She pushes herself up on the bed. I look to the door and see no sign of Owen.
“What happened?” My voice is sharp with worry. I fight the roaring in my head and focus on keeping my cool. “What did he do to you?”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and something crunches under my feet. It’s a broken picture frame. In the mess of glass and shattered wood is the picture of Raven’s mom.
What the hell is going on?
I pull Raven into my lap, and she curls into my body like she was made to be there.
Then, she starts to talk.
Fourteen
Raven
My head throbs as I blink open my swollen eyes. The room is dark except for the dim light that shines through the window. It’s evening. I roll from my side onto my back and know instantly that I’m in Jonah’s bed. My hand reaches for him, but the cool sheets tell me he’s not there. He brought me here after I’d cried myself dry in his arms, snuggled in tight to the safety and warmth of his touch, holding me as if I’d float away if he didn’t ground me.
Thoughts of Dominick invade my mind, like an army hell bent on eradicating my hope. Shame and embarrassment strangle any pride I have left. I bury my face in the pillow, pressing in deep, robbing myself of oxygen and welcoming the ache in my lungs. The life I’d built for myself, friends, Jonah, all of it was erased in less than an hour. I’m chained to the ugliness, caged in a nightmare with no chance of escape.
I become a prostitute, or everyone I love dies.
I turn my head and gasp for air, sucking the life-giving oxygen into my lungs. Rubbing my eyes, I try to erase the memories of the pain I saw in Jonah’s face. He told me we’d figure it out, that, together, we’d come up with something. Impossible.
Reaching over, I click on the lamp. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table along with two Tylenol. I grab the pills and toss them to the back of my dry mouth. I swallow against the sting in my aching throat as it draws my attention away from the pain in my heart. The glass drained, I push my legs over the side of the bed, giving my body a second to acclimate to being upright. I’m no longer wearing my jeans and shirt, but I’m in one of Jonah’s t-shirts. I pull the fabric to my nose and breathe in deep, his scent a reprieve to my anguish.
Tying my hair in a low knot, I head out to find Jonah. I freeze in the hallway at the sound of two male voices. Jonah’s voice is as recognizable as my own, but who is the other? I tiptoe closer and make the voice out to be Owen. Veiled in the shadows, I listen in.
“I have too much to lose. I can’t afford to lose everything.”
“Dude, I get that, I do. But just give it some time. You might find a way to figure something out.”
“What other choice do I have? I have to end this.”
“You’re going to hurt her.”
Silence, then, “I know.”
“I don’t like it, Jonah. She’s been through so much already. She’s not going to handle this well. You have to know that.” Silence. “All right, at least do it sooner than later. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, just get it over with.”
“Yeah, I will.”
My heart plummets into an icy black hole. It’s impossible to breathe past the constricting burn in my chest. I bend at the waist, hands on my knees, trying not to pass out. My head pounds with the beat of my racing heart. I pray that the numbing will come and ease the ache, but my body takes no prisoners as my stomach coils in agony. I lean my back against the wall, pressing my fingers to my sternum, as if I could physically push back the pain. The slight sting is on my cheeks from the tears I didn’t know I’d cried. Hearing about the pain of a broken heart doesn’t do justice to feeling the crippling devastation. This is a broken heart.
Of course, he’s leaving me. Why wouldn’t he? Everything he’s worked for his entire life is waiting for him. His career is taking off, the title fight only weeks away. That’s his priority.
The voice in my head reminds me of what I really am. I’m the daughter of a pimp and a hooker bred for a lifestyle of meaningless sex and money. It all makes sense now. My mother never saw me as her child . . . as a child at all. I’m nothing more than a prized animal—a product they can profit from. Who was I to think I could have a future with Jonah? My future is in that world, not his.
“Hey, how long have you been standing here?”
Long enough for you to destroy me. “Oh, um, I don’t know. Not long.” My voice sounds like it’s been trampled by a herd of buffalo.
He cups my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His warm eyes and empathetic smile threaten to burst the floodgates, so I look past him.
“Baby, you’re crying.” He dries my tears with his thumbs.
I shrug and force my mouth into a smile.