Fighting for Flight
Page 22
~*~
Raven
“Hand me the wrench?” Jonah’s big hand reaches out from beneath the Impala, and I slap the wrench into his palm.
We’ve been working on the Impala all morning in an attempt to take my mind off the fact that I haven’t heard from Eve. Hours pass, and still no word. I can’t just sit here and do nothing.
I’m assembling the new engine parts when I gather the courage to broach the issue with Jonah.
“If I don’t hear from her soon,” I scrunch my nose and pinch my eyes closed, “I’m going to her house.”
The metallic clank of a tool hitting the concrete floor bounces off the walls. My eyes remain fixed on the project before me.
I hear him slide on the dolly out from underneath the car. “Over my dead motherfucking body.”
I brace myself for an argument. With a determined scowl, I bring my eyes to his, steel in my resolve.
Worry and concern mask his usual easy smile, shattering my will. My shoulders slump and I lean on the workbench. “I’m worried about her.”
He stands and closes the space between us. “I know, baby. But I can’t let you go to her house alone. If you insist on stopping by, I’m going with you.”
I need to tell Eve about Vince, and I don’t want her to get embarrassed having Jonah there. Not to mention he turned her boyfriend into road kill just hours ago.
“No. I need to go alone.”
He wraps me in his arms and I go limp against his chest. “No way.”
I exhale, frustrated, but not surprised. “Jonah, I understand why you’re worried. But really, what’re the chances that Vince will be at her house? He’s probably hiding away with a tube of Neosporin and an ice pack after what you did to him.”
His arms tighten at the mention of Vince. “You aren’t going.”
Why does everything have to be so hard?
I tilt my head to see his face. “What’s the big deal? All I’ll be doing—”
“The big deal?” He lets me go and takes a few long strides back to the Impala. His hands spear through his hair. “The big deal is that the last time I let you go somewhere on your own, against my better judgment, you came back destroyed.” He leans into the car’s hood, arms bracing his weight, head down.
I step to the front fender. “Jonah.”
He turns his head, a tortured expression on his face. He’s right. I promised him, the night we made love for the first time, I’d never put him through that kind of worry again.
“Okay. I won’t go.”
With a murmured curse, his body weight collapses, and he pushes off the car.
“To her house. I’ll go to her work.” My determination is back, and he must see it in the seconds he studies my face.
“Fine. But only to her work. With plenty of people around. And call me before you walk in and the second you walk out. Understand?”
I grin, overwhelmed by how much I love my protective Jonah. “Okay.”
“I’m serious, baby. If you see—”
My phone chimes with a new text.
Just got your message. I’m fine, just slept in. Come on over. Eve.
I text her back and ask her what time she has to work. We agree to meet there a half an hour before her shift starts.
Jonah’s not satisfied with the plan, but at least he’s not chaining me to his bed for safekeeping, as he threatened. I promised him I’d meet him at the training center after I met with Eve so he could see with his own eyes that I’m okay.
He takes me to work to check in with Guy, looming in the background the entire time like some Adonis bodyguard. We hit my studio to feed Dog and pack some things. He finally left my side so I could meet with Eve, but only with the promise that I’d see him in less than an hour.
I pull into the parking lot of Nori Pizzeria right on time. Walking from my car to the front door, I notice Eve’s 2010 blue Mustang. I do a quick scan for Vince’s H2 and exhale in relief to see it’s not there.
I push through the front doors, and the aroma of garlic and butter make my stomach growl. Wax-covered Chianti bottles sit atop tables dressed in white butcher paper. A few waiters mill about, but no Eve.
“Raven! Hey, haven’t seen you here in a while.” Stephanie’s eyes dart around and behind me before landing on my face. “Where’s the hottie you’re dating?” The enthusiastic hostess flashes a hopeful smile. “Did you guys break up?”
She’s a cute girl, and I’ve never considered myself the jealous type, but my hand tingles with the desire to backhand that ready-and-willing look off her face.
“Mmm, nope. We didn’t break up.” I lay my forearm on top of the hostess stand and lean in. “We’re still very much together, if you know what I mean.” I give her a wink and watch the enthusiasm drain from her face.
Yeah, take that!
“Eve in the back?” I don’t wait for an answer and head to the kitchen with pep in my step.
She mumbles something I can’t quite make out as I push through the kitchen doors.
At the closed office door, I pause to refocus before knocking. I have no idea what kind of mood Eve will be in, and I can only hope she takes what I’m about to tell her well.
“Eve? You there?” I rap my knuckles against the door.
Her soft voice tells me to come in.
The room is dark except for a dim desk lamp. She’s sitting in her chair with her elbows on the desk and both hands on either side of her head. Not good.
I take the seat across from her. “Hey, Eve. How are you doing?”
“Humph.”
“That bad, huh?”
She doesn’t reply only drops her forehead to her desk.
“Look, about last night, I’m so sorry—“
Her head flies up, and she locks me in a narrow glare. “Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? This whole thing is my fault. I keep telling myself that this guy will be different. This guy won’t hit me or talk shit to me. They all seem so normal in the beginning. Or so I think.” Her head is back in her hands as she rubs at her temples. “God, Rave, I’m so fucked up.”
“Eve, you aren’t . . . effed up.”
Her puffy eyes narrow on mine again, and I decide this is a good time to shut up and listen.
“You know what I did last night after you dropped me off? I lay in bed all night with my phone on my chest, hoping he would call me. I wanted that piece-of-shit to call me and tell me that he was sorry, that he would never scare me again. If he would have shown up on my doorstep, I would’ve taken him back.” She falls back into her chair. “Still think I’m not fucked up?”
No, that sounded pretty screwed up to me. But, I wasn’t going to tell her that.
She’s beating herself up about Vince, feeling as though this is all her fault. If she knew that she was nothing more than a job to him, maybe it would help her to let him go and let herself off the hook.
“Listen, I tried to tell—”
“He held onto you,” she says with a distant sound to her voice.
“What?” I whisper.
“You were pulling away, almost out of his grasp. He let go of me. He held on to you.” She looks at me with tears pooling in her eyes and shame on her face. “I was jealous.” The tears burst free, creating rivers of pain down her face. “I’m so fucked up.”
She buries her face in her hands as her body shakes with sobs. I walk to her side of the desk and kneel down.
“Eve, there’s something I need to tell you. I didn’t tell you before because I was trying to protect you. But, you need to know now. None of this is your fault.”
Her bloodshot eyes lock on mine as I explain about Vince. I tell her about Dominick and what his plans are for me. I keep Jonah’s fight a secret, but I do tell her that Jonah, Dominick and I are working something out so that I don’t have to prostitute myself for the rest of my life. I finish by making it clear that, although I’m sure Vince has feelings for her, his intentions from the beginning were getting information to Domin
ick, and his holding me last night probably had something to do with that.
The silent minutes tick. Eve stares at the wall just over my shoulder. Her lips are moving, but no sound comes out. Sitting back on my heels, I wait for her to register the gaggle of putrid information I dumped on her.
“That fuckingpieceofshitmotherfucker!”
Stunned by her sudden outburst, I rock back, throwing an arm behind me to keep from falling to my butt.
“Fucking men! Piece-of-shit, no good, dick licking, motherfucking men!” She shoots out of her chair and paces the small space of her office. “That’s it!” Locking her wide eyes with mine, she throws her hands in the air. “I’m done. I’m switching teams. I despise men and from now on will only date women.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“Urrggh! My dad, your da—um, Dominick, Vince, every other sick fuck that came before him! I’m so fucking mad!” She’s back to pacing.
“Yes, I can see that,” I mumble.
I listen as Eve comes up with every possible combination for every possible curse word, and even some she invents on the spot. Having finally exhausted the English language, she sits back in her chair.
“Are you going to be okay?” I’m grateful to see her previously purple face fade to a splotchy red.
“Me? Hell yeah, I’ll be okay. I’m a lesbian now. I think the question is, are you okay?”
I think about how to answer, wanting to be as honest as I can.
“Yes, I believe I will be.”
And I do. I believe in Jonah and his ability. I believe in his love and his commitment to getting me away from Dominick. I believe in us and our future. That’s all I need.
“Thank you for telling me about Vince. I wish you’d told me earlier, but I don’t know if I would have listened. He really had me fooled.” She shakes her head.
“Just stay away from him, okay?” I lift my eyebrows, letting her know I expect an answer.
“Yeah! Of course.”
I nod, but something deep in my gut tells me she’s doesn’t have the self-control to stay away.
She stands up and wraps me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Rave.”
“I know. Me too.” I pull back, breaking the hug. “I’ll text you later tonight when you get off work. Are you sure you’re okay being alone at your place? Jonah said you’re welcome to stay in his guest room for as long as you want.”
“Yeah.” She waves me off with a flick of her hand. “I’m fine, but tell him thanks.”
“I will.” I walk out the door, but pop my head back into the office. “Don’t kill anyone from the male species tonight.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Leaving the restaurant, I can’t help but sympathize with every man who crosses paths with Eve.
***
“Excuse me, miss? You aren’t allowed in there unless you’re on my list,” a large rent-a-cop says as he taps his clipboard.
I’m stopped just short of the Training Center’s doors. I knew Jonah had some of the local media coming to interview him today, but this is like trying to get backstage at a U2 concert.
“Oh, of course. Um, Raven?” I hope Jonah put me on the list or I’m about to feel like a complete idiot.
He pushes his mirrored aviator sunglasses up the bridge of his nose with the tip of his index finger. His gaze starts at my feet and slides up my body. I cross my arms at my chest as I’m visually violated.
“I’m going to need to see some identification.”
He’s really taking this door security seriously. It Llooks like someone didn’t make the cut in cop school. I hand him my ID. He looks at his list, checks my driver’s license, studies my face, and is back to his list.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“All right. You’re all clear.” He hands back my card.
I’m surprised he didn’t need a blood sample. I nod in his direction and push through the doors.
The place is alive with activity. The murmur of voices hums in my ears as I gaze around the lobby. No sign of Jonah. I slide through the groups of people and down the hallway to the main training room. The guys are training as usual, but now they’re surrounded by cameras and news anchors. I push through about a dozen people in suits, most of whom are talking or texting on their cell phones.
Stretching up on my toes to see over their heads, I search for Jonah. I see Rex and Caleb boxing with two trainers I’ve never met. Owen is talking on camera, a very attractive news anchor wearing a low cut v-neck shirt and a miniskirt, holding a microphone to his mouth.
“Baby girl.” I jump and squeak at the sound of Blake’s voice at my shoulder.
“You scared me to death.” I place my hand over my heart.
His face is serious and thoughtful. No wisecrack come-ons or dirty jokes. He steps into my space, his green eyes boring down on me. “I heard about what happened last night.”
“Last night?” Memories of being naked above Jonah flood my mind. My cheeks flame. I smack my head with my palm. “Oh,Vince.” Of course, he would be talking about Vince.
“Yeah. Vince.” His eyes narrow and jaw tenses. “What did you think I was talking about?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” I blow it off with a disinterested shrug and pray the pink drains from my face.
He’s still staring. Blake’s never serious for this long. His face looks pained as he studies the space just above my head. I look up. Nothing there. What in the heck is he doing?
“Blake, you’re freaking me out.”
He looks at me, grief working behind his eyes before he blinks it away. “Look, I know . . .” He grimaces and stares at the floor, like he’s gathering strength from it. “I know what it’s like to have a no-good, asshole for a father. I’ve lived it. Still living it.” He rubs his shaved head. “It’s one thing to fuck with your son, but to fuck with a girl?” A half groan, half growl rumbles in his chest. His focus is fixed on me. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I got your back. And Jonah’s. You feel me?”
I rub my lips together, trying to smash the inevitable quiver. Whatever happened to Blake in his past is enough that the simple memory erases the man I know and replaces him with a scared, timid boy.
My eyes burn with forced back tears. This is too much. First Jonah and now Blake. They act like they would lay down their lives to protect me. That’s crazy. And unfamiliar. It feels like . . . family.
“Yeah, I feel you.”
His eyes sparkle and his cocksure smile returns. He leans toward me with his hand cupping his ear. “I’m sorry. Did you say you want to feel me?” He runs his hands over his chest. “Anywhere in particular or you want me to make suggestions? There’s one place, down—Ow!”
I smack him in the stomach, happy to see the anguish wiped from his face.
He rubs the spot at his belly where I hit him. “We need to get you in the octagon. Damn, that hurt.”
I shoulder bump him, and he takes his cue to pull me to his side. I don’t say a word, afraid that my voice might show the deep emotions I’m feeling.
“Come on. I’ll take you to your man.”
Twenty-three
Raven
Two days until fight day.
My mind is focused on installing a new timing belt on the Impala while the lulling voice of Al Green being so in love fills the air. I mentally inventory my progress. White wall tires, a paint job, and she’s done.
Bent over with my head under the hood, I feel a tight grip on my hips. Jonah’s touch has become a second skin, as recognizable as my own. I smile and gently press my backside into his groin.
“You wanna tell me what it is you’re hiding from out here?”
He’s managed to figure me out in the short time we’ve been together. Come to think of it, he seemed to read me pretty well after a few days.
I straighten from beneath the hood on a sigh. His hands slide from my hips to my stomach and I melt into him. His touch in any capacity renders me totally helpless.
> “I’m not hiding. I’m processing.”
With my hair pulled up high on my head, my neck is at his mercy. He kisses his spot before gently nipping. I shiver.
“You’re freakin’ out because that formal dinner is tonight and because my mom is coming into town tomorrow.” His ability to read me can also be incredibly annoying.
“Yeah.” Can’t a girl have a secret? “I don’t do well with parents. What if she doesn’t like me? I’m sure she’s really protective of you. I mean if you were my son I would be too. It’s just . . . I know how my mom feels about me . . .”
I’m unable to finish my thought, not wanting to hear the words out loud. The fact is I’m pretty sure my mom hates my guts. She must blame me for her horrible life. If she never had me, she would have been able to run away from Dominick and have a chance at a real life or love. How could she not hate me? Thinking about it makes me hate myself.
“She’s going to love you, baby. She’ll be charmed by you just like everyone else.”
I wish I had his confidence.
“Besides, you don’t know how your mom feels about you. I know her actions show that she doesn’t care, but maybe she doesn’t know how to show you how she feels. Maybe she thinks you hate her. Hell, you have every right to.”
I usually brush off the subject of my mom when it comes up, but something deep inside tugs at me. His love has given me a safe place to fall. I can give him a piece of me. With his chest pressed to my back, I won’t have to witness the pity in his eyes. I can do this.
“When I was a little girl, I used to sneak into her bed at night.”
His arms tense and his chest flexes against my back.
“I would curl up next to her, desperate to feel the heat from her skin. I remember I would slowly inch my hand closer and closer, so afraid to wake her, until I could touch just the tip of my finger to her back or her arm. Sometimes I would just loop a strand of her long hair around my finger.”
My voice drops to a whisper as I’m taken back to those nights. I feel small and insignificant. Crushed with sadness, my lungs struggle for a full breath.
“I usually only got a minute or two before she’d wake up. It was as if she could sense me, even in her sleep, like my very presence triggered an internal alarm system that told her to get away. She would make me go back to my bed. Some nights I’d be so angry and desperate I’d refuse to leave.” My humorless laughter breaks with emotion. “She would get sick of telling me to get out, and she’d go sleep on the couch. She’d rather sleep on the couch than with her own daughter.”