Fighting for Flight JB Salsbury (room on the broom read aloud .TXT) 📖

I rest my elbows on my thighs. I run my hands through my hair like my head is a genie’s bottle and I’m begging for my three wishes.

What in the hell just happened?

You called her a bitch, asshole.

What was I thinking? I was pumped up from my meeting with Dominick and sick of being away from Raven all day. I’ve never seen that attitude from her before. It caught me off guard, and I slipped. But she was pissed before that.

Growling in frustration, I sit back and stare at the ceiling in my living room. This isn’t over. I’m not letting her get away with a simple fucking hang-up.

No. She will talk to me and tell me what the fuck is going on. Jumping up from the couch, I grab my keys. I’ll drive every street of this city until I find her.

My truck thunders through the streets of Las Vegas. I check everywhere. First Raven’s studio, then Nori Pizza where Eve works. The hostess gave me Eve’s address so I could check there. After I talk to Raven and give her a firm spanking, I’m talking to Eve. Employees shouldn’t be giving out addresses. The way the girl acted, I probably could have gotten her bank account and social security numbers if I’d asked.

No sign of her Nova anywhere. After an hour of circling the city, I go back to her place and wait.

Parked out front of Guy’s Garage, I replay my conversation with Raven for the millionth time. She usually answers the phone with a smile in her voice. This time she was pissed from hello. What could I have done to upset her from the time I left her in my bed this morning?

I watch the numbers on the clock climb. It’s just after one in the morning. Rubbing the exhaustion from my eyes, I hear the familiar rumble of Raven’s Nova. She’s driving like an Andretti. Her car screeches through the turn into the parking lot. I jump out of my truck as she throws the Nova into a spot sideways. She slams shut her car door, muttering something about reinforced steel walls.

I make it to her as she’s turning around. She jumps and stops herself just short of running into my chest. I reach to pull her to me. She stiffens, dodging my embrace. Her eyes avoid mine, but I can tell she’s been crying.

What the fuck?

“Baby, don’t close me out. I don’t understand what I did—”

She silences me with a piercing glare.

“Okay, I called you a bi— uh, the b-word. I’m so sorry for that. If I could take it back I would.”

I cup her cheek and pray she doesn’t push me away. The moment my skin connects with hers, she presses into my hold and closes her eyes. A lone tear makes a path down her face, pooling at my hand.

“Baby, talk to me. What did I do? You were pissed before I called you. When you answered the phone, I could tell you were mad.” She leans into my hand. “What you said about my meeting—”

She snaps out of my hold with wide eyes and stands to her full five foot eight inches. Her face is hard, the softness she showed earlier completely erased.

“What’s wrong? You want to know what’s wrong?” she says with a shaky voice and cold, hard gaze.

I’ve never seen her like this. She’s furious. I reach for her again and she shoves my arms away. I step back.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong, Jonah. I was told yesterday by my biological jerk-wad that he bred me for prostitution. Then, my boyfriend took better care of me than I’ve ever been taken care of in my life, just to turn around and break my fucking heart!”

I flinch at her curse. “Broke your heart?”

“Do you know what it’s like to go your entire life never being touched? Never being told that you’re loved?” She laughs and her lip quivers as she wipes her tears. “No one was ever there for me. Not when I was sick. Or sad. Never. Can you even fathom the effect that has on a person? They have a term for it. It’s called Failure-to-Thrive Syndrome.”

She exhales and her shoulders slump. “You want to know the first time I heard the words ‘I’m proud of you’?”

My heart cramps with every broken word.

“March 16, 2007. Sick isn’t it? I remember the exact day. I was fifteen years old. It wasn’t my mom or my dad who said it. It was Guy. My high school shop teacher.”

Her eyes glisten with tears. I picture a little dark-haired girl crying alone with no one to comfort her. My hatred for her parents roots deep in my soul. Even now, it’s not my Raven standing before me. It’s that sad little girl who desperately wants to be loved. Who craves the touch and comfort that only a parent can provide. I want to reach out and hold her, but her arms wrapped around her body in a protective shield.

“Then you come along.” Her voice is softer now and she meets my eyes.

I am undone, powerless against her pain.

“You hold me, protect me, worry about me . . . tell me you love me. And the sun shines on me for the first time in my life. I look beyond your past, your reputation, all because I’m so desperate for what you give me. I fell so deeply and madly in love with you I couldn’t see straight.”

I watch the clear waters of her eyes turn stormy and cold. “And then you find out what I really am and you run to her. Not even twenty-four hours after you left me warm in your bed, you go to her!” Her last words break with the cries that assault her body.

Her? I don’t have any idea what she’s talking about, but I hate myself anyway for hurting her like this.

“Raven, baby, you have to listen to me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.