by JB Salsbury
Footsteps. I’m thrown from my fantasy. My body sits up ramrod straight, eyes wide.
Each step is tentative, like someone sneaking down the hall. They sound close as the wood floor creaks outside my door.
My heart races. Could it be Jonah?
I rush to the door and press my ear to it. The knob to the door jiggles and twists. I walk backwards until my legs hit the bed. Hope and relief surge through me in waves.
Tears build at the joy of seeing Jonah again. My skin itches for his touch. I’m practically bouncing on the balls of my feet. The door inches open, revealing the tall, dark figure of a man.
I squint into the dark. “Jonah?”
“Nope, but you can go ahead and pretend. Won’t bother me at all.”
Vince. My stomach plummets. Terror snakes through my veins.
He shuts the door behind him. With a slow strut, he comes toward me. He passes through the moonlight square, illuminating his face. His eyes work my body, making his intentions clear. I want to scream, but dread freezes my most primitive reaction.
“You thought I could let you go after what your boyfriend did to me in that parking lot?” He runs the tips of his fingers from my shoulder down to my breast. “It’s payback time.”
No. My head moves from side to side, unable to articulate the word. Fear, exhaustion, and anxiety get the best of me.
He shoves me onto the bed. I scurry backwards as fast as I can. He grabs my neck, pushes me down, and climbs on top of me. I whimper. It’s not much, but it gives me hope.
React, fight, something.
“You be quiet and I’ll take it easy on you. If you fight, I’ll enjoy that, but you won’t.”
Holding my wrists together over my head with one hand, he reaches down and unzips his pants.
Oh God, please no.
He pins me to the bed with his hips. I kick and buck to get out from under him.
“Fight it is.” He licks my neck and bites my earlobe, hard. “This’ll be fun.” His breath smells like liquor. I turn my face to avoid it.
“Stop.” It’s weak, but as the word comes out so does the will to survive. “Get off—”
His hand silences me. My arms ache. My struggle is pointless.
He presses himself between my legs. Twisting and tugging, I try to rip my arms from his grip. Pain rips through my elbow. The only thing keeping him from his goal is my shorts. His weight crushes my body. He anchors me tighter to the bed. His mouth crashes against mine, drowning my screams. I fight and thrash, forcing myself deeper into the bed. My mind screams for him to burst through the door. Jonah, I need you. What do I do?
Break his arm, baby. Arm bar. Remember. Fight.
I squeeze my eyes shut as Jonah’s voice stills my racing thoughts. Tears trail down my temple. It may be panic or some innate survival response, but my lesson on the arm bar comes back in brilliant clarity. I can do this.
That’s my girl.
Waiting for the opportunity is going to be the hardest part. I need to stop fighting so he can free his hands. I breathe deep and stop squirming.
“Change your mind? Not going to fight me anymore?”
I shake my head no.
“Yeah, I knew you were a whore.”
He slides his hand over my breast to the button of my shorts. With one hand, he pushes them down my thighs. Unable to get them past my knees, he lets go of my wrists and sits up.
Opportunity.
I say a prayer for strength and move quickly. I grab his right wrist with both hands. His eyes dart to mine. I throw my leg over his arm, straddling his shoulder. He jumps in surprise. Bracing my weight on my shoulder blades, I cross my legs at my calves. His arm runs the length of my body, from knees to chest.
He struggles and grabs at me with his free hand. “You little bit—”
One powerful thrust of my hips turns his words into a scream. I pull his arm tight and flex my hips deeper into the hold. I feel and hear a sickening snap at his elbow. Vince howls in pain.
I did it.
With a tight hold, I refuse to let go. I keep my hips thrust forward and he continues to yelp. Power surges through me. He’s crying out for me to release him. I’m locked down with an unrelenting grip. He kicks and hollers on the bed.
Light pours into the room, blinding me. I push my hips harder, making Vince shriek. Something wraps around my neck . . . hands. They clamp down, choking me. I gasp and writhe. My vision adjusts to the light. I stare into the blue-green eyes of Dominick. His face is red with anger, jaw clenched tight.
And he’s not letting go.
Thirty-two
Jonah
My truck eats up highway as we blaze down the interstate. Hands vise-gripped to the wheel. Eyes scanning. Exit signs fly by in a blur of green and white. Blake is silent beside me. His head dips to the hand-drawn map then forward and back again.
I play out my strategy. No more polite conversation and deal-making. I know Dominick won’t give up Raven easily. Not after what he went through to get her. He had this planned all along, including hiring Candy to do his dirty work. I should have known.
Inwardly, I berate myself for buying into his bullshit. How could I have been so stupid? Well, that shit ain’t happening again. There are only two ways this confrontation will go. Dominick beaten into a bloody pulp, left begging for his pathetic life, or Dominick dead. And I’ll have to accomplish this while keeping Raven safe, or more importantly, alive. Fuck.
“Turn left here.” Blake’s direction calls me from my thoughts.
A quick turn and we’re on an unpaved road. I hit the four-wheel drive and lay heavy on the gas. Dirt and rocks spit from my back tires as we weave through the narrow mountain roads. My eyes focus on the path ahead.
“Fork in the road.” Blake points ahead.
I don’t have to look at the map to know which way to turn. Milena’s handwritten instructions are branded in my mind.
“Pull off. Park in the trees.” He drops the directions on the dash and grabs the handle for a quick exit.
“Pop the box and grab my Eagle.” I toss him the key to my glove box.
Within seconds the cold metal of my fifty-caliber Desert Eagle warms my hand.
I check the clip. Fully loaded. We hop from the truck and hustle back to the dirt road. I shove the gun into my waistband at my back.
We jog down the tree line, making sure to keep to the shadows. The cool mountain air invigorates me. It’s close to two in the morning. The title fight was only a few hours ago. It feels like ages. I should be exhausted, but I’ve never felt more alert.
We cross to the other side of the road where a small light shines like a beacon through the trees.
“That’s got to be it.” I don’t wait for Blake’s response, and take off toward the light.
The rickety A-frame cabin stands alone in the mass of pine trees, a one-lane dirt driveway leading to it. It’s small, probably two bedrooms at most. This shit shack looks like it’s made of scrap wood and spit. If I weren’t convinced Raven was inside, I’d drive my truck full speed through the front fucking door.
We step closer, cautiously keeping to the dark in the trees. She has to be here. Some deep part of me whispers she may not be, but I choose to ignore it. This is my only chance of getting her back.
Something catches my eye from the side of the shack. I creep closer. Bingo.
“They’re definitely here.” I motion to the hundred-thousand-dollar Benz parked in the trees next to a black Lexus sedan.
“What do you want to do? Just knock on the door and start busting caps in his pompous ass?” Blake’s idea would usually make me smile, but there isn’t a hint of humor in his voice. He’s dead fucking serious.
“Let’s check out the windows first, try to get an idea of what we’re dealing with. If I can’t get a handle on what’s going on in there, I’ll kick the motherfucking door down.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Blake moves toward the cabin.
I grab his shoulder, n
eeding to say something before we do this. “Whatever happens in there, you get her out. Understand?”
His eyebrows drop low. “If shit gets ugly, I’m not leaving you—”
“Don’t worry about me. Just get her out and far away.”
Blake puts his hands on his hips and drops his head, a string of curses flowing in a whisper.
“Promise me.”
He meets my eyes, his jaw tight. He shakes his head.
“Blake, please.”
His gaze swings to the treetops for a second then back to me. “All right. I’ll get her out.”
“Good.” I nod. “Now let’s take this fucker out.”
We run low to the ground to the cabin. I motion for Blake to take one side of the shack, whispering for him to check the windows. We’ll split up and meet in the back.
I edge up under the first window and peek inside. An empty living room. No furniture except for a wooden-framed couch. The embers from an old fire smolder in the fireplace. My eyes scour the area. No sign of Raven.
With my back to the wall, I slide to the next window. It’s frosted glass, probably a bathroom. I press my ear to it. Nothing.
In a few more steps, I’m at the back of the cabin. Blake is just rounding the opposite corner. We meet at a single window, our backs against the wall on either side. The low vibration of angry voices rumbles against the glass, but the words are indecipherable. With a nod, we glance inside.
“Holy shit,” Blake whispers through clenched teeth.
It’s dark in the room, but light from the open door is enough to illuminate the scene. Vince and Dominick surround a small bed. They’re hunched over, like vultures picking away at their prey. I don’t have to see who they’re holding down to know who it is.
Adrenaline shoots through my body, injected by a rocket launcher. The roar of my pulse pounds between my ears. An instinct to kill rushes down my spine, juicing up my muscles. My skin vibrates with lethal energy.
Get the fuck off her!
I need to draw them away, redirect their attention. I grab my gun, point it at the assholes. No. I can’t risk hitting Raven.
With a flip of my hand, I use the gun’s butt, and smash the window. Glass shatters, cutting through the silence and causing Dominick and Vince to spin around.
“Well, fuck. I guess it’s on now.” Blake’s words ring from behind me as I race to the front door.
I kick it open. The walls rattle.
Pop.
Light flashes. I stumble back. Pain explodes in my shoulder and down my arm. I blink, pushing against the nausea and agony that threatens to take me down. The fucker shot me.
“Shit. You okay?” Blake’s question is nothing more than static to my main concern.
Where is she?
I scan dimly lit room, blinking away the floaters from the flash of gunfire. Standing at the mouth of the hallway is Dominick and Vince. Both with guns raised. Vince’s is smoking.
“No, Jonah!” Raven’s voice comes from the hallway. Thank God, she’s alive.
The confirmation sends renewed strength to my mind and muscles.
I straighten from my tortured huddle, sucking air through my teeth. Fuck, this hurts. Then point my gun with my good arm. “Let her go, Dominick.” My voice sounds stronger than I feel.
“You broke into my home, Mr. Slade. I could kill you right here, in cold blood, and get away with it.” Dominick’s voice cracks with anger or frustration. I’m not sure.
“Dominick, please don’t.” Raven’s appeal ends on a whimper.
Is she hurt? I search in her direction, but can’t make her out in the dim light. She’s blocked in the hallway behind the bulk of the dicklicks who brought her here.
“Not true, asshole. In order to get away with it, you’d have to stay alive. And I can promise you, if I go down, so will you.” My aim is steady, head clear. I breathe deep and heavy, working past the pain.
“Well, we can put that to the test, although, I’d rather not have to deal with hiding dead bodies tonight.” Dominick’s tone sounds genuinely put off.
“Cut the bullshit.” I step closer, making sure to speak slowly so he understands. “I will not leave this place without her.”
His lips curl back over his teeth. “Oh, but you will. We made a bet. You lost.”
Waves of failure wash over me. “You had no intention of letting her go, did you? If I’d lost the fight, you’d just walk away?”
A chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “Brains and brawn. Impressive. And here I thought you were just a dumb jock.”
I fucking knew it. This guy plays by his own rules. I can’t believe I fell for it.
My injured arm moves on its own accord to steady my aim. “You’re de—” Dammit. Pain blazes at my shoulder.
Vince snorts with laughter. “Not so strong now, are ya? You may have taken me down in a surprise attack at the club, but I dare you to come at me now.”
Blake pulls a large hunting knife from the back of his pants. He spins it in his hand before he takes a fighting stance. He gives me a quick chin lift and focuses on the men across the room.
“Let me go.” Raven pushes at her captors, trying to get past.
My blood screams to get to her, to throw her over my shoulder and kill anyone who stands in my way. It’s my only option. I move. Dominick yanks her to his front, his gun at her head. I stop mid-stride.
“Not one more step, Slade.” His gun is pressing against her temple, her head turned away from the weapon, eyes screwed shut. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths or possible hysteria.
I push the urge to kill down deep. Right now, I need to make sure she’s unharmed.
“Baby?” I need to see her eyes, read in her expression that they didn’t hurt her. They better not have hurt her. “Baby, look at me.”
My gun is on Dominick. His on her. Vince’s moves back and forth between Blake and me.
“Jonah . . .” Desperation laces through my name as her words trail off. She blinks open her eyes and turns toward me.
Her stare is wild, the aquamarine almost glowing against their red rims. A large, bleeding gash cuts through her eyebrow. White-hot fury explodes deep in my chest. Visions of what could cause that kind of wound flash before my eyes. None of them good. I mentally shake away the possibilities of what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten here when we did. Going rat-shit crazy won’t help anyone and may jeopardize her safety. I need to focus on keeping her safe.
I lock eyes with her, hoping to God she sees something there that makes her listen. This shit is about to get ugly, and I need her as far away from it as possible.
“Baby, are you hurt? Anywhere besides your head?”
She shakes no. “I want to go home. Jonah . . .” Hysterical cries burst from her lips.
My stomach twists. “I know, baby. I’m here to take you home.” I pin Dominick with a glare. “Let her go.”
“Not a chance.” Dominick pushes the gun harder into Raven’s head, making her wince.
My finger twitches against the trigger.
“You don’t know what they did . . .W-What they were going to . . .” The sound of her soul-shaking sobs rip through the small room.
“I’m finished talking, Slade. Walk away. Now. Or she dies.”
I ignore Dominick. “Raven, everything’s going to be okay.” The look of terror in her eyes has me inching closer to comfort her.
The movement sends Dominick’s gun in my direction. Good.
Vince closes in. Blake follows suit. Tension boils in the air like acid. It’s a four-way standoff. Whoever shoots first, wins.
Blood drains from my shoulder in a steady drip. My vision blurs at the edges. I need to end this before I pass out. “Raven, baby.” I stagger a step. Shit.
“He tried to rape me.” Her words are spit at Vince.
Dominick drops his head with a muttered curse.
My eyes are drawn to her shorts, opened and unzipped. Oh, fuck no. Fire flares in my gut. My vision retur
ns with crystal accuracy, but all I can see is blood. I should have ended him that night in the parking lot. He may think he knows what pain is, but I’m about to give him a lesson in agony.
I swing my aim to Vince, step close, point blank range.
“I’m going to fuck you up, you no-good piece of shit.” My words shake with the force of my anger.
“You better start apologizing, asswipe. My friend here’s about to put a bullet in your brain.” The rage in Blake’s voice tells me he’s walking a thin line of control.
Vince and I face off. My gun to his face, his to my chest. I’m vaguely aware of the other people in the room, but right now I’ve got sniper vision and Vince is in my crosshairs. Kill first, explain later.
“Just fucking end this, Dominick.” Vince’s gun shakes in his hand. I notice he’s not using his other arm to brace the weight of his weapon, but instead has it cradled to his body. “Give me the go ahead to take this guy out. It’s the least I could do after what that whore did to my arm—”
I lower my gun to his groin.
Pop.
“Aargh!” His scream of agony has him dropping to the floor along with his gun. He curls into the fetal position whimpering.
I kick his weapon away. “I warned you.”
Blake scoops it up and aims it at the miserable mound of flesh on the floor. “Won’t be using that tool ever again, eh Vinnie?”
Vince writhes once and then goes still. Probably passed out.
“Big mistake, Slade.” Dominick shouts and the sound of Raven’s cries fill the room.
I swing my gun toward him. His arm visibly flexes around her waist, making her gasp for air. I take aim, but feel my confidence draining along with the blood that flows down my arm.
“You don’t get it. She’s mine. You want to shoot me? Go ahead. But if I die, I take her with me.” He moves toward the door, dragging Raven with him.
I move to block him. It’s a risk, but after everything, I don’t believe he would kill her now. He thrusts the gun hard, forcing her neck to an awkward angle. Fuck.
