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  “She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help how she treated you.”

  “She was my mother!” Lord, Jesus! How come Lorraine can’t understand. “If nobody else in the world thought I was special, she should’ve.”

  “They broke her, Diana. She wasn’t always like that. But they took more than just her body, and they left her empty.”

  “Yeah, well, she left me empty,” Diana sobbed. She paused, shaking her head. “I needed to be loved, Lorraine. I was fourteen. He was twenty. Told me I was special. Held me and told me he loved me.” She smiled, but there wasn’t an ounce of joy. “He kissed me, so soft and sweet. When it happened, I didn’t like it. Told him I didn’t want to do it again, but I did. Over and over, because in those five or ten minutes that it took for him to do what he wanted, I mattered to somebody.”

  Lorraine’s round body seemed to crumble under the weight of that admission. “She loved you in her own way, Diana.”

  Diana shook her head. “No, she didn’t. She didn’t know how. She died not knowing how to love me at all.”

  She slipped on her shades, blocking out what little sun had decided to make an appearance.

  “Goodbye, Lorraine,” she said turning and walking back to her car.

  Chapter 5

  Diana hadn’t had a drink in more than a year, but tonight, one was sorely needed. She was packed and ready to get the hell out of this town first thing in the morning. Tonight, she would eat all the things she couldn’t eat when she was training and get sufficiently drunk before heading back to luxury accommodations at the Comfort Inn across the street.

  “I’d heard you were in town.”

  She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That voice of his hadn’t changed.

  “Go away,” she said, tipping a tumbler of gin and tonic to her lips.

  He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. “Is that any way to talk to an old friend?”

  She glanced over at him. The years hadn’t been kind. In fact, they’d been downright disrespectful. Dwight Reynolds, the first man who’d ever lied his way between her thighs, only to act like she was invisible when he saw her out in public.

  “Lookin’ damn good, baby girl.”

  He’d grown thick around the middle, wore a black and silver goatee, and a low hair-cut.

  “I heard you were some kind of prize fighter now,” he said, squinting and tilting his head to one side as though unable to still see her as the little girl he once knew. “Why would you ever want to subject a pretty face like that to fighting?”

  She wasn’t drunk, but she was buzzed and feeling pretty damn inconsiderate. “So, what is it you want, exactly?”

  “Why you gotta be like that?” He came so close to actually pouting that she felt embarrassed for him.

  “Because I can be,” she said, flagging down the waitress who came right over. “Can I get my check, please?”

  “You staying at the hotel?”

  She didn’t answer, thinking he’d consider her rude and leave. Of course, he wasn’t that smart.

  “We had some good times, sweetheart.”

  “No, you had some good times,” she snarled. “I was a fourteen-year-old kid who tolerated a child molester.”

  Diana didn’t bother waiting for the waitress, pulled forty-dollars from her purse and left it on the table before heading to the exit.

  “Dirty Diana,” she heard someone yell on her way out. “You wanted me as much as I wanted you,” he said, making the mistake of following her out into the parking lot and grabbing hold of her arm.

  Instinct.

  Diana jerked away from him, spun around and landed a hard right to his ribs, and an uppercut to his chin.

  Not enough juice behind it. Damn!

  He stared, shocked at her, but unfazed. He raised his left arm and swung it through the air, landing the back of his hand flush against the side of her face.

  Breathe, Diana. Pace yourself. Pay attention.

  His blow stung, but she’d had worse. Matching his upper body strength was damn near impossible, but Diana’s legs were powerful, and her greatest weapon.

  “Who the fuck you think you hittin’?”

  “A bitch,” she said with a smirk.

  Dwight lunged at her. She took a step back, spun again, and this time, landed a blow to his chest with her foot, sending him stumbling backward and off balance.

  Attack D!

  She came at him, with two hard blows with her fists to his nose, feeling cartilage crush beneath her knuckles, then kneed him in the groin, forcing him to the ground.

  “Whoa. Whoa,” someone yelled, wrapping both arms around her waist and pinning her arms down at her sides.

  She attempted to head-butt whomever held her from behind but missed.

  “Try that again and I’m taking your little ass to jail,” he warned.

  “He started it,” she shot back.

  “That bitch broke my nose,” Dwight said, blood gushing through the space between his fingers.

  The man holding her let go.

  “I’m pressing charges,” Dwight barked, clutching his nuts.

  The cop she remembered from the speed stop a few days ago looked at Dwight, then back at her, then back to Dwight and then back at her once again. “What are you? Five-two, three?”

  Diana shrugged. “Something like that.”

  “Buck-thirty?”

  “Give or take,” she replied, glaring at Dwight.

  Then the cop looked back at Dwight. “She won, Dwight?”

  Laughter rang out from those who came out to watch the exchange. Rage mixed with embarrassment filled his eyes. Dwight muttered something rude under his breath and stalked off.

  The cop caught up with her as she made her way across the street to the hotel.

  “Are you alright, Miss Rigby?” he asked, grabbing her by the arm.

  Diana stopped abruptly, adrenaline still burning underneath her skin, and glared at him, stunned by the fact that he knew her name.

  He raised his hands in surrender. “I asked if you were alright?”

  No. She wasn’t alright. Dwight was vermin, but he didn’t deserve that. For some insane reason, a dam burst inside, a storm of emotions flooded through, ushering in a thunderstorm of tears.

  Chapter 6

  Diana Rigby was a beautiful woman. A broken, defensive, and beautiful woman, who, apparently, had grown weary of having to be strong her whole life. She sat across the table from him cradling a cup of steaming, hot coffee between her hands, feeling the way she did the night she lost her last MMA fight and her title.

  “I never meant to come back here,” she whispered, her gaze fixed on the liquid in that cup. “I thought I’d been gone long enough to be different.”

  She wiped away a tear that had managed to escape and was making a run for her chin. “I didn’t expect for this place to affect me like this.”

  Jake had heard things, especially since she was back. Dirty Diana. Not white enough. Not black enough. She had a reputation for being loose, for lack of a better term. Looking for love in all the wrong places because she obviously wasn’t getting it from the one place she needed it most.

  “You could always count on Dirty Diana for a good time.”

  Good for who, though? Certainly not for a young girl, who had probably been taught from birth that she wasn’t good enough or wanted. Guilt stuck in the back of his throat. If only he’d done something that first time he and the sheriff had answered the call to her house that day, maybe her life would’ve been different.

  “When do you plan on leaving?”

  “Tomorrow,” she replied, finally looking at him and nodding as though she needed affirmation.

  Pretty, hazel eyes blinked away more tears.

  “Momma’s dead and buried.” She shrugged, and there was a world of hurt in that small movement. “I saw her one last time before she passed away. Not that it changed anything, but at least I saw her. “And she saw me,” she said with renew
ed strength. “She saw that she hadn’t broken me. My whole life, she tried to destroy me, but she didn’t. In her own way, she made me stronger.”

  Diana raised her chin in defiance. “She made me a champion.”

  “Is that what you plan on doing when you get home? Getting back into the ring?”

  She surprised him and shook her head.

  “No.” She forced a smile. “My days of fighting are over.”

  “Well, I don’t think Dwight got the memo,” he joked.

  Diana hesitated a moment, then laughed. He joined her, easing the tension.

  “Because you took it to him, Ms. Rigby. I don’t think he’ll be walking straight for the next couple of weeks.”

  “He was rude.”

  “I’m sure he was.”

  She stared at him, a warmth in those beautiful eyes that touched him to the core. “Thank you for not arresting me.”

  Was he blushing? “Not arresting you is certainly my pleasure.”

  “You look familiar,” she eventually said, studying him.

  “Well, I pulled you over the other day,” he said over the rim of his coffee cup.

  Except for the two of them, the only other people in the place were Sandra, the waitress, and Barry, the short order cook slash dishwasher. Every now and then, Jake caught a glimpse of him bobbing his head to the sound of Mary J., flooding the whole restaurant from the kitchen.

  She chuckled. “I remember that, but, I remember your face from a long time ago, before I moved away.”

  “Rhino’s small, Diana,” he offered, hoping she wouldn’t remember the day he showed up at her house when she was a kid and he did nothing to save her. “You probably seen me around, but I’m a bit older than you.”

  “Not by much.” She narrowed a gaze on him. “What? Ten years, maybe? I’m thirty-four,” she offered.

  “Forty-two,” he responded.

  Was it his imagination, or did she blush this time? He quickly resolved that his mind was playing tricks on him, because champion MMA fighters didn’t blush. He’d bet money on it.

  “Are you married?”

  “Not anymore.”

  Something about the expression in her sensual, soft eyes was alarmingly evident to him that she was no longer who he thought she was. Diana had suddenly flicked on a switch, and if he didn’t know better, he’d think that she was making a play for him. Of course, however, he knew better.

  “I’m staying at the Comfort Inn across the street,” she finally said, making and holding eye contact, sending him an unmistakable message.

  Beautiful Diana. Tempting Diana, wearing jeans and a top that hugged every lovely curve. He’d have had to have been a blind man not to notice the delicious swell of her breasts, the soft slope of her neck, or those full, soft lips.

  All of a sudden, she stood, glancing seductively over her shoulder at him, enticing him to follow her as she sauntered toward the door. Jake, feeling like a dog on a leash, dropped ten dollars on the table and quickly hurried behind her.

  Jake wasn’t the type to get caught up like this. Women flirted. He flirted back, but he’d always known where to draw the line when one needed to be drawn for his sake, or for the sake of someone else. Level-headed. That phrase might as well have been his middle name, because it’s who he was, what he’d always been, to the point of being downright boring. She’d captivated him, somehow. Put a spell on him that he couldn’t shake, and that was fine with him.

  One minute, the two of them were having coffee and the next, he was locking the door behind him in her modest hotel room. With her back facing him, Diana kicked off her shoes and wiggled out of her jeans, down to a pink, lace thong.

  The sight of her round bottom took his breath away. She turned to him, crossed her arms in front of her, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and raised it up and over her head, revealing a pink lace bra with dark nipples pressed against the fabric, taunting him and daring him not to take them into his mouth.

  He was so mesmerized by the sight of her, that her kiss caught him by surprise and left him reeling. Jake held her by the small of her waist as he backed her over to the bed. Damn! She tasted sweet. Jake’s kisses trailed down the soft, creamy space between her full breasts, her stomach, to her navel. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted a woman this badly, and nothing mattered more than burying and losing himself between the thick, soft thighs of this gorgeous woman.

  Jake stood over her, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, then looked into her eyes and saw those tears, those damning and desperate tears.

  Dirty Diana.

  The words stabbed at the heart of the lust he felt for her and slit it down the middle. Is this how it worked? When she ached inside, or felt afraid, or ugly, or heartbroken, was this what she did to get someone to pay attention, to hold her? She didn’t know him. Diana needed him, but not in the way she thought she did.

  “Come on, baby,” she purred, writhing on the bed, and reaching for him. “Please. Let’s do this.”

  It wasn’t pity that he felt for her. Pity would have been even more hurtful. It was time for her to learn a new lesson, and it was time for him to do what he’d failed to do all those years ago when she needed him to save her.

  Jake zipped his pants, right along with his desire to lose himself in her tonight.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, blinking confused and sorrowful eyes at him. “Don’t you want me?”

  He gazed upon that lovely woman, ignoring the ache in his pants. “I do, sweetheart. I want you more than you can ever possibly understand.”

  Jake leaned down, gathered her in his arms, held her close to his chest, and sat down on the side of the bed with her in his lap.

  “You let me earn the right to have you,” he whispered, as she melted against him and sobbed quietly on his shoulder.

  “I don’t understand,” she cried, holding on to him. “Don’t you think I’m pretty?”

  Jake kissed her forehead. “I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re amazing, and when you’re ready, I’ll show you.”

  Eventually, Diana cried herself to sleep. Jake laid her on the bed and held her close to him all night.

  Chapter 7

  Four Months Later in Seattle

  “How was your first day at your new gig?”

  Diana laughed, settling on the leather sofa in Loren Jefferson’s office. “Are you ever going to stop?”

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop working so hard not to sound like a therapist?”

  “Girl, please.” Loren rolled her big, brown eyes and sucked her teeth. “I am the dopest therapist you will ever meet in your life.”

  “Yeah, that’s what you keep telling me,” Diana sighed.

  Therapy. Once upon a time, it had been a dirty word, a word meant for crazy people and anybody else, other than her. Which was ironic considering she was the craziest person she knew. But she had come to depend on her “talks” with Loren more than she’d ever imagined possible.

  Diana had mastered the art of keeping people at arms distance, at least from her heart and her soul, and she’d done such a good job of it that one day she woke up and realized that she was utterly and completely alone.

  “Was it as awesome as I already know it was?” Loren grinned.

  Diana laughed. “It was amazing!”

  She was now a commentator on ESPN for the MMA and loved every minute of it.

  “Were you your perfect and magical self, girl?”

  “I did the damn thing.”

  Two snaps and wink.

  “Okay? I think they all thought I’d taken one too many blows to the head to be able to string words together to make a complete sentence, but my commentary and my analysis were on point,” she said proudly. “Everybody was impressed.”

  “Including you?”

  Diana nodded introspectively. “Especially me. I like being on this side of the ring a whole lot more than being on the other side.”

  “It suits you, Diana,” Loren s
aid warmly. “You look happy.”

  Happy. The sound of the word brought on a smile.

  “I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to stop seeing you,” she quickly added.

  “Good,” Loren agreed. “Because I’m not ready for you to stop seeing me either.” Loren leaned forward, picked up her tea-cup, leaned back, and took a sip. “So, what do you want to talk about today?”

  Diana sighed and paused, giving the question some considerable thought before responding.

  “I’m starting to realize that life doesn’t always wrap things up in a nice package and tie them off with a pretty bow.”

  Loren nodded. “True.”

  “And that sometimes, you never get the answers to the questions you ask. Resolution doesn’t necessarily look like you thought it would, and you might not ever get that apology, or revenge, or whatever retribution you feel you may have coming because, well, just because.”

  “Also true.”

  “I want to talk about how to make peace with all that.”

  Loren chuckled. “My girl. Way to keep me on my toes.”

  Louise Rigby had died without ever telling her daughter that she was sorry for all the pain she’d caused her. She died without ever telling her she loved her. But, she left Diana a gold locket in her will. Inside was a picture of her mother when she was young, before Diana was born, and the woman looked like she had the whole world at her disposal. Diana would never be sure if her mother left that locket to show her that once in her life, she’d actually been a human being and not a monster. Or if she’d left it to her to show her what she had been like before Diana came along and ruined her life.

  “She loved you in her own way,” Lorraine still insisted. “I know you don’t believe it, but I know it. I know it the way I know my own name.”

  Diana resigned herself to the fact that believing something like that helped Lorraine to sleep better at night, and who was she to deny the woman her peace of mind?

  Diana had raced home from her session with Loren, stopping at the general store along the way. She was excited about tonight, as this was the first time the two of them had done this. Diana came in, made a quick dinner of seared salmon, and a tossed salad. She practically inhaled every morsel before showering, slipping into something cute, but not overtly sexy, and then watching the clock until 7 pm rolled around.