Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

Jonah’s body stills, but his chest swells and deflates with deep breaths. Reaching forward, I place my hand on his forearm. His head jerks, and his eyes connect with mine, wild and distant. He blinks a couple times and I see my Jonah return.

“God, baby, are you okay?” His words falter with the power of each breath.

Jumping off Vince, he pulls me to my feet. His eyes move over my body along with his hands.

“I was out front. I saw Eve run from behind the club. I ran as fast as I could. He had you . . . Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little scared. Where’s Eve?”

“I told her to go to the truck and sit tight.” He looks back at an unconscious Vince. “Who the fuck is that piece of shit?”

I drop my eyes to the ground, wanting to slap myself. I never told Jonah about Vince. “That’s Vince, Eve’s boyfriend,” I take a deep breath, “and Dominick’s right hand.”

His eyes grow narrow and his muscles tense. “That motherfucker!”

An echo of Jonah’s curse rings off the walls of the alley. The H2 I saw at Eve’s the other night is parked there, hidden in a service entrance of the warehouse next to the club. Without a soul around, I’m thankful no one was a witness to what Jonah did to Vince. But I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if Jonah hadn’t shown up when he did.

“We need to get out of here.” I rub my neck and wince as my shoulder protests the movement.

Jonah looks undecided as to whether he should finish the job he started on Vince or get us to the truck. Moaning drifts from the bloodied piece of meat beside us, and that seems to force Jonah into a snap decision. He wraps one arm around my shoulders and the other around my stomach, supporting my weight, and we hurry to the truck.

It’s a silent ride to Eve’s house except for her occasional apologies for Vince’s behavior. I see hurt in her eyes, but not hurt that she just found out her boyfriend is abusive. The pain in her eyes is that of a girl with a broken heart. Will she always be attracted to men who hurt her like her father did? God, I hope not.

We drop her off at her insistence. She wants to be alone, and I don’t blame her. She has a lot to think about. Jonah walks through her house, turning on all the lights and making sure she feels safe before she locks herself inside.

Safe in the cab of the truck, I allow myself to feel the weight of what happened. I turn my head to face out the window, not wanting to give Jonah any more to worry about. A silent sob rips through my body as tears of fear, guilt, and anxiety flow down my cheeks. The driver side door slams shut and a warm hand covers mine. I interlace our fingers, hold on tight, and vow to never let go.

*

Jonah

“That son of a bitch!” Blake’s response to my re-telling of the evening’s events mirrors my own.

I grip my phone tighter before loosening my hold, remembering what happened the last time I took out my anger on my phone. To avoid putting my fist through a wall, I force myself to my bed.

“You told him at Zeus’s Playground to pull his tails on Raven. I was there. I heard you!”

I don’t know if calling Blake was the smartest choice. Talking shit out with Blake usually helps me decompress. Right now, he’s just getting me worked up. I sit back and stare at the ceiling, hoping I can calm my ass down before Raven gets out of the shower. The poor girl has had a round trip ticket to hell and back. The last thing she needs is her raging boyfriend climbing the fucking walls like a caged animal.

“I almost killed him. I swear if I hadn’t heard Raven’s voice begging me to stop, I would have. Seeing that motherfucker with his arms wrapped around her . . .” My sentence trails off as my jaw clenches so tight I’m spitting words through my teeth.

“Sounds like it’s time for another meeting with dear ol’ dad,” Blake says, his voice holding a hint of excitement.

“Yeah, I have to talk to my girl first, get the story on this Vince guy.” My head falls to the backboard and I rub my eyes with my free hand. “You should see her arm. All dressed up, lookin’ hot as hell, with a fucking bruise in the shape of a man’s hand on her arm.” The calm that had been slowly moving through my body dissolves into anger. “He had her fucking neck!”

“At least you taught that fucker a lesson. Don’t think he’ll be messin’ with Raven again after you flipped the switch on his ass."

He’s got a point. I had to trash one of my favorite shirts because it was splattered with his blood.

“Look, the fight’s this week. You and Raven lie low until then. You don’t need any more publicity than you…”

My attention is drawn from Blake to the sound of the shower being turned off.

“What the fuck is Eve thinking?” His angry question jerks me back to the conversation.

“Don’t know, don’t fucking care. This douchebag’s been on Raven’s ass from the get-go. I’m putting this shit to an end.”

JB Salsbury's books