Fighting for Flight

by JB Salsbury

  Lux, the high-rise condominium just off the strip, comes into view. I take a right into the circle driveway. A valet scurries to my door. On his heels is a tall, broad man, in a black suit. His formal attire at ten in the morning is unusual for a summer in Las Vegas. Is he a lawyer? He looks more like a hit man.

  I ignore the valet’s proffered hand and step out of my car.

  Suit guy steps to me, a forced-looking smile plastered across his wide face. “Good morning, Miss Morretti.”

  My eyes narrow at him. How does he know me? “Um, good morning.”

  “Mr. Morretti is waiting for you.” He motions for me to follow him into the building.

  Pushing through the rotating door into the lobby, the smell of floor wax and fresh flowers fills my nose. The intricate-carved, dark wood reception desk and marble floor scream money. I smooth my cotton shirt in response.

  We reach the elevator that has only one button with the letters ‘PH’ on it. As we ascend in silence, I take in the man in front of me. He must be a bodyguard. He isn’t as tall as Jonah, but he’s almost as wide. Every one of the light brown hairs on his head is stuck in place by a decent amount of hair product. The diamond earring in his left earlobe is far too big for a man’s ear.

  The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.

  “After you.” He says it in a way that would be polite if his tone wasn’t so condescending. Without reason, I’d say this guy doesn’t like me. Now I’m really nervous.

  “Thanks.”

  Stepping through the elevator doors, I find myself in another lobby. This one is smaller, but no less extravagant. At the opposite end is an enormous double door that probably cost more than my car. As I walk towards it, I notice the etched glass doors depict a holy war with angels and demons swirling in a vicious battle. The visual puts a looming dread in the air.

  Bodyguard guy knocks twice on the thick glass, making me jump. Calm down, Raven. I’m freaking myself out. The door opens, and a petite blond girl wearing a skintight tank top dress and no shoes lets us in. I try to greet her, but her gaze is locked on her feet. I’m taken to an office where I’m told to sit and that Mr. Morretti will be with me shortly.

  A large desk looms in the back of the room, only one chair in front of it. Guess that’s for me. I sit and stare out the floor-to-ceiling window behind the desk. I bet the view from here at night is one of the best in the city.

  Minutes pass and my knee bounces. The heel of my foot pounds a fast, rhythmic beat into the floor. It seems like I’ve been waiting an eternity. My nails are chewed to the quick before I hear the door open behind me. The air gets heavy and the room seems smaller. I don’t have to turn around to know that Dominick is walking in behind me.

  I haven’t seen him in five years, and even then, it was only for the minutes it took for him to drop off a package to my mom. I expected him to look older, but he’s exactly the same. His blond hair and familiar aquamarine eyes are set off by his dark tan. A radiant smile lights his face, a charming façade that manipulates without effort.

  “Raven, darling, you look exquisite,” he says like a proper gentleman.

  Warning signals blare in my head, but I brush them off as nerves. “Thank you.”

  He walks around his desk and sits in his chair opposite me. “You met Vince?” He nods toward the man over my shoulder.

  I turn and see bodyguard guy standing in front of the closed doors, blocking any escape. My pulse races.

  I should have listened to Jonah. Unease advances into fear. But why? He may not know me, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my biological father. I’m safe. Then why do I feel like running?

  I need to get to the point so that I can get the heck out of here as soon as possible. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes.” He clears his throat. “I have a job offer for you.”

  “I have a job, but thank you.” I stand to leave.

  “Sit!” he barks, making me feel like a misbehaving dog.

  Oh God, this is bad.

  “I have a job offer for you, Raven. And you can’t say no.” His previous soft tone is now forceful.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Everything I know about Dominick is corrupt. What could he possibly want with me?

  “You know, Raven, when I first started in this business, I was around your age. I was young, rich, and drunk with power.” He rolls a gold pen between his fingers. “I got bored easily. I knew from the moment I saw your mother she was something special. Everything about her screamed sex: the way she moved, the way she spoke. I’d never met anyone like her. It’s as if she were made for the singular purpose of pleasing men. I had to have her.” Depravity shines in his eyes.

  Saliva rushes into my mouth and panic grips my insides.

  “I had to have her, Raven, for two reasons. First, to capitalize on her God-given gifts for profit.” He spears me with a glare. “And second . . . to breed.” The last word he stretches out as a snake would if it could talk.

  Breed? Like a dog? I know then I’m looking into the eyes of the devil himself.

  “So that’s what I did. I used your mother to create another like her. The next generation, if you will, to meet the growing demands of my business.”

  I don’t want to hear anymore. Tears pool in my eyes as I realize what kind of job he’s offering me.

  “You want me to be a hooker for you.” This can’t be happening. He wants to sell my body for sex? My own da—no, I can’t bring myself to think of him as that.

  “Hooker is such an ugly word,” he tsks. “I prefer escort. But, yes, that’s what you were created for. That’s why I made you. It’s time you fulfill your purpose.”

  “No! I won’t do it. You can’t make me do it!”

  Tears trail down my face, and I’m pissed he sees me weak.

  “I can make you do it and I will. I’ll give you a couple weeks, say, until your twenty-first birthday. That should give you enough time to tie up any loose ends. Then you’ll be moved into one of my apartments,” he declares with a wave of his hand like a king on his throne of immorality.

  “Fuck you!” I’m scared out of my mind and a little bit crazy, because as the fierce curse flies from my mouth, I can’t help but think Blake would be proud.

  “Hmm, you’re feisty. You must get that from me. Your mother never argued, never fought, and never said a word really.” He thoughtfully rubs his chin. “Let me put it to you this way. You will do as you’re told, or I will slowly pick off every single person you love.”

  No, no, no, no!

  “You’re a monster.”

  An evil smile curls his lips. “I’ll start with that sweet little friend of yours, Eve.” My hands and feet tingle and then go numb.

  “Then, I’ll work my way to Guy and your mother.”

  Numbness moves up my arms and legs to my abdomen.

  “And last, but not least,” his voice carries a sing-song tone, “I’ll end with that Neanderthal you’ve been living with, Jonah.”

  The final blow.

  Heart, mind, and soul. Numb.

  I’m no longer crying as my body and mind assimilate information. His words spin in my head over and over like a tilt-a-whirl: breed, hooker, everyone I love.

  The predicament hits me like a hurricane. In danger of passing out, I grip the arms of my chair. This isn’t happening. I lean forward and put my head between my knees, hoping to gather my bearings.

  “This is Las Vegas, darling. You know how easy it would be to make someone disappear? Bury them in a dirt hole out in the desert? Although, I won’t make it quick, I’ll have my fun with them first.”

  “Stop, please. Just please . . . stop.” I rock back and forth, my hands fisted in my hair. I hear a low keening sound, and realize it’s coming from my mouth. I pinch my eyes closed tight, praying to wake up from this nightmare.

  And here I thought he might want to know me. That maybe he missed the daughter he never knew. How could I be so stupid?


  “Why now? Why not when I turned eighteen?” My voice is pleading and desperate for answers.

  “In my business, it’s important the girls are of legal drinking age. This helps to avoid unwanted attention from the local authorities. But more importantly, I needed leverage. You’re quite the loner, darling: never had a boyfriend, very few friends. I had Guy and Eve, but they weren’t enough. Once you starting practically living with the Slade boy, it was time.” He straightens his cuffs and twists their links. His gaze swings to mine. “Do you love him?”

  I roll my lips into my mouth, refusing to answer him.

  “Ah, yes. And it seems you’re still a virgin as well.”

  From behind me, Vince muffles his laugh. Mortification and anger mix, igniting my face in a furious blush. I’m appalled that he could speak so freely with his own flesh and blood.

  “Don’t look so shocked. Sex is my business. I can tell by your blush you still retain your innocence. That will work well for me and my business.”

  Bile burns my throat. I wish I had eaten so I could vomit all over Dominick’s pretentious Oriental rug. I hate him for what he’s proposing and for what he did to my mom. I want to pounce on him and fight like a maniac. Adrenaline fills my body as I contemplate the risks involved with taking him on here in his office.

  Is today a good day to die?

  He leans forward, resting both elbows on his desk. His eyes bore into mine, making me recoil.

  “Raven, if you fight me, I’ll shoot so much heroin in your arm, you won’t know what day it is. I’ll keep you so addicted you’ll be begging for it. You’ll live out your days on a street corner, sucking off frat boys for twenty bucks a pop. You come peacefully and be a good girl, you’ll have a life very similar to that of your mother. I suppose I could make it even better, seeing as you are my daughter.”

  “I’m not your daughter!”

  He looks down his nose, studying me like a piece of art he’s considering buying. “No, I suppose you’re not. More like the product of a perfectly executed experiment.”

  “I would rather die a slow, painful death than work for you.” My hands are wrapped so tightly around the arms of the chair that my palms burn.

  “Well,” he sits back, checking out what I assume to be freshly manicured nails, “that, too, can be arranged,” he hisses with contempt.

  A defeated whimper bursts from my lips. The horrific sound confirms my lack of options. I don’t have an out.

  “So you agree? The day after your twenty-first birthday, I’ll send for you.”

  “I thought . . .” My whispered words aren’t meant to be heard.

  “You thought what, darling?”

  I look up from my lap and stare at the man who’s just ripped my heart out and stomped on it for sport. “I hate you.”

  A slow smile stretches across his face. “Very well. I’ve always been a sucker for a challenge.”

  I have no memory of how I got back in my car. I don’t remember walking, but I don’t believe I was carried. All I know is I’m sitting in the valet driveway, stone still, staring straight ahead, wondering where to go and what to do.

  And just like that, right when my life starts looking beautiful, it disappears like a mirage in the desert.

  ~*~

  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.”

  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.