Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

“Fork in the road.” Blake points ahead.

I don’t have to look at the map to know which way to turn. Milena’s handwritten instructions are branded in my mind.

“Pull off. Park in the trees.” He drops the directions on the dash and grabs the handle for a quick exit.

“Pop the box and grab my Eagle.” I toss him the key to my glove box.

Within seconds the cold metal of my fifty-caliber Desert Eagle warms my hand.

I check the clip. Fully loaded. We hop from the truck and hustle back to the dirt road. I shove the gun into my waistband at my back.

We jog down the tree line, making sure to keep to the shadows. The cool mountain air invigorates me. It’s close to two in the morning. The title fight was only a few hours ago. It feels like ages. I should be exhausted, but I’ve never felt more alert.

We cross to the other side of the road where a small light shines like a beacon through the trees.

“That’s got to be it.” I don’t wait for Blake’s response, and take off toward the light.

The rickety A-frame cabin stands alone in the mass of pine trees, a one-lane dirt driveway leading to it. It’s small, probably two bedrooms at most. This shit shack looks like it’s made of scrap wood and spit. If I weren’t convinced Raven was inside, I’d drive my truck full speed through the front fucking door.

We step closer, cautiously keeping to the dark in the trees. She has to be here. Some deep part of me whispers she may not be, but I choose to ignore it. This is my only chance of getting her back.

Something catches my eye from the side of the shack. I creep closer. Bingo.

“They’re definitely here.” I motion to the hundred-thousand-dollar Benz parked in the trees next to a black Lexus sedan.

“What do you want to do? Just knock on the door and start busting caps in his pompous ass?” Blake’s idea would usually make me smile, but there isn’t a hint of humor in his voice. He’s dead fucking serious.

“Let’s check out the windows first, try to get an idea of what we’re dealing with. If I can’t get a handle on what’s going on in there, I’ll kick the motherfucking door down.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Blake moves toward the cabin.

I grab his shoulder, needing to say something before we do this. “Whatever happens in there, you get her out. Understand?”

His eyebrows drop low. “If shit gets ugly, I’m not leaving you—”

“Don’t worry about me. Just get her out and far away.”

Blake puts his hands on his hips and drops his head, a string of curses flowing in a whisper.

“Promise me.”

He meets my eyes, his jaw tight. He shakes his head.

“Blake, please.”

His gaze swings to the treetops for a second then back to me. “All right. I’ll get her out.”

“Good.” I nod. “Now let’s take this fucker out.”

We run low to the ground to the cabin. I motion for Blake to take one side of the shack, whispering for him to check the windows. We’ll split up and meet in the back.

I edge up under the first window and peek inside. An empty living room. No furniture except for a wooden-framed couch. The embers from an old fire smolder in the fireplace. My eyes scour the area. No sign of Raven.

With my back to the wall, I slide to the next window. It’s frosted glass, probably a bathroom. I press my ear to it. Nothing.

In a few more steps, I’m at the back of the cabin. Blake is just rounding the opposite corner. We meet at a single window, our backs against the wall on either side. The low vibration of angry voices rumbles against the glass, but the words are indecipherable. With a nod, we glance inside.

“Holy shit,” Blake whispers through clenched teeth.

It’s dark in the room, but light from the open door is enough to illuminate the scene. Vince and Dominick surround a small bed. They’re hunched over, like vultures picking away at their prey. I don’t have to see who they’re holding down to know who it is.

Adrenaline shoots through my body, injected by a rocket launcher. The roar of my pulse pounds between my ears. An instinct to kill rushes down my spine, juicing up my muscles. My skin vibrates with lethal energy.

Get the fuck off her!

I need to draw them away, redirect their attention. I grab my gun, point it at the assholes. No. I can’t risk hitting Raven.

With a flip of my hand, I use the gun’s butt, and smash the window. Glass shatters, cutting through the silence and causing Dominick and Vince to spin around.

“Well, fuck. I guess it’s on now.” Blake’s words ring from behind me as I race to the front door.

I kick it open. The walls rattle.

Pop.

Light flashes. I stumble back. Pain explodes in my shoulder and down my arm. I blink, pushing against the nausea and agony that threatens to take me down. The fucker shot me.

“Shit. You okay?” Blake’s question is nothing more than static to my main concern.

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