Fighting for Flight

by J. B. Salsbury

  Waiting our turn, I fidget with nervous energy and catch my reflection in the window. My strapless, black mini dress hugs every contour of my body. The strappy heels cage my feet up past my ankle, making my legs look impossibly longer. I can’t see my face, but it’s framed by long silken strands of dark hair, flat ironed to perfection. Eve did my make-up heavier that I usually wear, the smoky dark shadow bringing out the strange color of my eyes.

  I’m Ravenstein, put together and brought to life for a night of shenanigans.

  “Stop freaking out. You look gorgeous,” Eve says close to my ear.

  “Ladies. You on the list?” says a large man with a clipboard.

  Eve exchanges words and a handshake with the purpose of palming him a fifty dollar bill. The man smiles and looks us both up and down before stepping aside. We’re in.

  The strobe lights and black lights make it hard to see, and the booming bass makes it impossible to talk. Guiding me through the crowd, Eve leads me to an outside patio bar. The music is muted out here so we don’t have to yell. We belly-up and order two Cosmopolitans.

  “So, how are you and Jonah?” Eve wags her eyebrows.

  “Better now.” I can’t control the heat that rises to my cheeks.

  Eve narrows her eyes and swivels toward me on her barstool. “Oh my gosh. You did it.” A slow smile creeps to her face, and she starts clapping and bouncing on her seat. “You fucking did it . . . like literally!”

  I cover my face with my hands and nod my head. This information will surely find Dominick’s ears in the next day. So much for your plan to make money off my virginity, eh?

  “Eeeeee!” Eve jumps from her stool and wraps her arms around my neck. “My girl lost her virginity, everyone!”

  Mortification overtakes me as my eyes dart around the bar. Other than a few smiles, almost everyone ignores us.

  “Eve, please! Be quiet!” I hiss.

  She sits back in her seat and takes a huge swig of her drink. I follow suit.

  “Rave, you gotta give me details, girl. Did it hurt? Was he good? Is he . . . big?” With eyes as wide as gas caps, she waits for my answer.

  “He’s amazing in every possible way.”

  She stomps her foot and slaps her knee. “I knew it! I knew he was big.”

  I roll my eyes and suck down the rest of my drink. Apparently embarrassment makes me thirsty. I order another.

  Details of my night with Jonah begin to flow out at the same pace the liquor flows in. I imagine steam shooting from Dominick’s nose like an angry bull when Vince relays the information. Satisfied with what I’ve given, I decide it’s time to broach the subject.

  “What about Vince? What does he do?”

  “He’s a consultant. I don’t know what he consults on. Like I said, he’s a private guy.”

  More like private eye, I joke to myself and fight the urge to laugh.

  “Does that bother you? That he’s a private eye . . . um, guy?”

  Whoops, almost turned my private joke public. My tongue feels bigger in my mouth as my words start to slur. I wave my hand to the bartender and motion for another round.

  “Yes. It does.” Her face falls and she dabs the corner of her eye with her cocktail napkin. Here we go again. Apparently, I’m not the only one feeling the effects of our drinks.

  I spin my barstool so I’m facing her. “Eve, aren’t you sick of crying over this guy? The only time you don’t cry about him is when he’s got his tongue in your ear.”

  Perfect transition into bad news. I mentally pat myself on the back.

  Her arms fly out to her sides. “Ugh! It’s just I feel so close to him, you know?”

  Okay, this is good. Let her vent and then I’ll go in for the kill. I nod while gulping the last of my drink.

  “I get the feeling that I’m more into him than he is to me. He never talks about himself. I know nothing about him.” She sniffs. “Fucking men!”

  Sick of the mastodon in the room that’s sitting right on my lap, I grab a stack of cocktail napkins and slap them down in front of her. Here it goes.

  “Eve, there’s something I need to tell you. It’s about—”

  “Holy shit, Rave! This is our jam!” Her shoulders bounce to the beat of the music. “Come on, let’s dance!”

  “Wait, I—”

  She drags me to the dance floor and the familiar voice of Dev singing “Bass Down Low” makes even me squeal.

  Darn alcohol has me acting like a stupid girl.

  I’ve only been drunk a few times, and the familiar floaty feeling taking over my limbs tells me I’m there. I close my eyes, absorbing the beat of the music, and move with the rhythm. The bass pulsates around me, every tiny hair on my arm responding to the call of the music. I slide my hands from my hips, up the sides of my body and into my hair. I imagine being here with Jonah, his hands all over me. Grinding against each other as the music throbs around us. Kissing in the middle of a crowded dance floor, and tasting the sweat that beads off each other’s skin. So lost in each other that we’re oblivious to everyone around, I skate my fingertips down my neck, imagining that they’re his. Remembering his touch on a cellular level, goose bumps race across my flesh. Flashes of him above me, memories from last night, have me gripping my hair.

  There’s no place I’d rather be than in Jonah’s arms, in his bed. It’s time to go.

  I open my eyes to see Eve is few feet away. She has become the meat in a dance-floor sandwich. I move to pull her away when hands grip my hips and heat hits my back. I react on instinct, pushing away from the grip and turning around to face the jerk.

  A man in a pink golf shirt stands before me. His lips move, but I can’t hear what he’s saying over the music. Realizing that, he motions for me to come to him. I shake my head and turn to get Eve.

  My heart is racing and I stumble, the alcohol making it difficult to control my body. I can’t believe I drank so much that I lost myself in my surroundings allowing a strange man to press his crotch to my backside. I’m anxious by the time I pull Eve from between the two guys she’s dancing with.

  “Whad’da fuck, Rave! I was ’aving fun.” Eve speaks to my shoulder with a heavy slur.

  I guide her to the bar, and order us two waters. Buzzed and freaked out by the forward guy on the dance floor, I trash my plan to talk to Eve about Vince and grab my phone to call Jonah for a ride.

  “Can I get another Cosmoplothian, pleeese?” Eve’s attempt at cunning falls flat.

  “I think we should call it a night.”

  “No!” Her enthusiasm gets the attention of two guys nearby.

  I give them my best don’t mind her, she’s just drunk smile. Mistaking my smile for an invitation, they walk to us. As they get closer I recognize the guy from the dance floor.

  Crap.

  Tapping Eve on the knee, I alert her to our unwelcome guests.

  They’re good-looking guys. Not hot-tattooed-fighter good-looking, but more like successful-banker-golfer good-looking.

  I try to politely brush them off while Eve gives them death stares, mumbling something about asswads and pricks. It’s bad enough that we’re in the club at all, but getting kicked out for public drunkenness is sure to draw unwanted attention.

  Punching a quick text to Jonah that we’ll be out front in fifteen minutes, I look up to see Eve with her arm slung over banker-golfer number one. She teases her finger at the collar of his perfectly pressed shirt. Guess her anger at men is over.

  “Eve, our ride will be here any minute. What do you say we hit the ladies’ room and make our way to the door?”

  Totally ignoring me, she runs her hand into Number One’s hair and leans in to whisper in his ear. Pink Shirt steps in my space, pressing me back into the bar and blocking my chance for escape.

  I flatten my palm to his chest. “Can you please step back?”

  “You ran away from me earlier. Can’t let that happen again.”

  The smell of his breath makes my stomach clench. My spinning head, c
ombined with fear and a belly full of liquor, has me tasting bile.

  I try to implore Eve for help, but she’s face to face with Number One.

  Pink Shirt hooks a piece of my hair with his finger. “You’re gorgeous.” He motions to his friend with a tilt of his head. “My buddy and I have room at Trump. Looks like your friend and my friend are hitting it off.”

  He’s right. Number One has his face buried in Eve’s neck.

  He steps closer so that I’m arched back over the bar, my head turned away. He leans to my ear. “What do you say you and me—”

  “What the fuck is going on here?” The voice comes from down the bar, but it’s unmistakably male and mad.

  Pink Shirt steps back, freeing me, while Number One is yanked violently backwards. Eve shrieks and falls back onto her barstool.

  Pink Shirt looks like he’s about to run, but sways as if he doesn’t know if he should attempt to help his friend.

  Number One’s down. A man wearing all black holds him by the neck of his shirt and shouts in his face. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but from the look on the poor guy’s face, it’s terrifying.

  The man in black shoves Number One hard to the ground and turns to Eve. Only then do I catch the face of our knight in shining armor.

  My heart races and I break out in a sweat. Stalking towards us with a murderous look on his face, he gets right into Eve’s space. Nose to nose, he stares her down as she looks up at him doe-eyed.

  “You trading me for a pussy-ass, country-club boy, Eve?” Vince’s body trembles with rage.

  Terror works behind Eve’s eyes as she shakes her head.

  “Vince, she didn’t do anything wrong. Those guys wouldn’t leave and—”

  He rakes his eyes over me, and my mouth slams shut.

  “Mind your own fucking business!” All pleasantries from our first two meetings are gone.

  “Vince, please, look at her. You’re scaring her,” I whisper, trying to control my voice. She’s not the only one who’s scared.

  “Look, you little slut.”

  I flinch as his insult cuts deep.

  “I told you this is none of your business. You wanna make it your business, I can do that. You two are coming with me, and I’ll be happy to make it your business . . . all night long.”

  “You wouldn’t . . . I mean . . . Dominick . . .” The vicious smile that breaks his angry expression tells me everything. Dominick doesn’t care about me. As long as I’m able to solicit myself for him, he could give a rip about what Vince does to me.

  Tears burn my eyes as the reality sinks in. I’m breathing rapidly. The hurried beat of my heart pounds in my ears. I should run, but I can’t leave Eve.

  He eyeballs me from my boobs to my shoes and licks his lower lip. He wraps his arm around Eve’s waist, pulling her from her seat. Her eyes are unfocused as he tugs her close to his side. His free arm shoots to me. The impact of his grip throws my body forward. He drags us through the club. I stumble to keep upright. The crowd of gyrating bodies part as he storms through the dance floor to the club’s exit.

  With a firm kick, the double doors fly open, and we’re in the secluded alley behind the building. I take a sobering breath of fresh air to clear my head. I need to get us free so we can run. But how? Looking around frantically, I search for a way out, knowing I have only seconds before we’re locked in his car.

  My mind surges with questions. What would Guy tell me to do? What would Jonah tell me to do? And with that comes my answer, loud and clear.

  Fight.

  Adrenaline floods my veins. Energy strengthens my muscles as I struggle in his grip. I pull against his hold, digging my heels into the pavement. His eyes shoot towards mine and narrow. His grip gets tighter and Eve whimpers.

  I twist my arm as hard as I can, and his hold begins to slip. Twisting and pulling, a sharp pain shoots through my shoulder. Desperate to free myself, I push through the ache. Vince stops walking and I yank down. My arm slips from his hand. He grabs hold with his other hand. He let Eve go.

  “Eve, run! Run!”

  Blinking wildly as if she woke up from a trance, she takes off. Vince has my back, his arm locked around my waist, hand gripped on my throat. Screaming is out of the question as his crushing embrace robs me of breath. I struggle to get free and my vision starts to recede. The sound of heavy footfalls pounding the pavement behind us has me jerking in his hold.

  My vision goes black as two words scream in my head.

  Help me!

  Twenty-one

  Raven

  One minute I’m choking, desperate for air, and the next I’m on all fours sucking precious oxygen into my lungs. Hearing a scuffle, I turn to see what freed me.

  Shock freezes my body. Vince is on his back and Jonah is straddling him. His fists are pounding Vince’s face. His colorful arms are blurry with the speed of each blow. The sickening thud of each blow is a drastic contrast to the beauty and fluidity of his movements. Jonah’s arms swing with deadly accuracy. But Vince is out, his body flopping from side to side with the power of each punch.

  “Jonah, stop. You’ll kill him.” My burning throat makes my voice a little more than a whisper, not enough to penetrate Jonah’s rage.

  I crawl to him with trepidation and place myself by Vince’s bloody face.

  “Jonah, stop. I’m okay. I’m right here. You have to stop now.” My voice is gentle, and it’s then that his arms slow their gory punishment.

  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 che
eks. 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…”