I wait, listening to dead air. Come on, Rave. Pick up, pick up. My heart hammers in my chest, and my eyes dart around the open space.
If that jerk was around, he’d nab me no problem. Out here, I’m a sitting duck.
“Your call is connected.” There’s a small click.
“Eve, oh my gosh, Eve? Where are you?” Raven’s voice is deep with sleep and heavy with concern.
“A man came to my house. My dad sent . . .” I can’t breathe. The words rush to the surface and none of them make sense.
“Where the fuck are you?” Jonah’s voice comes roaring through the phone.
“Oh God, Jonah, I’m hiding. I’m . . .” Why can’t I breathe?
“Eve. Calm down. Listen to me.”
“Mm.”
“Are you home?”
“No. I ran.”
“Close to home?”
I nod a couple times before I realize he can’t see me. “Yes, the apartments.”
“Okay, listen. You hear that?”
There’s a grumble in the background. An engine?
“That’s the truck. I’m on my way to you.”
“Okay, okay, okay. Yeah.”
“Breathe, Eve. I’m on my way. You stay on the phone with me until I get there. Won’t be long.”
“Yeah, but what if he finds me out here.”
“Fuckin’ shit.” I hear the sound of his hand gripping the phone tight. “Who the hell’s after you?”
“I . . . I don’t know. Dude just showed up. I ran, hid, didn’t know who else to call.”
“You did the right thing. Just hang tight.”
“Okay, but hurry.”
“I’m three minutes away. You good?”
“I’m scared.”
“Yeah, I get that. Stay on the phone.”
“Okay, I’m . . . okay.”
“Two minutes, babe.”
I don’t answer verbally, but the swell of tears I’ve been holding back begins to well. He’s almost here. I’ll be okay. I blow out a long breath of relief when I see his lifted black truck squeal around the corner.
I run out into the middle of the street to flag him down, not even bothering to hang up the pay phone.
Thirty
Eve
“Here, this should help.” Raven hands me a steaming cup of herbal tea.
I haven’t been able to stop shaking. The tremors at the pay phone only got worse once I was safe in Jonah’s truck. It’s as if my body was waiting until I was safe before it hit me hard with the trauma shakes.
“Thank you.” I wrap my trembling hands around the warm porcelain mug.
Jonah enters with the phone to his ear. “Thanks. I’d appreciate that. We’ll be by to move her out tomorrow. No, that’s it. Thanks, Dave.”
I grip my tea to keep my hands steady. “What did he say?”
Jonah called his police connection on the way home after I told him what happened. The on-duty cops swung by my place and reported to Dave what they found, and Jonah just received that call.
He leans his hip against the island counter and pulls his robed wife into his arms. “Dude tossed the shit out of your place.”
“Dammit.” I drop my chin and try to keep my emotions in check. “I know he didn’t find any money. Did they say if anything was missing?”
“Eve, the guy cleaned you out: jewelry, TV, your phone. Safe to assume anything you had of value is gone.”
Raven slams her palms to the countertop. “That motherfucker!”
My eyes dart to her. She never used to curse until she married Jonah, and now she does on occasion, but I’ve never heard her drop an em-effer.
“It’s okay, Rave. You know nothing I have is worth jack crap. Whatever he made out with will probably buy him a couple twenties at the pawn shop.”
“Hate to state the obvious, but you need to move out. Get a PO Box for your mail, and go unlisted for a while. Probably wouldn’t hurt to get a new phone number too.” Jonah rubs his wife’s back. “You know, when you get a new phone.”
“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” My situation comes crashing over me in an all-encompassing downfall. “Shit.”
I have nothing. No job, no money, and now what little I did have, was stolen from me. How am I going to start over with nothing? There’s the job with Cameron, taking over for Layla, but chances are after he breaks my heart he’ll renege on that offer too.
The weight of Jonah’s stare lifts my gaze to his. I self-consciously wipe my mouth. “What?”
“You’ve been here for over an hour.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” I start to stand, but don’t have the slightest idea where I’ll go.
“Why haven’t you called Cameron?”
The air grows heavy with tension. I drop back down to my stool. “Oh, um . . .”
“Noticed you called me instead of him.” Jonah’s head tilts, eyes narrow.
Raven’s eyes do the same.
“We, um . . . We broke up.”
“What!” Raven stands up only to have her husband place hands on her shoulders and lower her back down to sitting.
I shake my head. “Don’t freak out; it’s okay.” No, it’s so, so not okay. “It’s for the best.”
Jonah keeps quiet, but his intense glare seems to inspect my every word.
“Pretty sure the guy still has feelings for his ex.” I paint on my most carefree smile. “I’m not mad. We were just hanging out anyway.”
Silence ticks between us.
Raven clears her throat. “You sure?”
“Mm-hmm.” I sniff away the burn of held-back tears.
Her scowl tightens. “You’re exhausted. Let’s get you to bed.” She comes around the counter and grabs my tea. “Come on. I’ll get you settled in with some pj’s in the guest room.”
I look down at my filthy tank and pants. “I need a shower.” I stand and swing my eyes to Jonah. “Thanks. You saved my ass big time.”
“You’re family,” he says, but he doesn’t smile. His jaw ticks, and I get the feeling he’s either thinking about revenge on the guy who did this or a firm talking-to with Cameron. My chest warms from the power of his concern, which only goes to illustrate his point.
We are family.
Raven and me, now Jonah and the baby.
Not the man who’s used me for money since I was old enough to make it. Or the woman who moved across the country in search for the better life she deserved, but apparently didn’t think her only fucking daughter deserved the same. Not the countless men who have come and gone and made promises they never kept.
Jonah and Raven, Blake and Layla, hell even a pissy Mason feels like family.
And Cameron. He and Ryder felt like more once. But not now.
No, I know who I can trust.
##
I lie in Raven and Jonah’s huge guest bedroom, sprawled out like a starfish on the king-sized bed. Staring at the ceiling, I finally feel rested. I have no clue what time it is, but the sun is high, and I have a lot to do today, which includes making this guest bedroom my new temporary residence.
A small knock sounds on the door. “Good morning, you up?”
“Yeah, Rave. Come on in.”
She pushes through the door, and judging by the robe she’s still wearing, I’d say she hasn’t been up long either.
“What time is it?”
She drops down on the bed with me, her head on the pillow next to mine. “Almost eleven.”
I groan and throw my forearm over my eyes. “I haven’t slept in this late since after I stayed up for three days at that Electric Dance Festival.”
“You needed your sleep.” She doesn’t quite sound like her perky self. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep or possibly the pregnancy hormone stuff, but either way my friend is off.
“Same to you.” I roll to my side and prop my head in my hand. “You’re sleeping for two, ya know.”
Her hand goes to her belly, and a tiny grin pulls at her lips as she looks down at the baby.
“Don’t need a reminder. Jonah makes it very clear all that I’m doing and not doing for two.” No more smile.
“Uh-oh. What now?”
She shakes her head. “You don’t want to know.”
“I just asked you, pisslicker. Tell me.”
With a groan, she scoots her pregnant body down and flips toward me on her side, mirroring my position. “He won’t let me do anything already, but after last night?” She shakes her head.
“Oh, is this about driving the Nova?”
“Yeah, I mean I conceded that point about the Nova and its safety. I agreed I wouldn’t drive it until after the baby is born. He informed me this morning before he took off that he’d ‘prefer’ I tell Guy I’m done with work until further notice.”
Wow, that’s a bit controlling. It’s like when Cameron ordered my drink and my meal for me last night at The Striphouse. It was torture to sit there like a good little submissive while he took all my choices away from me, but there’s something to be said for man who’ll make the hard calls, risk pissing her off if it means keeping her safe and happy.
“So no work, no car. Anything else?”
Her serious blue-green eyes fix on mine. “Yes, he tells me what to eat, what not to eat, when to take my vitamins, even what brand to take. I can’t go near Dog’s litter box anymore, and he’s obsessed with having no soft cheese in the house.”
I don’t know much about pregnancy, but this all seems a little extreme.
Raven sniffs and rests her hand on her belly. “I know he’s worried about the baby and me.”
“He loves you, Rave. Just tell him he’s being a jackass.”
She shakes her head and picks at the terry robe. “No, I understand why he’s scared. I mean losing his Dad so tragically he’s afraid something will happen to the baby and me.” She flips and drops back to the pillow. “I’m sorry. I’m totally making this about me.”
“Please, I’d much rather talk about your fucked-up life than mine.” A shadow of a smile tugs at my lips. “Kinda feels like old times.”
Life has been so good for Raven lately, but there was a time, years and years of time, where we’d just drive and vent about our shitty lives. She’d always be complaining about her mom; I’d be bitching about my dad. It worked out great because the second I wished I had a mom around I’d listen to Raven bitch about Milena and decide maybe a mom’s not all that cool. I’m pretty sure my dad stories did the same for her.
“Remember that night senior year when we drove all the way to Barstow?”
I can’t help but laugh at the memory, and it feels so damn good. “We had big plans, huh?”
She dissolves into full-belly laughter. “That song.”
“Oh my gosh, Raven, the song! Yes.” We’d written a song on the way there and swore we could sell it in Hollywood and make millions. “I still remember the words.”
“You and me were lovers at fi-irst, you and me were fi-irst lovers, oh . . .”
We both double over, holding on to each other’s arms and laughing until tears stream from our eyes and our bellies cramp.
Raven catches her breath. “Holy crap! That was so much fun. We had the world at our fingertips that night.”
“Yeah . . .” I wipe the laugh-tears from my eyes. “Until we got hungry and decided we’d try again another day but bring more food.”
Her eyes go unfocused, and she swings her gaze out the window as if she’s seeing that night vividly in her mind’s eye.
“For all the shit that was thrown at us, Rave, we made it through all right.”
She turns toward me, a peaceful expression softening her features. “Yeah. I’d give anything for even a little taste of the freedom we had that night.”
I hate seeing her so down, and after the night I’ve had, I think we could both use a little freedom. “So?” I raise an eyebrow. “Let’s go for it.”
Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head. “Oh, no, Jonah would kill me.”
“Is he here?”
“No, he’s at the training center.” She chews on her fingernail, letting the idea marinate. “He won’t be home until tonight.”
“A ten-minute cruise around the neighborhood.” A flutter of excitement ignites in my belly. I sit up cross-legged. “We’ll roll the windows down, blast your crappy fifties music. It’ll be just like old times.”
“I don’t know, Eve.”
“Oh come on! It’ll be fun. And just think. You’ll get it out of your system, and you won’t get pissed at Jonah anymore.”
“Fine.”
“What? I mean”—I shake my head—“are you serious?”
“Yes, dork!” She stands up from the bed and holds her hand out. “But I’m not going to hide it from Jonah. I’ll tell him tonight when he gets home. He’ll be pissed for a second, but I’ll take the tires off of it and put it on blocks if that’s what it takes to convince him that I’ll never do it again.”
“Yes!” I hop off the bed. “Can we grab a coffee while we’re out?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fine. Now get dressed and meet me in the kitchen before I change my mind.” Without another word, she races from the guest room, and I race toward my . . . Crap. I have no clothes.
“Wait, Rave. I need something to wear!”
“I’ll bring you some!” she calls from down the hallway.
A slow smile pulls at my lips. This is exactly what I need. Being like this with Raven, having this little taste of our history, reminds me of how much I need her, and she me. Here this whole time I thought that Jonah and the baby would fill the spot I occupy in her heart. But is it possible that spot is sectioned off for only me? That there’s enough room for all of us to co-exist? Maybe she gets something from our friendship that she won’t get from her husband and kid.
With our Nova ride at the forefront of my thoughts, I forget that I still haven’t heard from Cameron or that the way we left things last night and the subsequent position he was in with his ex in his house does not equal good things for us. Okay, so maybe I remember all that, but I don’t dwell on it.
Instead, I gear up for some time with my best friend, doing what we do best: laugh, sing, and pretend things don’t suck.
Thirty-One
Cameron
Today is for shit.
Not only did I wake up late and end up racing through the training center doors still buttoning up my shirt, but I never did get a chance to call Eve. I managed to send her a text but had to bullshit the dude I was in the meeting with and say I was crunching numbers on my phone in order to do it. It was short, but I hoped it was enough to let her know that I was thinking about her.
It’s just after eleven and still no reply.
She’s pissed. That’s the only explanation. I wasn’t thinking clearly yesterday. With so much emotional turmoil, it was nearly impossible to do or say the right things. Now that I’ve survived another one of the twins’ birthdays, I can see that it was a mistake to leave Eve at the restaurant last night. I should’ve left D’lilah to her own devices.
“Did you reschedule the announcement?”
I look up and Layla’s standing in the doorway, holding up my printed schedule for today.
“What? No, why?”
She shakes the paper at me. “Um, because the announcement meeting started ten minutes ago.”
Shit! I push back from my desk and grab my planner that clearly is zero help if I don’t actually look at it.
“Forgot.” I pass her and head toward the conference room where all my local fighters should be waiting.
“Figured that.” Layla slaps a folder to my chest that should have all the information I need for this announcement. “Go get ’em.”
Damn, this woman is assistant gold.
I push through the conference room door. “Gentlemen . . .”
There’s a feminine clearing of throat: Camille, my first fighter in what I hope to be a very successful female UFL division.
“And lady.” I drop the folder at the
head of the table in front of an empty seat. “Sorry I’m late. Hopefully what I have to say won’t take long.”
It’s funny. I can’t pinpoint the exact reason why I looked up to find Jonah in the crowd, but I do, and when I do, there’s no doubt in my mind that I must’ve felt his glare before I saw it. My muscles tighten in a defensive response to the aggression that’s rolling off him and aimed directly at me.
What the fuck is his problem?
“Anyway, the reason I called this meeting is to announce that the day after tomorrow there will be a press conference announcing my fight with Rusty Faulkner.”
The room is silent except for a few whispered “oh-shits” and “motherfucks.”
“For those of you who know my history, I’m taking this fight on fully aware of the dangers, so don’t corner me in the locker room with your Come-to-Jesus talks, all right?”
I go into a few details of the fight and field a few questions.
“What happens if you die?” Reece leans back and interweaves his fingers behind his head. “Who’s gonna take over for you?”
My temper’s running close to the surface, and I push back what I really want to say to Reece. “Not dying, so there’s no need to discuss that.”
“No disrespect, Cam.” Blake leans forward with his forearms on the table. “But we got fucked, lube-free, from the last douchebag-dick that ran this place. Figure we deserve to know what happens if this fight doesn’t go as planned.”
Blake’s sitting next to Jonah, who is still glaring at me as if the sheer power of his eyes could destroy me.
“My plan is to stay on my feet and waltz out of that octagon a winner. Shit goes bad, the board will get a guy in here that’s probably a hell of a lot nicer than I am.”
Blake shrugs. “Good enough.”
Reece glares at me. “Right, so if you’ll—”
The sound of a cellphone ring echoes through the room. Are these guys kidding me? I groan and drop my forehead only to look up and see Jonah on his cell.
“Yes, she’s my wife. What the fuck is going on?”
The room falls silent with tension with the seriousness of Jonah’s demand. My muscles crank up even tighter, every sense on high-alert. I know that tone. I’ve heard it in my own voice, and the sound of it still haunts my worst nightmares.
Fighting the Fall Page 24
