Fighting for Flight

by JB Salsbury

  “No questions.” Blake’s voice draws my attention. He tilts his head towards the octagon’s exit.

  I scan the seats where Raven was sitting. People crowd around the octagon. Security pushes them back. My eyes pick apart each person, and, still, no Raven.

  “Where is she?”

  Blake grips the chain link, focused and scanning. “They’re gone. They were right there.” He points to the row of seats they were in just seconds before the fight ended.

  My hands rake through my hair. No. This cannot be fucking happening. My aching muscles contract as my fists tighten. She couldn’t have gone far. I continue to scan the area, hoping her face will appear in the crowd. Still nothing. I’ll pick this entire place apart, one motherfucker at a time, until I find my girl.

  “‘Assassin!’ Great fight! Can you tell us what it feels like to have won—”

  Blake shoves the commentator in the chest, sending him back and landing ass to mat. “No fucking questions.” Blake towers over the downed reporter before turning back to me. “Shit.” He sounds annoyed as if the guy was nothing more than an obnoxious mosquito.

  He looks over my shoulder.

  “There’s your mom.” Blake’s voice rises above the roar of the crowd. I follow his stare.

  She’s standing at the floor of the arena, on tiptoes, eyes searching. In a few long, purposeful strides I’m in her space.

  “Mom, where’s Ra—”

  “Oh, Joey, you were great! Congratu—” She moves to embrace me, but I catch her wrists, forcing her eyes to mine.

  “Mom. Where’s Raven?”

  Her smile falls and her eyebrows pinch together. “Raven? Honey, Candy took her back to your dressing room, just like you asked her to.”

  Dread drops in my stomach, threatening to bring me to my knees.

  “Fuck me. I knew that skanky-ass ho was up to no good,” Blake says from behind me.

  Mom’s face pales and her eyes implore mine. “Jonah, what’s going on?”

  I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. But I’m sure as shit going to find out.

  My feet burn with unspent energy. I race up the stairs two at a time. Weaving my way through the crowd, I shove people aside when they don’t move fast enough. I burst through the double doors and run down the corridor to my dressing room. My foot hits the door with the force of a battering ram, splintering the wood frame.

  “Raven. You in here?” I rush through the room in search of my girl. But even as my hopeful eyes continue their search, I know she’s gone. This was Dominick’s plan all along. Send Candy in for distraction and extraction. Like placing the last piece into a puzzle, everything now makes sense.

  I flip the coffee table upside down. “Fuck!”

  Raven is in the hands of a madman. My hands rip through my hair. I should have known Dominick would pull some backhanded shit. Now my girl is with a psycho who uses his own daughter as a pawn in his sick games.

  Resolve burns deep in my chest. My heart pounds with intent. The buzz between my ears throbs and floods my body. My veins surge with revenge in lethal potency. A plan forms in my head. My lips curl as my teeth clench.

  I’m going to get Raven back tonight. I don’t care who I have to kill to do it.

  ~*~

  Raven

  I float in a void, a black hole, tossed on waves of dark smoke. No feeling. Just . . . nothingness. A faint sound taunts me. Calling me to its comfort. I want to move towards it, but can’t grip consciousness enough to move.

  An urgency to fight the dark fuels my blood. I push against the fade. The sound gets louder. The soothing vibrations tickle my ear as I try to place it. The sound is as familiar as my own name. I concentrate harder.

  An engine. A small one, sedan maybe.

  I push harder and hear a moan deep in the distance.

  Is that me?

  The engine is joined with the rhythmic beat of music. I strain to hear it and surface from the murky depths. Feeling returns to my body in sections of warmth like a hot towel lying on bare skin. I orient myself. I’m on my side. My eyelids are heavy as I push to get them open.

  I wiggle my fingers and roll my wrists. They’re tied together. My mind struggles to place myself. I remember Katherine. My heart cramps. The fight. Jonah. The text. Candy.

  Fucking Candy!

  Adrenaline fuels my muscles and I force open my eyes. I’m in the backseat of a car. The driver is a man; that much I can tell from the back of his head. No other passengers. I swallow what feels like razor blades. How long have I been out? I clear my throat to speak, getting the attention of my driver. His head whips around and I muffle a scream.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead. Have a good nap?” His wicked laugh crawls over my skin, making me curl into myself.

  Facing forward, he tilts the rearview mirror, his eyes on me. They glow in the light of the dashboard. He looks demonic.

  “Where—” I clear my throat. “Where are you taking me?”

  His reflection glares at me. “We’re going on a little road trip.”

  “What happened? Where’s Jonah?”

  “I have an idea. Why don’t you go back to sleep or pretend to be asleep so I don’t have to hear your voice? Or better yet, you shut your fuckin’ mouth, or I’ll climb back there and shove something in it.”

  Tears burn my eyes and my throat clogs with emotion. I nod and vow to keep quiet for the rest of the trip.

  An orange glow draws my attention. I peer through the gap in the front seats. A clock. The numbers ground me—give me something to hold on to. Just like before the fight, I watch the minutes tick away, along with my future. As the minutes stretch by, I make myself sick. Every imaginable horror comes to mind. Jonah doesn’t know where I am. I’m alone with someone who hates me enough that killing me would be kind.

  As many times as Jonah has swooped in like an angelic warrior to rescue me, my predicament is impossible. No one will help me now. If I’m going to get out of this, I’m going to have to do it myself.

  The car turns. I tilt my head to look out the window from my back seat bed. My view is a wall of pine trees. We’re in the mountains, and from the sound of the creaking suspension and gravel assaulting the wheel wells, on a dirt road. After another twenty minutes, the car slows to a stop.

  Vince exits the car, giving me seconds of relief before the back door swings open and he grabs me by my bound ankles. He throws me over his shoulder like a dead animal. It’s completely black outside. Darkness like I’ve never seen having lived in the city my whole life. There’s a source of light ahead that penetrates the night. Vince heads toward it. He walks up a few wooden steps before we go through a door and into the living room of a cabin.

  He turns left and I’m airborne. My wrists bound, I’m unable to break my fall and my head slams into something solid. Stabbing pain pierces my skull and I swallow an agony-riddled cry. Warm liquid oozes down my face, pooling in my ear. My vision swirls.

  Vince’s footsteps against the wood floor disappear behind me.

  I squint against my throbbing head. I’m on a couch with wooden armrests. The smell of an old fire and wet wood permeate the air. I worm my body around and face the direction we came in. Plain wood flooring and log walls are all I see. This place isn’t set up for a long-term guest. More like a place for a weekend hunter. And here I am tied up like prized kill.

  A door slams shut, making me jump. My muscles coil tight, every sound amplified. Heavy footfalls sound down the hallway getting louder. Closer.

  Please, God. Help me.

  Dominick and Vince appear from the mouth of the hallway. Their fine suits and coiffed hair are a morbid contrast to the natural wood of the cabin.

  “Raven, darling, I’m sorry about your head. Vince is great muscle, but tends to be a bit brutal.”

  Vince smiles and licks his lips.

  “As I’m sure you’ve figured out, your boyfriend won, or lost as it was, so now you belong to me.” He kneels and places his lips just inches from
my ear. “Between you and me, win or lose, I had no intention of releasing you.”

  My eyes burn. I stare at the man before me whose eyes are identical to mine. The man whose blood runs through my veins, and I feel nothing but pure, concentrated hate.

  He reaches into his pocket, and with a flick of his wrist, he’s holding a knife. I kick and pull at my restraints. No!

  “Calm down.” He sounds bored and not at all impressed by my fight. He points the knife, gently pressing the tip into the soft skin beneath my ear. “You be a good girl now or I will cut you. Do you understand?”

  I nod frantically, forcing the tip of the knife farther into my skin. A whimper leaks from my lips. He watches as a trickle of blood makes a trail down my neck.

  “So beautiful.” He swipes at the blood with his fingertip and puts it in his mouth. “You are going to make your Daddy a very rich man.”

  Every inch of my body shakes in violent bursts. He slides down the couch to my feet and cuts my binds. Then follows with my wrists.

  I flex and roll my aching joints. Sitting up, my head swims. I steady myself, blinking away my nausea. Something tickles my cheek. I swipe at it and see blood on my hand. I’m going to be sick.

  “Dominick, may I use the bathroom?” My voice quakes with fear.

  He tilts his head and studies my face. I focus on his neck to avoid him reading the intentions in my eyes. He must be satisfied with what he sees and nods.

  I push up, ignoring my sore wrists and throbbing head, and search for a bathroom. The first door in the hallway is open. I rush in, shut the door behind me, and try to find the lock. Dammit! No lock.

  Panic and fear collect in my stomach, sending me to the toilet on my knees. I gag and cough, arching my back with every painful heave. Bile-flavored spit coats my dry mouth, making me retch harder. The smell of my own blood flips my stomach again. A violent heave rocks my body until my stomach surrenders. I try to catch a breath, allowing the tears to fall freely. I sob with my head resting on the toilet seat. My hand does a quick search of my pockets for my phone. I knew it wouldn’t be there, but desperation has me grasping anyway. I’m stuck. Out of options.

  What’s going to happen to me?

  Thirty-one

  Jonah

  “Open the door!”

  Nothing. I knock harder.

  “Dude, calm down. You’re gonna scare the piss out of her.” Blake’s leaning against the brick wall outside Milena’s house while I bang the fucking door down.

  I pound wood again. “Milena. Open up!”

  Blake’s expression sours with disapproval. “Yeah, Milena. Open up for the enormous scary guy beating the shit out of your door.” He tacks an eye roll onto his sarcasm.

  Shit. He’s right, but we’re running out of time. Dominick has my girl, and she could be getting farther away with every minute that passes. They could be in fucking Mexico by now.

  After leaving the arena, we went straight to Raven’s place. We let ourselves in with the spare key I kept after having her door replaced. It didn’t take long for us to find what we were looking for. Who knew an old bank statement would mean more than the Title belt. Finding that felt like winning the lottery and being the first man on the moon all wrapped up into one. The address on that statement led us here.

  Milena. She’s our only hope. If this doesn’t work, I don’t know what else to do but go to the police. And if Dominick finds out, which he will with all the moles he’s got planted in the department, Raven’s as good as dead.

  Resolve thickens my blood and brings my fist back to the door. I hold it back and breathe. Calm. Just one minute of her time is all I need. I flex my fist and knock lightly.

  Nothing.

  I swear to shit if she doesn’t open this motherfucking door, I will bust the fucker down and drag her ass out. Ah, hell. So much for calm.

  “Milena, it’s Jonah. I’m. . . ” I squint against the vicious buzz pounding in my head. “He’s taken her. Do you know where he would have gone with her?” My forehead rests against the door. “I need to find her tonight. Just, please, open the door.” Seconds of silence feel like hours. What am I going to do?

  A click of a lock jolts me back. The door cracks open. Milena’s eyes are cautious as she peers out just beneath the protective chain. My breath catches in my throat. She looks so much like Raven. I rub my chest to squelch the burn.

  “He took her?” Her voice is soft and carries the hint of a Latin accent.

  “Yes. From the arena.”

  She stares through me with unfocused eyes.

  “I need to know where he might have taken her. Anywhere you think he might be. Addresses would be great, but a general vicinity is fine too.”

  She blinks and meets my eyes. “Come in.”

  The door closes enough to unhook the chain and opens slowly. I walk in with Blake at my heels. Milena’s eyes widen when she sees I’m not alone.

  Before I can introduce Blake, he’s in her space.

  “I’m Blake.” He extends his hand to her. She places her small hand in his, but locks eyes on me. I nod.

  Her shoulders drop along with her eyes. “Milena.” Her apprehension isn’t unexpected. I imagine working for a man like Dominick hasn’t instilled much trust in men.

  “We’re going to need your help in getting our girl back. You up for that?” Blake must’ve come to the same conclusion, his voice the equivalent of kid gloves.

  “Mm-hm.” She nods and Blake releases her hand.

  As crude as he can be, the guy has a side that evokes trust, especially in women.

  “Please, sit down.” She motions to a couch in the living room. We head in, but I’m too antsy to sit.

  I survey my surroundings, surprised by the lack of hominess. The house I grew up in has family photos all over the place, along with knickknacks picked up from family vacations and trophies won by my sister or me. This place feels more like the waiting room of a doctor’s office than a home. Cheap, decorative art hangs on the walls, matching throw pillows arranged on a couch that looks like it’s never been sat on. And Raven grew up here? My chest cramps.

  “Milena, I know you don’t know me.”

  She backs into the couch and sits, her hands obsessively picking at the hem of her sweater.

  “But, I’m in love with your daughter. I need to get to her. I can’t call the police—”

  “No.” Her eyes focus on me, her one word confirming that the police won’t do shit.

  “Right. You’re the only one who can help me. Please.”

  She stares across the room. I turn to Blake. He points to his watch. We’re running out of time. Milena has retreated into herself, looking like the photo Raven took of her the day she left home.

  I squat to her eye level. This woman has caused the girl I love more pain than I can stomach. I see-saw between wanting to scream at her and wanting to worship at her feet. She holds the key to my future.

  “Look, I know you and Raven have . . . issues. And I don’t know what you’ve been through or why you did the things you did. But I know your daughter. She doesn’t want this life. If you feel anything for her, if you care for her at all, then please help me.”

  Her gaze swings to mine. “There is a place. In the mountains. He takes some of the girls there after . . .” She looks to her lap. “Girls in my profession sometimes get pregnant. He takes them there to have the procedure done and for recovery.”

  My stomach lurches. That sick-ass motherfucker! These girls, scared out of their minds, he takes to a non-medical facility so some hack doctor can scrape out their insides. I rub my head to numb the buzz that roars between my ears.

  “It’s where she was born.” Her voice is just a hair above a whisper. But the words ring like they came from a bullhorn. “The cabin. He’ll take her there.” Her eyes bore into mine with an intensity that I can’t argue.

  “Where is it? Do you have an address? Name of a town?” The questions roll from my head in rapid fire.

  She j
umps to her feet and heads to the kitchen. Seconds later, she returns with a piece of paper and a pen. Frantically, she starts sketching.

  “It’s off the Interstate towards the ski resort. You’ll pass through a small town with a diner on the side of the road. The sign looks like a wagon wheel. After that, maybe fifteen minutes or so, there will be a turn off on the right-hand side. Take that until you hit a fork in the road,” she explains while drawing it out. “Right at the fork and follow that.” She hands me the paper. “It’s the only thing out there. You can’t miss it.”

  I bolt through the living room to the front door. Blake meets me there, door open and waiting.

  “Wait!”

  I stop and turn to Milena, her eyes brimming with tears.

  “Bring her home safely, and,” she looks at the floor and my heart breaks as the gesture reminds me of Raven, “tell her I love her.”

  “When I bring her back, you tell her yourself.”

  ~*~

  Raven

  The dark is contagious. It spreads from the simple absence of light to something bigger. Something that seeps in through your eyes and multiplies until it takes you over. Starting with your mind, it works its way through until it extinguishes the last spark of hope you have hidden deep in your heart.

  Everything is dark. The moonlight spilling through the window is only bright enough to illuminate a square on the dirty floor. The smell of wood rot matches the creeping dread that fights to become my only companion. But I won’t lose hope. Not yet. Sooner or later, their guard will drop. I’ll run and live in the woods like that boy who was raised by wolves. If it means having my life back, Jonah back, I could do that.

  I’ve watched the moon square move across the floor. Dark stains pepper its surface. Is that blood? What happens in this room? I race to the window and push up on the lever to open it. It doesn’t budge. Again. Fear floods my body. Air rushes in and out of my lungs in erratic bursts. A sob crawls into my throat. I hold it back. I won’t let him win. I push it down, numbing myself from the inside out. Detach. Separate my mind from my body. That’s the only way to survive.

  I lie back on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room. Calm, deep breathing, eyes closed. I imagine the bed beneath me is Jonah’s. He’s next to me, his arm thrown over my stomach. My heart rate slows. His breath kisses my cheek as he whispers how much he loves me. My muscles relax. He twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. The corner of my mouth lifts.