This is it. I’m being kidnapped. But my life is a small price to pay to ensure Guy’s safety. Katherine and Jonah’s safety. I should have known better than to fight destiny. Fight Dominick.
We stop at a single door. Nausea claws at my stomach. A rowdy group down the hall walks towards us. I wonder if it’s Jonah and the guys headed back to their dressing room. If he saw me with Candy, he’d never let me go. Panic surges in my veins. If he sees me, Guy dies. I drop my gaze, my hair hiding my face.
Two quick knocks and the lock clicks. Candy moves forward and I follow through, head down.
Once in, I turn my focus to the room. The door slams behind me, and I’m plunged into darkness.
I gasp. My hands reach out for something to hold onto.
“Hello, darling.”
I whirl around toward the direction of the door. My body slams against something solid. Arms wrap tightly around me. I struggle against the hold. Deja vu stills my body and stifles my scream. Why is this so familiar? Flashes from the night in the parking lot of Club Six spark my memory.
Oh God, no. Vince.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Vince’s low chuckle vibrates against my back.
“No. Dominick, please don’t do this.” I search desperately around the room for a face to plead with, but the dark is too thick. “I won’t run. Just please, leave Guy alone.”
Vince tightens his hold. Air is pushed from my lungs on a whimper.
“And I’m supposed to take your word for it?” Dominick laughs and brushes his hand against my cheek. “Don’t you worry, Raven. I will take what is rightfully mine. What I created. You can’t run far enough or hide deep enough to escape me.”
I jerk my head aside, away from his touch. Vince shakes me roughly then loosens his grip.
Responding to his words with pure instinct, I suck in air to yell. A soft cloth is pressed to my face. Stinging vapors pull deep into my lungs, my eyes roll back in my head. I kick and jerk. I’m going to die. My muffled screams echo in my ears. Darkness creeps in. Jonah, help me. Then, everything goes black.
*
Jonah
A tornado of applause whips and swirls around my body. Static roars in my ears along with my hammering heartbeat.
Del Toro is down. The ref yells, “Knockout.”
Failure rocks me, weakening my knees. I drop to the mat. Only a minute and a half left in the round, and I would have had it. I watch in slow motion as my team climbs the chain link. They rush toward me, faces alight with victory.
I search out the one member of my team still standing on the outside. Blake. His glare meets mine. Whatever he sees brings life to his body, spurring him into action. He hops the fence, pushing his way through people. I’m detached, a bystander in my own skin. My conscious mind struggles with reality. It ended so fast. I just . . . snapped. I won the title, but lost the prize.
Desperation brings me back. Voices go from static to clear as I regain my senses. I need to find her. I sit back on my heels. My eyes magnify the faces around me, like binoculars, bringing into focus my surroundings. I search the crowd. A mob of people block my view, jarring me from all angles. They yell, patting my shoulder. My back. My head.
“Find her.” The mumbled words are a weak command to my body.
Blake drops to his knees in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, forcing my attention.
“Do not lose your shit, man. Lock it down, you hear me.” His voice is commanding, his words a touchstone to my sanity.
I hold his eyes and fight against the tide of crippling emotions that pull at my soul.
“There ya go. Hold your shit, man. Stay focused on me.”
I look at him, but don’t see him. Instead visions of my future flicker through my mind. Raven in white. A little girl with aquamarine eyes and my dimples, pigtails and pink ballet shoes. My girl in my bed, every night, forever. Everything I just lost.
Blinking away the burn, I swallow hard. I lurch forward, on all fours, fighting the rising bile. A stabbing pain rocks my midsection, and I spit my mouth guard to the mat.
“Don’t do this now, man. Not here.”
“I lost her.” My voice grates against my throat as I force out the words. I can’t believe it. I couldn’t save her.
“No. You don’t lose. ‘The Assassin’ does not lose.” He grips my shoulders, pulling me to my feet.
Breathing deep, I force a nod. My skin feels tight surrounded by people in my space. I need to get out of here. I can’t think straight.
I need Raven. To touch her and remind myself that she’s real and . . . still here. Her birthday isn’t until tomorrow. We have a few hours to get out of town. Disappear. At least until we can come up with a better plan.
On a visceral quest, I push through the crowd. No faces, no familiarity, just bodies. Obstacles that stand between me and Raven.
At the octagon’s perimeter, I search the arena, scanning the crowd. Where is she?
A microphone is shoved in my face. “‘Assassin,’ how does it feel to be the new UFL Heavyweight Champion?”