Fighting for Flight

by J. B. Salsbury

  Tying my hair in a low knot, I head out to find Jonah. I freeze in the hallway at the sound of two male voices. Jonah’s voice is as recognizable as my own, but who is the other? I tiptoe closer and make the voice out to be Owen. Veiled in the shadows, I listen in.

  “I have too much to lose. I can’t afford to lose everything.”

  “Dude, I get that, I do. But just give it some time. You might find a way to figure something out.”

  “What other choice do I have? I have to end this.”

  “You’re going to hurt her.”

  Silence, then, “I know.”

  “I don’t like it, Jonah. She’s been through so much already. She’s not going to handle this well. You have to know that.” Silence. “All right, at least do it sooner than later. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, just get it over with.”

  “Yeah, I will.”

  My heart plummets into an icy black hole. It’s impossible to breathe past the constricting burn in my chest. I bend at the waist, hands on my knees, trying not to pass out. My head pounds with the beat of my racing heart. I pray that the numbing will come and ease the ache, but my body takes no prisoners as my stomach coils in agony. I lean my back against the wall, pressing my fingers to my sternum, as if I could physically push back the pain. The slight sting is on my cheeks from the tears I didn’t know I’d cried. Hearing about the pain of a broken heart doesn’t do justice to feeling the crippling devastation. This is a broken heart.

  Of course, he’s leaving me. Why wouldn’t he? Everything he’s worked for his entire life is waiting for him. His career is taking off, the title fight only weeks away. That’s his priority.

  The voice in my head reminds me of what I really am. I’m the daughter of a pimp and a hooker bred for a lifestyle of meaningless sex and money. It all makes sense now. My mother never saw me as her child . . . as a child at all. I’m nothing more than a prized animal—a product they can profit from. Who was I to think I could have a future with Jonah? My future is in that world, not his.

  “Hey, how long have you been standing here?”

  Long enough for you to destroy me. “Oh, um, I don’t know. Not long.” My voice sounds like it’s been trampled by a herd of buffalo.

  He cups my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His warm eyes and empathetic smile threaten to burst the floodgates, so I look past him.

  “Baby, you’re crying.” He dries my tears with his thumbs.

  I shrug and force my mouth into a smile.

  “Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

  He hugs me to his side and guides me into the kitchen. My muscles relax and my pulse slows, comforted by his touch. Apparently my traitorous body isn’t aware that Jonah’s done with us. Leaning down, he kisses tenderly his favorite spot on my neck then pulls back a fraction to my ear.

  “I love you.” His warm breath combined with the power of his words make me tremble in his arms.

  I finish his declaration with an unspoken, but we can’t be together. “I love you too.”

  And I do. That’s why I don’t mention the conversation that I overheard. I know love doesn’t conquer all, that it’s not always enough. I know that Jonah has to look out for himself. He can’t afford to be wrapped up in my life, and part of me is at peace about that. I want him, but more than that, I want him to be happy—to have a life with a woman who can love him the way he deserves to be loved: a woman free from the ugliness of my reality.

  “How you feelin’, princess?” Owen asks.

  “I’ve been better.”

  His dark eyes study mine. “Right. Well, I’m gonna take off.” He steps to me and tugs me from Jonah’s hold for a hug. His arms linger a little too long, making it feel like a long-term good-bye.

  He releases me with a final squeeze. I don’t miss the look he gives Jonah or what it communicates. He’s not happy that Jonah’s breaking up with me, but he understands.

  The rest of the evening passes like a dream. Only half-conscious most of the time, my mind pounds away at Dominick’s words. Plans to escape my fate form in my head, but they all end in one reality. I can’t protect everyone. And losing anyone I love is a risk I’m not willing to take.

  Jonah treats me like I’m made of glass. He feeds me, bathes me, and dresses me for bed. He holds me in the dark, whispering words of comfort while twisting tendrils of my hair around his fingers.

  I want to tell him that it’s okay, I understand why he has to let me go, but words fail me. Physically incapable of walking away from him, I choose to take this moment. I wrap myself up in it, absorbing all the love I can from his touch, hoping it will be enough to last me through a lifetime without him.

  ***

  I open my eyes to a new day. The sun bathes the room in yellow, but I refuse to move. For the first time, I don’t feel Jonah behind me as I do every morning. I try not to think about what’s ahead, but live in the moment. And this moment sucks.

  Staring at the digital clock on the bedside, I watch the minutes tick by. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to get up and go to work. But leaving Jonah’s bed, knowing it may be the last time I’m here, is a mountain I’m not ready to face. I sigh, long and hard.

  “You awake?” His voice comes from my back, but he’s across the room.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tight. Do this for him. Don’t make it harder than it has to be.

  Rolling over, I see him in the club chair across the room.

  “Good morning.” I say, my voice feeling a little stronger than yesterday, but no less scratchy.

  “Good morning, beautiful.”

  I sit up and notice that his hair is damp from the shower and he’s dressed for the day. “Where are you off to so early?” My heavy heart drops to my stomach like an anvil.

  He stands and makes his way to the bed, plopping down beside me with a huff. “I have some things to do today. Just, um, work stuff.”

  He’s avoiding my eyes. This is it. He’s breaking up with me.

  “Oh, but I thought you had today off?” I want this to be easy for him, and I know I should just nod and let him walk away, but instinct has me clamoring.

  “Yeah, well, I got called in for a meeting. With the fight coming up, there’s a lot of publicity stuff.” He pushes his hand through his hair then rubs the back of his neck. “I wanted to know if you could stay with Eve tonight.”

  And there it is.

  I swallow a whimper that threatens to shoot from my lips. Blood rushes in my ears distorting his words as he makes excuses about training late.

  Unshed tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let on. Make this easy for him. He deserves that much.

  “Sure, that won’t be a problem. But really, I can stay at my place.” You won’t be around to protect me anymore.

  His expression hardens, making his jaw tick. “Raven, promise me you’ll stay at Eve’s. I can’t sleep knowing you’ll be alone at your place.”

  With a nod and a smile, I agree. I have no intention of staying at Eve’s, but if it makes what he’s doing easier, he can believe I am.

  Leaning in, he brushes his lips against mine then kisses my neck at his spot. He pulls back to look me in the eyes and I see something there. Regret? Loss?

  “I’ll try to call you later.”

  Try?

  “Okay.”

  Standing with purpose, he walks away.

  “I love you, Jonah Slade.” My whispered words are said to the door that he closes behind him.

  ~*~

  Jonah

  “Come on, Blake, answer the door!”

  I’ve been knocking on his door for the last ten minutes. I know he’s home because I saw his Jeep parked downstairs.

  I bang on the door again. “Blake, open up!”

  I hear him fumbling with the lock and the door swings open. Blake is standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. His eyes are half shut and his face puffy with sleep and a possible hangover.

  “Fuck, man. Where’s the fire?�
�� His voice is rough and laced with irritation.

  “I need to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

  “What?” He yawns, scratching his chest. “Dude, it’s like six o’clock in the morning.”

  “It’s ten o’clock, idiot.”

  “Oh, well then, come on in.” He gestures dramatically with his arm, and I push past him into his place.

  “What the hell happened to you? You look like shit.”

  “You don’t want to know,” he says on a groan.

  “You alone?”

  He stares at me and his eyebrows drop low. “No. Why?”

  “I need what I’m about to say to be kept private.” My eyes dart to the hallway that leads to his room, then back to him. “You mind sending your sleepover guest home?”

  “Fuck. Yeah, hold on.”

  He disappears down the hall, and I walk to the other end of his living room. Last thing I want is a front row seat to the dismissing of his overnight guest. I watch out the ten-foot-tall window of his modern townhouse and shudder at the show his neighbors must get most nights.

  “But, I thought you said you’d make us breakfast,” a female voice whines from the hallway.

  “Yeah, you said you’d feed us your sausage,” says another.

  Fucking Blake.

  “Change of plans, ladies. Maybe next time.”

  “Aww.” The disappointed reply sounds in unison.

  Blake walks to the door with two girls. One stumbles, trying to slip on her high heel, while the other shoves a wad of lace and silk into her tiny purse. I recognize them immediately as Cage Girls. And I am intimately familiar with both.

  “Hey, Jonah.” The tall blonde calls out as she passes me in the living room.

  I nod.

  The brunette tosses me a wave. “Hi, Jonah.”

  “All right, ladies, thanks for last night . . . and this morning.”

  He all but shoves them out the door, slamming it behind them.

  “Screw you later,” he mumbles.

  I shake my head. “You’re a pig.”

  “So were you once.” He plops down on the couch, still in his underwear.

  “You want to get some fucking clothes on?”

  He looks at me like I just asked him to wear a dress. “You want to tell me why you’re beating down my door at the shit crack of dawn?”

  Dropping down in the seat across from him, I fill Blake in on my situation. His jaw locks down as I tell him every detail of Raven’s meeting. A whispered curse breaks free when I tell him about how I found her after.

  “That motherfucker!” Blake jumps up from the couch to pace the room.

  “I have a plan, but I need your help. I know Dominick is part owner of Zeus’s. I need you to get with one of the girls and find out when he goes in there.”

  He’s still pacing and hasn’t acknowledged that I’ve said a word.

  “Blake. Can you do that?”

  He stops and turns toward me. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  Grabbing his phone, he takes his seat back on the couch, this time not slumped over, but tense and leaning forward. “You’re not meeting with that asswipe alone. I’m going with you.”

  “No, I have to do it alone. I won’t drag you into this.”

  He pins me with a glare. “Drag me into this?” His arm shoots out to point a finger to his wall window. “That girl’s cool as shit.” He points at me. “She’s your girl. That makes her my responsibility too.”

  “Blake, anything could happen. You sure you want to get messed up in all this?”

  He coughs out a laugh. “Let me ask you something. What’re you going to do when Morretti makes some comment about Raven taking cock for cash, huh?”

  I suppress a growl. A low vibration in my spine amplifies to a buzz. My teeth grind together and I scowl at Blake.

  “That’s what I thought. You’re going to flip the switch on that dicklick and he’ll shoot your dumb ass and claim self-defense. And where does that leave Raven, hmm?”

  I narrow my glare on him.

  “Exactly.”

  The cocky ass is right. Dominick will most likely try to get me riled up, and I can’t be responsible for what happens if he disrespects Raven.

  “You’re right. I’ll need you there. How soon can we get the ball rolling?”

  Blake already has his phone to his ear. “Selena, baby, it’s me. I got a question for you.”

  Fifteen

  Raven

  The bay doors slamming shut pulls me from the wiring of a ’57 Chevy. The halogen lights of the garage replace the sun that shone in when I started this project.

  Where did the time go?

  Drowning myself in work is a good distraction from the chaos in my head, but I’ve lost an entire afternoon.

  The awareness of time brings pain to the gaping void in my chest. I haven’t heard from Jonah all day. I didn’t expect him to contact me, but I hoped he would. I check my phone again. Nothing.

  “Wrap it up, Ray.”

  I grab my tools and find Guy in the back, putting things away.

  “Who’s on tomorrow?” I ask, tossing my set on a workbench.

  He doesn’t look up from an assortment of wire terminals. “Cane. Why?”

  “I thought I’d come in, you know, um, help out—”

  He bangs closed a metal toolbox. “What’s goin’ on, Ray?” He studies my face. “You’ve been zip-lipped all day, and from the look on your face, I’d say someone died.”

  That’s what it feels like. I shrug and pick grease from my nails, avoiding his eyes. “Nah, just thought I’d get some extra hours.”

  “You hurtin’ for money?”

  “No, it’s not that.” I just need to stay busy so I don’t have time to . . . feel.

  His bushy, gray eyebrows drop low, making the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced. “You and the boy havin’ problems?”

  I exhale, annoyed at my transparency.

  “You could say that. He has a lot on his plate with the fight coming up.” Guilt washes over me as I lie. I can’t tell him the truth. It’s too real.

  He leans against a workbench and crosses his ankles. “He tell you that?”

  I shake my head. “Our lives are too different.”

  “And different is a bad thing?”

  “You don’t understand,” I mumble to my feet.

  “I’ll tell you what I do understand. I see a boy who’s lived his life in the public eye for just shy of ten years. He’s made his taste in women obvious: quick, easy, and disposable. You step on the scene, he drops it all, stands toe to toe with me, and makes his intentions clear. Differences be damned. The boy’s crazy about you.”

  “Some differences are too big.”

  “You listen here, Ray. I’m no expert on relationships. Only been in love once. That was over thirty years ago. But I know it when I see it.”

  “You were in love?” I stare in shock at the self-proclaimed, lifetime bachelor.

  “Yep, fell in love with an angel.” His eyes get soft. “But she was engaged to someone else.”

  I don’t know what to say, but I want to hear more. I nod for him to continue.

  “You know what I did to mess it up?”

  “What?”

  “Nothin’. And that’s how I lost her.” He reflects in silence for a beat, studying the garage walls. He shakes his head. “I didn’t fight for her. I could have fought, tried to get her out from under her obligation, but I didn’t. Biggest mistake of my life.”

  “But she was engaged to someone else. How do you know she would have left her fiancé?”

  His face falls, eyebrows low, and he studies the floor. “I’ll never know. That’s what kills me.”

  The pain in his voice has me blinking back tears. “Was there never anyone else? After her?”

  “I love her. She’s it for me.” He’s not speaking in past tense.

  I can’t decide if that’s the saddest or the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,
and yet I’m destined for a similar fate. There will never be another love for me, not like Jonah. I can see how Guy would close himself off, subject to a lifetime sentence of loneliness for one girl. But the difference is that Guy’s love was worth the fight. He didn’t fight for her, but he lives with the regret because she was worth that. Not me.

  “Not everyone’s worth fighting for.”

  He steps close and places his hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes look deep into mine. “I’ve seen you two together: the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, like you’re the sun and he’s happily stuck in your orbit. Never seen you with a boy before so I can’t be sure, but seein’ you messed up in the head about it, I’m guessin’ you feel the same way. You guys got something special, Ray. Fight for it. It’s worth that.”

  His words rock me to the bone. Something deep and instinctual recognizes Guy’s words as truth, but I can’t get past my head: Jonah’s conversation with Owen, him pushing me off on Eve, not calling all day. All arrows point to a broken heart.

  My head throbs, and I have an overwhelming urge to be alone. “Thanks, G.”

  “You’re welcome. You don’t want to be me, lookin’ back on your life, wishing you could have another shot at something sweet.” He ruffles my hair then steps back. “Now, go get some sleep. You look like hell.”

  He throws his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the foot of my stairs. Departing with a wave, I watch him until he disappears around the corner.

  The weight of today pressing down, I drag my body up the stairs. A hot shower sounds better and better with each step. The motion light above my door flicks on, and I freeze as my foot hits the top step. Holy crud.

  The old door to my apartment is gone, and in its place is a solid, dark wood one with an enormous platinum handle. My jaw falls open as I study its features: a peep hole and three gleaming locks. I grab my keys and finger through the set to find . . . Yep, there it is: a shiny new silver key. Jonah must have slipped it on my key chain this morning. The corners of my mouth lift as I examine the product of his overprotective nature, and just as quickly as the smile comes, it fades. How will I live without him?