Jonah
“Aw fuck, not again!” Blake throws his arms into the air, and stomps to the bench.
Two o’clock. No missed calls. Shit.
Something’s not right.
I’ve checked my phone every thirty minutes for the last three hours, and still no word from Raven. I agreed to let her go meet with Dominick alone this morning, even when everything in me was screaming it was a big mistake.
“I’m done for the day,” I call out to whoever’s listening, not bothering to look up from checking for text messages.
“Good. You haven’t really been here anyway. You got that fuckin’ phone stuck up your ass when we’re supposed to be training.”
Usually I would jump all over Blake and his attitude. Not now.
I lean against the octagon chain link and try her cell. Straight to voicemail. My team files out and toward the locker room, each one grumbling.
Owen lingers, his eyes on me. “Yo, Jonah. You all right, man?”
“Huh?” I look up from my phone into the concerned eyes of Owen then back and hit send. “Oh, yeah. Fine.”
“What’s going on? You’re preoccupied. Everything okay with Raven?”
Just hearing her name makes me break out in a panic-induced sweat.
“Um . . . I don’t know. She met with her dad today, and they don’t really get along. I haven’t heard from her. I’m worried.”
“Oh, that’s it? I’m sure she’s fine, probably just got to talking and reminiscing about old times. I mean how bad can he be that—”
“It’s Dominick Morretti.”
Owen’s easy demeanor disappears as his dark skin drains of color. We lock eyes. Yeah, now he gets it. Everyone knows Dominick Morretti would walk over the dead bodies of his own children to get to a dollar.
“Let’s go.” Owen’s storms from the octagon.
“Wait! Where are we going?”
He doesn’t slow his pace. “We’re gonna find her. I say we check her place first.”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
***
We pull up to Guy’s Garage and I see Raven’s car in the lot. Thank you, God. I pop my head into the garage and ask Guy if he’s seen her. He tells me she showed up a few hours ago but went straight to her place saying she wasn’t feeling well.
My feet move like they’re on fire to the alley. I jump up the stairs, taking three at a time. My fist pounds on the door as adrenaline courses through my veins. I need to see that my girl is okay.
“Raven, baby, you there? It’s me. Open up.”
Nothing.
I knock again.
“Open up, Raven!”
Nothing.
Panic surges and the buzz at the base of my neck shoots to my brain, clouding rational thinking.
“Raven! Open the fucking door!”
I’m about to flip the switch and rip this piece of shit door down with my bare hands, when a firm hand on my shoulder directs me to step aside. Owen is there and he takes my place.
“Princess, it’s Owen. You don’t open up this door, I’m gonna kick it down. We need to get to you.”
Nothing.
Shit! I’m in full freak-out mode. I know Owen feels it rolling off me in waves by the way his eyes dart from my fisted hands to my clenched jaw. I roll my head around on my neck, preparing to bust open the door. Owen takes one step back.
Boom!
Splintering wood flies all around us, the result of Owen’s front kick. He steps in and pushes aside the flimsy door that hangs lopsided from its hinges. I push past him and into the studio.
I stop short upon entering and hold my breath. In the middle of her bed, curled up in the fetal position, is Raven. I’d think she was sleeping if not for her soft guttural moans.
Seeing her so broken sobers the raging beast in my head. I go to her and climb in behind her, my front to her back. Wrapping my arms around her tiny body, I bury my face in her hair.
“Baby. Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
Her body goes solid for a second or two before it’s wracking with sobs. Her cries of anguish make me hold tighter as if I can somehow take her pain away by the sheer strength in my arms.
“Raven? Shh, it’s going to be okay. I’m here. You’re safe. I love you, baby. Come back to me.”
My eyes start to burn. The pain in her cries is tangible, making the air thick and hard to breathe.
“What happened? Talk to me.”
I kiss her tenderly and encourage her to turn and face me. She does, but only to bury herself in my chest and cry harder. The sight of her tear-streaked face and red-rimmed eyes make me downright homicidal. From the looks of it, she’s been crying for a while.
I’m going to kill that motherfucker!
I don’t know how long I lay there with Raven in my arms. Her breathing evens out, and she takes a long shaky breath.
“It’s over.” Her voice is quiet and devoid of emotion. “My life, no matter what happens, is over.”
“What do you mean?” I smooth my hand through her hair. “Your life isn’t over.”