Fight Song: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Rocky River Fighters Book 3)
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Bonus Scene
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
Fight Song
Rocky River Fighters
Grace Brennan
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Bonus Scene
Coming Soon
Acknowledgments
In December, I lost one of my best friends. I had Snickers for almost sixteen years. My whole adult life, this dog was by my side, seeing me through every triumph and joy, comforting me through every failure, heartache, and sorrow. When he got sick right before Christmas and the vet told me there was nothing she could do—I was devastated. I had a decision to make that I never wanted put to me. I wanted to ignore it, wanted to pretend it wasn’t happening, and he’d live forever. But I couldn’t. And so I made a decision that very nearly broke me. I did what was best for him, and I let him go, even though I wanted to hold onto him with every fiber of my being.
I still haven’t fully covered from losing him. I don’t think I ever will. But writing helps. And since I was going to give Piper a dog anyway, I gave her Snickers. The Snickers in this book is my baby. Fictional Snickers has the same quirks, the same personality, that real life Snickers had. The majority of the situations and scenes with Snickers in this book are things that really happened. Writing it, and then rereading it, were both healing and painful, all at once. But I wanted to give my Snicks a place in a world I love. And I wanted you all to get to know, just a tiny bit, the furry love of my life.
I love you, Bubby Wubby Woo Woo. And I’ll miss you always. If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.
Copyright 2018 © Grace Brennan
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to, or downloaded from file sharing sites or distributed in any other way via the internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of Grace Brennan.
Cover Design: Melissa Gill with MGbookcovers
Piper McCoy gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, staring up at the sign in front of her. Welcome to Eagle Creek, Population 800. Blowing out a short breath, she tried to psyche herself up. She could do this. She could put her Mustang back in drive, and keep going. Absolutely, she could.
A bark came from the passenger seat, and she looked over to her miniature Schnauzer, Snickers, gazing at her expectantly, and she could see encouragement in his brown eyes. Peeling one hand off the steering wheel, she reached over and scratched his ear.
“You’re right. I got this. I’m strong enough now.”
Smiling when Snickers cocked his head at her, she took a deep breath and put the car in drive. Checking for traffic, she pulled back on the road and drove slowly into town. Not much had changed in the eight years she was gone, but she hadn’t expected much to. Eagle Creek never changed, other than when people left. Just like she had.
Pulling into a parking spot, she swallowed hard as she stared at the bakery in front of her. Mansfield’s was dark, and the closed sign on the front door taunted her. The only time it had ever been closed was on Sundays. Her grandparent’s always said Sunday was the Lord’s day, and they refused to open it. But still, it never felt like this back then. This felt irrevocable.
“It is, dummy. Grandma will never open it again,” she muttered to herself.
Breath hitching, she fought back tears as her grandmother’s death hit her all over again. She should have come back sooner, no matter how painful the memories were. She always intended to, but the more time that passed, the harder it became.
And now she’d never get that back. Never be able to see her grandmother again. A lick on her wrist got her attention, and she looked over to see Snickers watching her. People thought she was crazy when she mentioned it, but to her, he had different expressions, just like any human did. Right now, he was gazing at her with concern.
“I’m okay, Snicks. Promise.”
Taking a deep breath, she put the car in reverse and backed out. She still had to face her grandparent’s house, and there was no way she could tackle the bakery in the same day. It was a short drive, and once she was there, she didn’t hesitate. She couldn’t, or she would never make herself go inside. Quickly snapping Snickers’ leash on, she opened her door and let him jump over her lap before she got out.
Inhaling deeply, she gazed around the quiet street. This was one of the older sections in Eagle Creek, and the street was lined with old Victorian homes. All well kept, with large yards, it was always one of her favorite places in this small town.
Stalling. She was stalling hard. With another deep breath, she turned to face her grandparent’s house. The two-story home was pale blue with white trim, with a large wrap around porch. The sidewalk was lined with flower beds that led to a sweeping staircase up the porch. The flowers continued, branching out on either side of the porch in a riotous display of colors. She looked up and gazed at the turret where she’d spent years as a child pretending to be a princess, waiting on her prince to rescue her from her tower. As she grew older and left those thoughts behind, the window seat had turned into her go-to spot to read.
But she’d still have the occasional fantasy. Only this time, it wasn’t a faceless prince who would scale the house to get to her, but Jax. Her heart would skip a beat every time she saw him striding up the sidewalk, and—
No. No, she wasn’t going there. Jax was part of a past she wanted no part of. Shaking him from her mind, she continued her perusal. Everything looked to be well maintained, just like it was when she first arrived on her grandparent’s doorstep. She’d been six, heartbroken over just losing her parents, and terrified of coming to live with virtual strangers. But when she stepped out of the car and saw the house, it all fled for a moment. To her child’s eye, it looked like Barbie’s dreamhouse, and some of her terror receded at the thought of living there.
Smiling in remembrance, she found her key to the house and made her way up the sidewalk, Snickers at her side. She was glad whoever her grandmother hired to keep the place up was doing a good job. She tried hard to persuade her grandmother to move after grandpa died, but Helen Mansfield refused to be budge
d. A part of Piper always worried that the house and grounds would be in disrepair when she finally came back.
Unlocking the door, she opened it and waited for Snickers to go in before she did. Closing the door behind her, she stood for a moment, tears pressing against her eyelids at the absolute silence of the house. She took a shaky breath as she bent down to unclip the leash from Snickers’ collar. She had to get a grip on her emotions. It had been a month of tears since Helen died, and her grandmother would have slapped her upside the head if she knew Piper was still mourning so fiercely. Just like she had when grandpa died while Piper was in college.
Willing the tears back for what she vowed would be the last time—today at least—she looked around, taking everything in. It was just the same as it was when she last saw it eight years ago, and relief washed over her again. The wooden floors had a thin layer of dust on them, as did everything, she noticed, but under that, she could tell they were clean. The wide hallway led to a large staircase, and behind that was a bathroom and the kitchen. To her right was the parlor, to her left her grandfather’s office. Farther back was the informal living room.
Quickly peeking into each room, avoiding the kitchen because of memories, she was relieved to find them all in great shape. If she’d been back sooner, she would have known all that, and she berated herself again for not being able to make herself visit. Her grandmother had flown to see her in Seattle a couple times a year, but Piper should have sucked it up and come home, as well.
Snickers was occupied sniffing the home out, so she went back outside to get her luggage. Her Mustang looked so out of place here, and she smiled as she saw an elderly couple down the road squinting at it. Bright green with a black hood, the 1969 Mach 1 was gleaming in the sun. It had always been her dream car, and after her divorce, it had the double benefit of being a huge fuck you to her ex.
Unlocking the trunk, she reached in and got out her suitcase and Snickers’ food and water bowls, setting them down and shutting the trunk lid. She went to grab her stuff, jumping when she became aware of a person standing by the rear end of the car.
“Mrs. Denning! You scared me,” she said, slapping a hand to her racing heart.
“Piper,” she said, pulling Piper into a hug. “I’m so sorry about Helen. She was an amazing woman.”
Fighting back her cough at the cloud of Red perfume Mrs. Denning always wore, Piper gently disengaged from the hug. “Thank you again, Mrs. D.”
“I’m glad I saw you at the funeral a few weeks ago,” Mrs. Denning said as she eyed Piper with a critical and slightly disapproving expression. “I never would have recognized you today, and I would have called the police on you for breaking in.”
Fighting a smile, Piper nodded her head. “I’ve changed, I know.”
Placing her hand on Piper’s shoulder, she replied, “Not all change is good, dear. Now, I’m so glad you’ve come home. This place needs you. The bakery especially. It’s been around since your great-grandparent’s time, and it’s just not right it being closed for so long.”
Losing her amusement over Mrs. D’s remarks about her new look, Piper squirmed in discomfort. “I might not be staying very long.”
The elderly neighbor’s painted eyebrows rose before she nodded. “Ah, yes, you probably need to bring more of your stuff. Unless you have a moving truck bringing it. That’s probably a better way to do it. It’s a long drive from Seattle.”
“No, that’s not it. Once I go back to Seattle, I’ll be staying there.”
“Staying there? But what about the house and the store?”
Blowing out a breath, Piper reluctantly answered, “I’ll probably sell them.”
“What?” Mrs. D squawked loudly, making Piper wince. “Sell them? They’ve been in your family for generations!”
“Mrs. D, I have a life in Seattle. I can’t just—”
“Your home is here. But I guess more has changed than your appearance. You’re not the girl I once knew, Piper.”
Heart heavy, Piper watched as Mrs. D made her way back to her own house. You have no idea how much I’ve changed, she thought. She vowed that she would never put herself in a position of vulnerability again, and being back home was just doing just that. She had to get back to Seattle soon. The month she allotted herself to get everything straightened out here suddenly seemed far too long.
Jax St. James strummed a few chords on his guitar, then stopped to write a few lines down. Staring at what he wrote for a moment, he exhaled and balled the paper up, throwing it at the wall. Nothing he wrote felt right. Nothing he played sounded right. It hadn’t for a few weeks. And he could pinpoint the exact moment his music came to a screeching halt.
When he found out Piper McCoy was coming back to town.
His eagle woke up just at the thought of his mate’s name, desperately urging Jax to go find her. Resisting the urge to chuck his guitar at the wall, he stood and placed it in the stand. Casting a longing glance at his drums, he walked out, jogging down the two flights of stairs from his attic room, heading to the barn where the fighters trained.
He longed to play his drums right now, as he did whenever something pissed him off. Or when, like right now, he felt an emotion so strongly, he had to have an outlet. Which, if he was honest with himself, was almost any time he thought about Piper. But it was late, and Shelby, Ian’s daughter, was already in bed.
All shifters had a special gift, something they were inherently good at. Some had mental gifts, but some were physical. His was music. He could play any instrument set in front of him like he’d taken lessons from birth, and composing came easily to him. He mostly played his guitars, and sometimes his saxophone. But the drums were his emotional outlet. And he wanted to drum so badly right now, but he couldn’t wake the house. So fight training it was.
Not bothering to wrap his hands, he walked up to the punching bag and started going at it. Hit after hit, kick after kick, trying to work some of what he was feeling out. But when sweat was pouring down his body and he finally started wearing out, he was still feeling everything too intensely.
“Thinking about Piper?”
Groaning at Ian’s question, he let his head fall against the bag for a moment. “Bringing up her name isn’t going to help.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Huffing a breath, Jax turned around to glare at Ian. “Do I ever?”
“Maybe you should.”
“No.”
Ian huffed his own breath, his bright blue eyes exasperated. “I know it’s been hell on you. You and your animal have been miserable for the last eight years. But a lot has changed since then. If she’s coming back—”
“Nope. Don’t fucking go there, Ian. I’m not risking her,” Jax said shortly, walking past Ian to the door, shedding his clothes as he went. He had to shift. Now. Or he was going to tear shit up, starting with his best friend.
“So much is different, Jax!” Ian called after him.
Not bothering to reply, as soon as he was clear of the barn Jax bent at his knees and launched himself into the air, shifting as he went. He knew most shifters felt pain when they shifted, but he didn’t. Just a weird and hard to explain shrinking feeling, and pricks over his skin when his feathers sprouted.
Soaring into the air, he circled Rocky River a few times, and then flapped his wings, changing direction. He knew where his eagle was heading, and Jax wasn’t going to fight him on it. He wanted to go there, too. He flew for a bit before town was visible, and once there, he circled above the bakery once before heading to the Mansfield’s house. Although he guessed it was Piper’s house now. At least until she sold it and hightailed it back out of town.
It didn’t take long to get there, and he saw the backyard from a good distance away, with his enhanced eagle vision. There was the yard he and Piper spent so much time in as kids. The gazebo they’d spent so much time making out in as teenagers. So many memories, just in the yard.
Beginning to circle the old Victorian, he stalled in the a
ir as he spotted the car in the driveway. It was only when he started freefalling through the air that he started flapping his wings again.
Piper was back.
Motherfucking hell, Piper was back.
There were so many emotions coursing through him, he couldn’t even begin to separate them. But despite it all, if he could have smiled in this form, he would have. She’d done it. She’d gotten her dream car. As far back as he could remember, she wanted a classic Mustang. He couldn’t help the pride he felt at her realizing her dream.
He flew above the house until the lights went off inside, disappointed that he never caught a glimpse of her. But maybe it was best he hadn’t. He might not have been able to control himself if he had, and an eagle landing in front of her and changing into a totally naked man might not have gone over well, since she didn’t know what he was.
The flight back to Rocky River went fast, and he landed by the barn, immediately shifting back to human form and pulling his clothes on. He headed to the porch where he sat down in his usual chair, enjoying the quiet night and thinking over what Ian said.
He was right about all of it. Everything was different now. Most of his colony was gone, scattered all over. His asshole dad was dead now, so problem solved there. But it was his grandfather who always posed the biggest threat, and he was still alive and kicking.
There wasn’t much his grandfather could do now. Back when Jax lived here as a kid, his colony was lead by a committee, with his grandfather as chancellor. He was powerful, and everyone, committee included, bowed to his wishes. The committee was more or less worthless, and just there for tradition and formality. Everyone knew Harlan St. James ran the colony, and with it, Eagle Creek.