Fifteen
Raven
The bay doors slamming shut pulls me from the wiring of a ’57 Chevy. The halogen lights of the garage replace the sun that shone in when I started this project.
Where did the time go?
Drowning myself in work is a good distraction from the chaos in my head, but I’ve lost an entire afternoon.
The awareness of time brings pain to the gaping void in my chest. I haven’t heard from Jonah all day. I didn’t expect him to contact me, but I hoped he would. I check my phone again. Nothing.
“Wrap it up, Ray.”
I grab my tools and find Guy in the back, putting things away.
“Who’s on tomorrow?” I ask, tossing my set on a workbench.
He doesn’t look up from an assortment of wire terminals. “Cane. Why?”
“I thought I’d come in, you know, um, help out—”
He bangs closed a metal toolbox. “What’s goin’ on, Ray?” He studies my face. “You’ve been zip-lipped all day, and from the look on your face, I’d say someone died.”
That’s what it feels like. I shrug and pick grease from my nails, avoiding his eyes. “Nah, just thought I’d get some extra hours.”
“You hurtin’ for money?”
“No, it’s not that.” I just need to stay busy so I don’t have time to . . . feel.
His bushy, gray eyebrows drop low, making the wrinkles around his eyes more pronounced. “You and the boy havin’ problems?”
I exhale, annoyed at my transparency.
“You could say that. He has a lot on his plate with the fight coming up.” Guilt washes over me as I lie. I can’t tell him the truth. It’s too real.
He leans against a workbench and crosses his ankles. “He tell you that?”
I shake my head. “Our lives are too different.”
“And different is a bad thing?”
“You don’t understand,” I mumble to my feet.
“I’ll tell you what I do understand. I see a boy who’s lived his life in the public eye for just shy of ten years. He’s made his taste in women obvious: quick, easy, and disposable. You step on the scene, he drops it all, stands toe to toe with me, and makes his intentions clear. Differences be damned. The boy’s crazy about you.”
“Some differences are too big.”
“You listen here, Ray. I’m no expert on relationships. Only been in love once. That was over thirty years ago. But I know it when I see it.”
“You were in love?” I stare in shock at the self-proclaimed, lifetime bachelor.
“Yep, fell in love with an angel.” His eyes get soft. “But she was engaged to someone else.”
I don’t know what to say, but I want to hear more. I nod for him to continue.
“You know what I did to mess it up?”
“What?”
“Nothin’. And that’s how I lost her.” He reflects in silence for a beat, studying the garage walls. He shakes his head. “I didn’t fight for her. I could have fought, tried to get her out from under her obligation, but I didn’t. Biggest mistake of my life.”
“But she was engaged to someone else. How do you know she would have left her fiancé?”
His face falls, eyebrows low, and he studies the floor. “I’ll never know. That’s what kills me.”
The pain in his voice has me blinking back tears. “Was there never anyone else? After her?”
“I love her. She’s it for me.” He’s not speaking in past tense.
I can’t decide if that’s the saddest or the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, and yet I’m destined for a similar fate. There will never be another love for me, not like Jonah. I can see how Guy would close himself off, subject to a lifetime sentence of loneliness for one girl. But the difference is that Guy’s love was worth the fight. He didn’t fight for her, but he lives with the regret because she was worth that. Not me.
“Not everyone’s worth fighting for.”
He steps close and places his hands on my shoulders. His blue eyes look deep into mine. “I’ve seen you two together: the way he looks at you when you’re not looking, like you’re the sun and he’s happily stuck in your orbit. Never seen you with a boy before so I can’t be sure, but seein’ you messed up in the head about it, I’m guessin’ you feel the same way. You guys got something special, Ray. Fight for it. It’s worth that.”
His words rock me to the bone. Something deep and instinctual recognizes Guy’s words as truth, but I can’t get past my head: Jonah’s conversation with Owen, him pushing me off on Eve, not calling all day. All arrows point to a broken heart.
My head throbs, and I have an overwhelming urge to be alone. “Thanks, G.”
“You’re welcome. You don’t want to be me, lookin’ back on your life, wishing you could have another shot at something sweet.” He ruffles my hair then steps back. “Now, go get some sleep. You look like hell.”
He throws his arm over my shoulder and walks me to the foot of my stairs. Departing with a wave, I watch him until he disappears around the corner.
The weight of today pressing down, I drag my body up the stairs. A hot shower sounds better and better with each step. The motion light above my door flicks on, and I freeze as my foot hits the top step. Holy crud.
The old door to my apartment is gone, and in its place is a solid, dark wood one with an enormous platinum handle. My jaw falls open as I study its features: a peep hole and three gleaming locks. I grab my keys and finger through the set to find . . . Yep, there it is: a shiny new silver key. Jonah must have slipped it on my key chain this morning. The corners of my mouth lift as I examine the product of his overprotective nature, and just as quickly as the smile comes, it fades. How will I live without him?
I’m able to get myself inside before the tears start to fall. Crawling onto my bed, I bury my face in the pillow and sob. I have to believe there is a tiny chance that Jonah doesn’t want to end things. I can’t go on any other way.
But hope is such a dangerous thing. My heart dared to hope that Dominick would one day come banging on my door, begging for forgiveness. But instead, he killed every dream of a future I had. Hope. It has sustained me through my darkest days, but it also lifted me up only to drop me, breaking me into irreparable pieces. Could I live through that kind of fall again?
Crying jag over, I pull myself up and into the shower. I move through the motions, numb and absent. Dressed in drawstring fleece pants, a tank, and flip-flops, I check my phone. No missed calls.
I haven’t heard from Eve all day, and although I’d planned on ignoring Jonah’s request that I stay at Eve’s, I could use the company. It must be the new boyfriend that’s keeping her busy. Except for the occasional text message and a couple morning phone conversations this past week, she’s been unavailable. The few talks we’ve had have been one-sided. She asks me about Jonah, and I talk forever, but she never talks about herself outside of what she’s up to at work. Just thinking about her now is making me miss her terribly.
I dial her number and listen as her voicemail tells me to leave a message. With nothing better to do, I decide to drive over and drop in on her. If she’s not there, I can always try her work.
Grabbing my keys, I head to my car with the hopes of finding Eve and keeping my mind off Jonah. I relax as the hum of my Nova and the warm air that whips my hair envelop me. Elton John blasts in my ears, and in that moment, I’m just some girl, not the daughter of a prostitute and a pimp, bred for— Ugh! I slam my hand on the steering wheel and focus on the crooning voice of Sir Elton. I punch the gas, singing at the top of my lungs and hoping to chase away the worst of my demons.
As I pass a strip of fast-food restaurants, I’m hit with the smell of hot oil and french fries. My stomach rumbles its complaint. With everything that’s been going on today, I’ve forgotten to eat. I try Eve’s phone again. Voicemail. I redirect my car to hit my favorite drive-thru.
Turning left towards the lights of the Vegas strip, I head down Tropicana. The flashing neon of a club up ahead gets my attention. There’s a line of people wrapped around the building. I recognize it immediately as Zeus’s Playground, one of the high-end strip clubs in town. Stuck at a stoplight, I look at the club, shaking my head at all the men who are about to drop a week’s pay down the panties of a stripper while the little woman is probably home taking care of the kids. Pathetic.
My gaze moves back to the road in front of me when something catches my eye. In the parking lot of the club, I would recognize it anywhere. I squint hard. My head gets light, and the blood drains to pool in the pit of my empty stomach. I fight the impulse to vomit or pass out.
Jonah’s truck.
I blink, hoping to clear the optical illusion. The honking of a car horn startles me and causes me to look ahead. The light’s green, and I need to drive, but I can’t get my limbs to cooperate.
He said he had a meeting.
A quick shot of anger brings my body around, and I press the gas to get through the intersection. With trembling hands, I pull off to the side of the road. I take another hard look. Blake had mentioned this place at the barbeque. It was where he met the girls he brought. All of them, including Candy.
Jonah’s in there with Candy.
And just like that, hope has dropped my sorry butt off a cliff.
Panic floods my veins. My breathing is labored, like I’m sucking air through a straw. I shake out my arms, trying to rid them of the numbness taking over, but movement only pushes the sensation into my torso. My heart beats fast—too fast. Terror spreads through my body. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Oh please, God, not now.” I pray aloud with hopes of divine intercession.
An anxiety attack grips my body. Tears stream down my face, and I struggle against the lost feeling that threatens to overtake me. I push against my sternum, willing my heart to slow.
“Come on, Raven. Talk yourself down.” I take a breath. “I’m in control.”
My eyes fly open at my pitiful lie. Control? That’s the last thing I have. My hands grip either side of my head and I rock back and forth.
Of course, he’s there. Why would he want to be with me, the future hooker? I close my eyes tightly. The daughter of a pimp. My body shakes. The grease monkey, tomboy. My head pounds. The virgin.
I need to calm down. Stop acting like a helpless little girl. I breathe in deep through my nose and out my mouth, until my mind slows enough for me to think straight. I need to decide what to do now. Should I go confront him? Why? So he can tell me to my face, with Candy straddling his lap, that he doesn’t want me? I pull back into the street, almost hitting another car, and speed to Eve’s.
Throwing my car in park at the curb outside her house, I walk up the front path. I’m shaking, but still. Pained, but numb. Bleeding, but alive. Consumed with confusion and contradictions.
I reach her door and knock as hard as I can. After a few clicks of the lock, the door opens to expose a very skimpily dressed Eve. Through the small crack in the door, I can see lit candles in the background.
“Raven, what are you doing here?”
“I called. You didn’t answer.” It’s all I can manage without breaking out in a full-body sob.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve been . . . busy.” She looks guilty and a little ashamed.
Her eyes seem sketchy as she looks over my shoulder to the street behind me. I look to see what’s stealing her attention. There, parked in the street, is a black H2. My eyebrows pull together.
I must have missed it when I pulled up. I guess seeing my boyfriend’s car at a strip club where his ex-hook up works when he told me he had a work meeting made me unobservant. My arms wrap protectively around my chest and my shoulders curl forward, holding myself together. I might dissolve completely at the slightest breeze of pain.
“Eve, who’s at the door?” a deep voice beckons from behind her. My wide eyes lock with hers in shock and silent apology.
“Oh, Eve, I’m so sorry. You have company. I’ll go.”
Wait, why does that voice sound familiar?
“No, Rave, wait. You look horrible. Have you been crying? What’s going on?”
She still hasn’t opened the door anymore, but her face shows concern. A large hand curls around her waist from behind, and a tall man comes into view over her shoulder.
Holy shit!
~*~
Jonah
It’s nine forty-five and the club is getting crowded. Even from my seat at the bar, it’s hard to see through the bodies filling the place. The girls finally got the hint that we aren’t here for entertainment. Their advances went beyond annoying to borderline hostile in the last hour. Blake and I finally had to tell them to back off and get the hell out of our way.
“Can I get you a drink, man?” the bartender asks for the third time, irritation lacing his voice.
This kid is pissing me the fuck off. My head swivels in his direction and I drill him with my stare. A beer would do wonders to calm my urge to kill, but there’s no way I’ll be anything less than one hundred percent coherent when I face Dominick.
He throws his hands up and takes a step back. “Whoa, I don’t want any trouble. But you can’t sit here all night and not buy a drink. I’m just following the rules.”
I pull a hundred dollar bill from my pocket and toss it his way.
“On second thought,” he nabs the cash, “enjoy your night.”
I go back to surveying my surroundings.
No sign of Dominick. Selena told Blake that he usually comes in around this time of night to work some of his girls. We’ve been here for an hour and he’s a no show.
“How long do you want to hang out?” Blake asks, his eyes scanning the room.
“As long as it takes. Raven’s with Eve so I have all night.”
I have fight-night focus. My senses are sharp. Every male voice draws my attention along with every opening door. Adrenaline runs high, as does my determination. I will not leave this place until I meet with Dominick.
I swallow a growl when I feel a small, feminine hand move up my shoulder. Can these girls not take no for an answer? Turning towards its owner, I cringe. I don’t need this shit.
“Hey, stranger,” Candy purrs, with her fake, over-affected seduction.
I jerk my head in acknowledgement.
Leaning forward, she brings her lips to my ear. “I told you, you’d be back.”
“Not in the mood for your games tonight, Candy.”
She gasps when I remove her from my shoulder and go back to scanning the room.
“Don’t tell me you’re still with that trashy little girl,” she scoffs.
What did she just say? My gaze swings toward her.
Her puffy lips lift into a satisfied smile. “You never gave me the chance to show you what I could do for you, lover.” She runs a sharp nail from my shoulder and down my arm, her eyes following its path. “I’d do things to you that would make you forget that dirty skank’s name.” She swings a leg over my knee, rubbing against me like some pathetic animal.
I stand and she stumbles back, my sudden movement throwing her off balance. She looks up at me and her eyes grow wide. I would never hit a girl, but this bitch is pushing my buttons. I’m already walking the fine line of my temper. She picked the wrong night to fuck with me.
“One night, Candy. That’s all we had and that’s all we’ll ever have. You need to squash these deluded fantasies you have about us. It ain’t gonna happen. Ever. Understand?”
She opens her mouth to speak, but I’m not finished.
“And if you ever speak about my girl like that again, I will ruin you. You won’t be able to move far enough away to escape the reputation I’ll give you. Only job you’ll be able to get is shit-pumping port-a-potties. We clear?”
Her eyes narrow and her mouth moves, but for the first time the bitch is speechless.
“Now, leave me the fuck alone.”
Face flushed, she spins and storms off.
I lean against the bar and go back to scanning the room. If that speech doesn’t get Candy off my back, nothing will. It’s then I notice a new group of men standing around a table. One of them has blond hair, but his back is to me, so I can’t see his face.
Blake grabs my arm and grins his cocky smile. “It’s go time.”
He jerks his head in the direction of the light-haired man. A slight shift in the man’s position and I see his face. Dominick Morretti.
A low hum of energy coils in the back of my head. My legs move me forward while my mind visualizes taking this prick-ass down. Pressing in through the crowd, I force back my protective instinct and wrestle with reason. I focus on my breathing and remind myself to stay calm. For Raven.
Don’t kick his ass. Not here. Not yet.
An aggressive presence prickles from behind me. I look over my shoulder to see Blake, his jaw clenched and his fists tight at his sides. He’s ready to throw down, and I’m grateful that he has my back.
I approach Dominick while he’s chatting with a group of businessmen. I catch a second of the conversation that clearly involves selling a few of his women for the night. Imagining for a moment that it’s Raven he’s selling, the buzz in my head explodes. Fuck that. My arms burn to reach out and break this fucker’s neck right here and now.
“Lock it down, man. For her.”
Blake’s words push me forward.
I take the last step, placing me a foot away. “Dominick Morretti. I need a word.”
He swivels around and meets my eyes. I’m taken aback by how much his look like Raven’s. There’s no doubt this is her father. My stomach roils. I don’t smile, and I can only imagine that my face looks about as friendly as a rabid pit bull.
“Why if it isn’t ‘The Assassin.’” He sneers. “Gentlemen, what a treat we have tonight.” A slow clap of his hands has the men at the table’s attention. “The undefeated contender.”
The men at the table acknowledge me, but my eyes burn into Dominick.
He must sense I’m not here for a meet and greet, and he leans in so no one can hear him but me. “I have a feeling I know what, or should I say whom, you want to have a word about.”
Blake steps close, placing his shoulder between me and Dominick and making him lean back.
“You want to go somewhere private or would you rather have it out right here? I’m cool either way,” I spit through my teeth.
His face turns to stone, his previous bravado gone. He nods to a man who takes his place and excuses himself from the group of patrons. I follow him toward the back of the club.
We’re in a dark hallway with doors running along its sides. I follow Dominick to the very last door and into an office. He doesn’t move to the desk chair, but instead stays in front of it, leaning against it. There’s shuffling behind me and I hear the door close. Two men stand on either side of Dominick against the wall. My senses go on high alert. They’re here to protect him against us. Smart.
“Have a seat Mr. Slade and . . .” he looks to Blake with raised eyebrows. “Mr. Daniels.”
“How the fuck do you know me?” Blake says from my side.
“I know everything, Mr. Daniels. Now, sit.”
“We’d rather stand,” I snap.
“Suit yourself.” He grins and I don’t miss his eyes darting to our fisted hands. “What can I help you with, boys? Looking to set up a date? I’ve got some beautiful girls who would love to spend some time with you, for the right price.” Locking eyes with me, his lips curl back from his teeth. “If you’d be willing to wait a few weeks, I can arrange for you to have a new girl. She’s never been used before. She’ll cost a little extra, the virgins always do—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I roar.
“You son of a bitch!” Blake yells at the same time.
Blood drums in my ears. He’s obviously provoking me, trying to get me to attack him so he can take me out, leaving Raven defenseless so he can pray on her like the scavenging fuck that he is. I fist my hands against the urge to destroy him. My hands flex so tight, I feel the bite of my nails breaking the skin. The buzzing in my brain is nuclear. I push through the fog and focus on Raven. My muscles twitch with unbridled fury.
“What do you want, Dominick? For Raven? I’ll give you whatever you want in return for her freedom.”
Dominick leans back and props his expensive loafers onto the desk.
“Whatever I want, huh? Don’t think you have anything I want, Mr. Slade.”
“Name your price.”
“You don’t have enough.”
“Try me.”
He stares at me in silence while spinning his gold pinkie ring with his thumb.
“Ten million dollars, cash.”
Shit. That’s a lot of money. My chest constricts. This is a lost cause. I can’t afford that. If I sell my house, my cars, everything I have in savings . . . dammit, that’s still not enough.
“Or,” he looks at Blake then back to me, “we could make this interesting.” He taps his bottom lip with his finger.
I’d give anything to bust that lip open.
“I’ll tell you what. You want to win my daughter? Throw your title fight.”
His words suck the air from my lungs.
“Fuck me,” Blake whispers.
“You boys must be aware of the odds in this fight. You’re the favorite to win. If I put enough money on Del Toro, and he wins, I could become a very rich man. You lose that fight, I’ll release Raven.”
“Done.” My answer bursts forth without hesitation. I would give up anything for her, including my life’s dream. She’s my dream now.
“I have one stipulation. The fight must go three rounds. You can’t just walk into the octagon with your hands at your side. Make it believable, as if you’re fighting to win.”
Blake steps close and Dominick’s bodyguards follow suit. “That’s impossible. He goes out there to fight. Del Toro’s down.”
Dominick’s eyes stay focused on mine. “That’s what makes it a challenge. Are you up for the challenge, Mr. Slade?”
“I’ll do it.” I can do anything if it means being with Raven.
Blake murmurs a string of foul words while depraved satisfaction shines in Dominick’s eyes. He reaches out to shake my hand. I hesitate.
Rage rides me hard, and I know if I touch this man I may lose it. I picture Raven’s smiling face and take a deep breath. I force my hand forward and shake his, harder than necessary.
“It’s a deal,” he says. “Are we done here?”
“No, one more thing.” I place both palms on the edge of the desk and lean forward, looming over Dominick. His bodyguards step up close, flashing their weapons under their suit coats. “You stay the hell away from Raven. I don’t want you to contact her, threaten her, or even think about her. You got someone on her, you call them off. She’s mine. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. Whatever. It. Takes.”
The all-consuming buzz has me shaking with the need to fuck this guy up. Blake reaches from behind me and pulls me back by my biceps. I lean forward on pure instinct.
“Come on, man. You got what we came for. Let’s get outta here.” Blake drags me backwards, my piercing scowl locked on Dominick.
Yeah, good idea, before I kill this bastard.
I rip free of Blake’s hold and leave the room.
“Good night, gentleman.” Dominick’s cackling laughter fades as we walk down the hall.
I’m a bomb, live and loaded, ready to rip the shit out of anyone that looks at me wrong. My muscles coil, pulse racing.
I shove the front door open and hear the satisfying smack as it slams against the exterior wall of the club.
“Easy, man,” some douchebag college kid says standing with a group of his pissant friends.
I stalk over and step right up in his face. “The fuck you say?”
“Nothing. It’s cool.” The kid shifts and steps back into the safety of his friends, unaware they’ve all backed up a good ten feet.
My lips curl. I advance a step.
“Come on. Don’t make the poor bastard crap his pants in front of his friends.” Blake’s tone is joking, but he doesn’t move to touch me. He knows better than to put a hand on me when I’m this close to lighting shit up.
Dropping the little punk will make me feel better. Nothing satisfies the beast within like a good street fight—until recently. There’s one thing that works even better.
I turn away and hear him exhale a “Thank you, Jesus” as I head to my truck.
“Breathe, brother.” Blake’s voice comes from behind me.
“Raven. I need her. Now.”