Fighting for Flight (Fighting, #1)

Home.

Jonah is my home now. He’s the only one who ever cared enough to fight for me. He’s my family. All that matters now is us.

Jonah turns me in his arms. I bury my face in his chest, and let the emotions overtake me. His soothing words are nothing but background noise to my uncontrollable sobs.

He walks us from the restaurant and back to our waiting limo. The tears begin to dry as I’m placed into the privacy of the car. I’m a mess of nerves, anger, and hurt as verbal vomit flows from my lips like a sorority girl on induction night. Sobs break with roaring words of devastation as twenty-one years of pain finally find release.

Jonah’s eyes are wide, watching me kick and scream, throwing out every curse word that comes to mind. I’m not fully aware of what I’m saying, but Jonah flinches as the once foreign words tumble from my lips with ease.

Seconds turn into minutes before my heart rate slows and my muscles relax. Exhaustion sets in. Jonah slides to my side, wrapping me in his arms.

“You finished?” His question is tender and laced with meaning.

Finished crying? Finished with my mom? Finished fighting my future?

Nodding my head into his neck, he holds me tighter.

“I should’ve gone with you. I never should’ve let you leave after that shit with Camille.” He sounds angry with himself, but none of what happened tonight is his fault.

A new wave of anger flickers at the mention of her name, but there’s no fuel left to ignite it. I sink deeper into his embrace.

“Taylor wanted me to be seen in public with her to promote the Female MMA League. I told him I wouldn’t do it, but I guess she didn’t like taking no for an answer.” His lips press against the top of my head. “Don’t think she’ll be hearing no from Blake.”

Camille up against Blake. She doesn’t stand a chance.

“I understand. It just caught me off guard. Del Toro, Camille, my mom . . .”

“Crazy night.”

I nod.

“Feel good? Telling her off like that?”

My face heats, and I’m thankful it’s dark so he can’t see it; although, he can probably feel it through his shirt.

“How much did you hear?”

“Everything. You were yelling pretty loud. I’m proud of you, baby.” His warm hand caresses my arm, reinforcing his words.

“Proud? I acted like an idiot in there. Made a fool out of myself, out of you.”

“You stood up for yourself. Let your mom know what you’ve been keeping inside for way too long. What you did was really brave.”

Once again, he gives, unknowingly filling my emotional cup to the brim. And then some.

“Please tell me no one from your team heard. Your boss? Your publicist? Camille!” My voice grows louder as hysteria returns.

“Shhh, they had no clue. I went to find you and saw you leaning over your mom like a bear about to attack. I told the hostess to give them the message that you were sick and I had to get you home. Did me a favor. I hate those stuffy dinners, everyone blowing sunshine up each other’s asses.”

The limo slows to a stop. I peer out the window to see we’re in Jonah’s driveway. Charlie, the limo driver, opens the door and Jonah gets out. I hear him mumbling something about not talking to the media followed by Charlie’s emphatic agreement. Jonah reaches in to help me out of the car.

“Miss Raven, it’s been a pleasure.” Charlie’s face looks concerned.

I wipe my eyes and smile. “Thank you, Charlie. It was nice meeting you.”

Jonah tosses him a thick fold of bills and a chin lift and guides me to the front door. I beeline it to Jonah’s room to take off my dress and wash my face.

Stepping into the bathroom, I flip on the light and recoil at my reflection. Walking closer to the mirror, I tilt my head and squint.

Holy heck.

Black eye makeup marks channel down my face like a road map of mayhem. Blotchy red marks on my cheeks and forehead highlight my bloodshot eyes. I look like a demented prom queen, minus all the blood. And Jonah held me like this, as I screamed every cuss word I could think of.

My hands fly to my mouth. He must think I’m a lunatic.

Words thrown from my hissy fit come rushing back. The memory of Jonah’s hazel eyes, wide and set on me while . . . While I made a total fool out of myself.

Hysteria swells in my chest. I roll my lips into my mouth and force back the maniacal laughter. A fluttering bubbles up from my chest as I recall my mom’s face when I stepped to her table. Laughter explodes, ricocheting off the tiled walls. Mark’s face when he saw Jonah has me doubled over. The sorry sack looked like he soiled his briefs.

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