand. Put that damned thing away, Scotty. No one wants to see it. And learn to stop slinging insults if you can’t handle getting insults back, dumbass.

One corner of my mouth curled upward as I scooped up Jack’s money and turned for the register.

Scott scowled, but he buckled his belt and sat his ass back down again, saving us all from the nightmares that would’ve come from seeing his prized cock.

Taking Charlie’s dirty glass and propping it in the wash tray, I grabbed a clean glass and started pouring him a beer.

How’s the job hunting going, Pip? Mike asked from his little spot at the end of the bar.

I rolled my eyes, flicking the tap off and placing the beer in front of Charlie. Terrible. I’m fucking cursed. I think I’m the only graduate of the year who hasn’t found a job of some kind.

Scott scoffed. I told you that you were wasting your time. No big fancy corporation wants to hire the likes of us. You’d have better luck learning how to cut hair.

Normally, those kinds of words flew past me like the wind, but my strength was starting to wane with every job rejection I received. I was beginning to think he might be right. The thought of not being able to secure a job was stressing me the fuck out. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck here for the next year or more.

Now that’s not true, Scott, and you know it, Charlie chastised. There’s been plenty of people from this side of the tracks who’ve done well for themselves.

Scotty turned in his chair to pin Charlie with an intense stare. Like who?

Charlie pursed his lips. Well now, let me think. There was that young man, Darby, I think his name was. Got a job as a banker or something like that.

"You mean Darcy? The guy who went door to door selling insurance while his so-called boss cased the place to rob later?" Scott asked, large amounts of incredulity in his voice.

Charlie frowned. Okay, bad example. Tapping his fingers on the bar, his eyes brightened. What about that boy who left to make music in that group? The fate boys. He’s done well for himself.

My gaze sharpened on Charlie. He was talking about Matt Hennessey from Fighting Fate. And he was 100% correct. He had done well for himself. Exceptionally well. Even if he had to leave me to do it.

I busied myself with cleaning as they carried on their conversation about the success of Fighting Fate. The fact that I’d grown up with Matt—or ‘Marty’ as I used to call him when I was little—wasn’t a piece of information I ever shared with anyone. Our relationship had been one I wasn’t able to explain. It grew from a need to survive—a need to look out for one another. The guy might’ve been a hot playboy, womanizing musician now, but he did more for me growing up than even I would ever know. I was positive that if it wasn’t for Matt, I probably would’ve starved to death by the time I was nine.

Mike swatted a hand through the air in front of his face. Don’t pay attention to them, Pip. I’m sure you’ll find something.

Forcing myself to leave the memory of Matt where it belonged, I inhaled and opened a box of beer, Mike’s words echoing in my head. I fucking hoped he was right. I didn’t know what I’d do if he wasn’t. Ever since I was old enough to understand what my parents were, I’d only ever had one goal, and that was to be the furthest fucking thing from them I could be.

Chapter 2

Matt

The perks of being in a rock band were many. Admittedly, a lot of them revolved around drugs, partying, and women, but they were perks just the same. Even the drummer got action when a band was successful—especially if he was the last single guy in the band. Which is exactly what led me into the predicament I was in right now.

Like I said, I was a drummer. Beats were, in fact, my life. They were a part of my genetic makeup—my soul, so to speak. Together, we were one. One peaceful entity, the beat of my heart calming the pulse of my life force. Or so I thought.

Groaning, I rolled onto my back, clutching the pillow over my head, trying to stop the intense beat that was currently going to town inside my skull. It didn’t work.

Tossing the pillow to the side, I blinked my eyes open, trying to focus on the dimly lit room around me, but the low-hanging ceiling fan spinning demonically overhead only caused me pain.

With concentrated effort, I rolled into a sitting position and willed my brain to fill in the blank parts of my memory for me. I remembered we were in Seattle—we performed the final show of our tour. It was fucking epic, by the way. We went out with a glorious bang. There’d been celebratory drinks with my band brothers, but, of course, they all had women to go home to, so that just left me and Rhett, the lead singer of our brother band, The Dark Hybrid, to carry the weight of a true rock star celebration for us all.

That was where shit got a little hazy. I remembered going to The Underground—Rhett getting instant recognition before they turned to me. There may have been free drinks, a little ecstasy that led to body shots, but after that? That was anyone’s guess.

The sound of the main hotel door opening slowly seeped into my awareness, the soft whistling tune letting me know it was Ryan, our manager. I felt the crease deepen between my brows, knowing what was coming next.

A breathy laugh interrupted the whistling for a moment and, before I could brace myself, he was throwing the curtains open wide. Rise and shine, ladies. It’s time to go home. Our scrumptious drummer has work to do.

I all but hissed at the sudden bright light, my eyes screwing shut, refusing to adjust to the intrusion. Behind me, I heard the distinct sounds of moaning, indicating there was more than one body in the bed with me.

Here.

Cracking an eye open at the sound of Ryan’s voice, I found a coffee floating in the air before me. My taste buds perked up, interested, but wary just the same. Taking the cup, I rubbed a hand over my forehead. Thanks.

The smell of sweet caffeine wafted into my senses as I took a small taste, trying to gauge how my body was going to react to this new player on the scene.

Ryan began picking up clothes—dresses and high heels—off the floor and tossing them onto the bed. You’ve got five minutes, girls. There’s a car downstairs, waiting to take you wherever you need to go.

My taste buds nodded in approval before I took another sip, this one much bigger, and placed the cup on the bedside table. I needed a piss. Stat.

Standing in all my naked glory, I moved toward the bathroom, giving the two girls who were now trying to wriggle into their underwear a quick wink as I went. By the time I reappeared, they were gone.

My head pounded as I pulled on a pair of sweats. I had no idea what I’d drunk last night, but it sure as hell had fucked me over. Picking up my coffee, I wandered into the next room and found Rhett sitting on one of the sofas, his head hung low as he nursed his own coffee in both hands.

He looked up through his lashes as I dropped down on the sofa across from him. The fuck did you do to me?

Me? I laughed. You’re the one who was all for the million and one body shots.

A deeply unhappy groan rumbled in his chest. Fuck.

The sound of the main door opening had us turning to see my band brothers casually strolling in. Dean smiled broadly, the action so very typical for a lead singer. How are the two party animals this morning?

I growled. Someone was going to end up bound and gagged if they continued with that bright and sparkly shit.

Aiden grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and chugged it down in a few deep gulps. Out of all my band brothers, he was probably the one I was closest to, but I didn’t see too much of him since he’d started dating Emmy.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he winked. So, this is it, huh? he said, nodding like he was slightly in awe. Six months. What’s everyone got planned?

I refrained from throwing something at him. He was talking about the six months we had off until the next tour. I knew I was the only one not looking forward to it, and that pissed me off.

Dean rubbed his hands together and grinned. Eden and I are heading back to Australia. She’s got a few photo shoots to do, so we’re going to make the most of it.

Sounded fair. Dean’s girlfriend—or fiancée now, seeing as they were engaged—was a model. She was also Australian, hence the reason to be heading back there.

Tapping the water bottle on his leg, Aiden leaned back against the kitchen counter. Emmy and I’ll probably spend most of the time out helping Granny Lynne, I’d say. She’s been having a few issues with her hip.

Concern flared somewhere under my irritation. Granny Lynne was Emmy’s grandmother and the coolest old chick I’d ever met. She ran a farm out in bum-fuck Texas. I knew she’d be finding it hard not being able to run the place like she was used to.

I glanced at Jace, our lead guitarist. You heading back to Sac? I asked, my voice low, wary.

Sacramento was our home. The guys usually tried to head back there as often as they could. I, on the other hand, tried to avoid it.

Jace pursed his lips and nodded. Yeah, Mia wants to catch up with the girls and Lillian while she’s got the chance. What about you? You heading back? What’s Pauly doing?

Pauly was my older brother. He was the only family I had, really. Not that Mom had gone to Hell yet, but I didn’t think it would be long at the rate she consumed drugs and alcohol.

Pushing the bitter taste off my tongue, I ran my teeth over my lower lip. Yeah, I’ll be heading back. I’ve got some business to take care of. Pauly will track me down like he usually does, no doubt.

Ryan appeared again, his gaze meeting mine as he held out a large, document-size envelope. For you, my brother, he said, dropping it in my lap.

I scowled at the packet, barely refraining from mumbling like a child. This was the main reason I needed to head back to Sacramento. When I said I had business to take care of, I meant it. Almost every cent of the money I earned went into investments and a charity I’d inadvertently started seven years ago, but for reasons I didn’t want to consider, I’d been avoiding it, so it was time I dealt with it.

Snatching up the packet, I tossed it on the coffee table. It could wait until I was on the plane and had a glass of something strong in my hand.

Chapter 3

Piper

I was fifteen when my mother died from an overdose. Naively, I’d hoped it’d make my father reevaluate his life and make some vain effort to provide for me. It didn’t. Mom had been his sole way of making any money, and with her gone, he turned to whatever shady deals came his way. The final one—auctioning off my virginity—landed him in jail. I was two months shy of seventeen.

As much as I was glad he was out of my life, I was not ready for the foster system. So, while most girls were catching up with friends after school or watching their boyfriends throw a football on a field, I was working part-time, applying for emancipation, and moving into my own apartment. It wasn’t ideal, but, to me, it was exciting. At least for an hour anyway.

The instant I saw the color of the water coming out of the faucets in my new apartment, was the moment I decided I was never going to put it in my mouth. An hour after that, I realized the water was the least of my concerns. The hot water was tepid at best, heating was something you apparently needed to bribe for, and it was my firm belief that rats had taken full control of the building. But, it was still better than the trailer park I’d come from.

Sighing, I gazed at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. Nerves swam around in my stomach. This was it. Graduation. The moment I’d been working toward for the last four years of my life. If I was to be honest, it wasn’t a day I thought I’d ever see. I ruled college out as an option long before my mother passed away. I wasn’t even going to try.

The day I received a letter stating I’d been selected to apply for a full scholarship, was the day my whole world changed. I didn’t dare hope I’d be selected when I’d sent the application in, but the seed had been planted, and I couldn’t help but dream of it. When I found out I’d been successful, I cried. A lot. It was messy.

Drawing in a deep breath, I released it slowly. Today, things were going to change. I was sure of it. This degree was going to finally open up a new road before me. I was done with the days of barely being able to afford food after paying for this cesspit of an apartment and my craptastic car. I was ready for a little luck.

Grabbing my bag, I locked the door to my apartment, my steps surer than they’d ever been as I made my way along the sidewalk. Well, that was until I stuck the key into the ignition of my craptastic car, and all the positivity I’d built up immediately vanished into thin air.

My eyes narrowed as the engine sluggishly failed to turn over. Bitterness simmered inside me. For fuck’s sake. Not today, you piece of fucking shit, I murmured through gritted teeth.

The engine whirred pathetically, at least sounding like she was trying to start. Slamming my hand on the wheel, I cursed. Give me a freaking break. Just start, goddamn it!

I tried again, this time pumping my foot on the gas for good measure. The engine finally roared to life, relief coursing through me, erasing the embarrassment I usually felt at the loud clunking sound of the exhaust rattling against the manifold.

Throwing it into gear, I hit the road before she could change her mind and die on me, trying to push all the negative thoughts from my mind as I drove. I didn’t think about the fact that I had no family to come to see me graduate. I didn’t think about the fact that by the end of the day I would be a qualified accountant, or the fact that I had no job to walk into. I didn’t think about the fact that the few small clients I occasionally had didn’t pay me anywhere near enough for me to live uncomfortably, let alone comfortably. I didn’t think about the fact that I wasn’t even sure if accounting was what I really wanted to do in life. And I didn’t think about the fact that the hole that resided inside my chest felt just a little bit bigger than I was used to.

Pulling into the parking lot, I drove to my usual spot near the back corner and cut the engine, praying she would be kind to me later and start on the first try. I had no idea where I was going to go, but I knew I had to celebrate my achievement somehow. I’d at least earned that much.

As I finished dressing in my robe and cap, I dropped my hands by my sides, my shoulders slumping forward as I wondered if drinking alone was still classed as celebrating or just outright sad, but then the sound of my cell phone ringing ceased all thoughts of celebration. Closing my eyes, I sighed, knowing exactly who it would be. I didn’t get calls from people who just wanted to check up on me or wish me well.

Pulling the phone out of my bag, I found Frank’s name staring at me from the screen, knowing there would only one reason he’d be calling me. He needed me to work. I guessed I had my answer.

Chapter 4

Matt

Lowering myself down onto a chair, I rested my forearms on the table and