Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

“Fuck you!” I’m scared out of my mind and a little bit crazy, because as the fierce curse flies from my mouth, I can’t help but think Blake would be proud.

“Hmm, you’re feisty. You must get that from me. Your mother never argued, never fought, and never said a word really.” He thoughtfully rubs his chin. “Let me put it to you this way. You will do as you’re told, or I will slowly pick off every single person you love.”

No, no, no, no!

“You’re a monster.”

An evil smile curls his lips. “I’ll start with that sweet little friend of yours, Eve.” My hands and feet tingle and then go numb.

“Then, I’ll work my way to Guy and your mother.”

Numbness moves up my arms and legs to my abdomen.

“And last, but not least,” his voice carries a sing-song tone, “I’ll end with that Neanderthal you’ve been living with, Jonah.”

The final blow.

Heart, mind, and soul. Numb.

I’m no longer crying as my body and mind assimilate information. His words spin in my head over and over like a tilt-a-whirl: breed, hooker, everyone I love.

The predicament hits me like a hurricane. In danger of passing out, I grip the arms of my chair. This isn’t happening. I lean forward and put my head between my knees, hoping to gather my bearings.

“This is Las Vegas, darling. You know how easy it would be to make someone disappear? Bury them in a dirt hole out in the desert? Although, I won’t make it quick, I’ll have my fun with them first.”

“Stop, please. Just please . . . stop.” I rock back and forth, my hands fisted in my hair. I hear a low keening sound, and realize it’s coming from my mouth. I pinch my eyes closed tight, praying to wake up from this nightmare.

And here I thought he might want to know me. That maybe he missed the daughter he never knew. How could I be so stupid?

“Why now? Why not when I turned eighteen?” My voice is pleading and desperate for answers.

“In my business, it’s important the girls are of legal drinking age. This helps to avoid unwanted attention from the local authorities. But more importantly, I needed leverage. You’re quite the loner, darling: never had a boyfriend, very few friends. I had Guy and Eve, but they weren’t enough. Once you starting practically living with the Slade boy, it was time.” He straightens his cuffs and twists their links. His gaze swings to mine. “Do you love him?”

I roll my lips into my mouth, refusing to answer him.

“Ah, yes. And it seems you’re still a virgin as well.”

From behind me, Vince muffles his laugh. Mortification and anger mix, igniting my face in a furious blush. I’m appalled that he could speak so freely with his own flesh and blood.

“Don’t look so shocked. Sex is my business. I can tell by your blush you still retain your innocence. That will work well for me and my business.”

Bile burns my throat. I wish I had eaten so I could vomit all over Dominick’s pretentious Oriental rug. I hate him for what he’s proposing and for what he did to my mom. I want to pounce on him and fight like a maniac. Adrenaline fills my body as I contemplate the risks involved with taking him on here in his office.

Is today a good day to die?

He leans forward, resting both elbows on his desk. His eyes bore into mine, making me recoil.

“Raven, if you fight me, I’ll shoot so much heroin in your arm, you won’t know what day it is. I’ll keep you so addicted you’ll be begging for it. You’ll live out your days on a street corner, sucking off frat boys for twenty bucks a pop. You come peacefully and be a good girl, you’ll have a life very similar to that of your mother. I suppose I could make it even better, seeing as you are my daughter.”

“I’m not your daughter!”

He looks down his nose, studying me like a piece of art he’s considering buying. “No, I suppose you’re not. More like the product of a perfectly executed experiment.”

“I would rather die a slow, painful death than work for you.” My hands are wrapped so tightly around the arms of the chair that my palms burn.

“Well,” he sits back, checking out what I assume to be freshly manicured nails, “that, too, can be arranged,” he hisses with contempt.

A defeated whimper bursts from my lips. The horrific sound confirms my lack of options. I don’t have an out.

“So you agree? The day after your twenty-first birthday, I’ll send for you.”

“I thought . . .” My whispered words aren’t meant to be heard.

“You thought what, darling?”

I look up from my lap and stare at the man who’s just ripped my heart out and stomped on it for sport. “I hate you.”

A slow smile stretches across his face. “Very well. I’ve always been a sucker for a challenge.”

I have no memory of how I got back in my car. I don’t remember walking, but I don’t believe I was carried. All I know is I’m sitting in the valet driveway, stone still, staring straight ahead, wondering where to go and what to do.

And just like that, right when my life starts looking beautiful, it disappears like a mirage in the desert.

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