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the back of his hand.

“Get your hands off my boyfriend.”

She looks me up and down before pressing her body closer to his. Jonah takes a step to the side, but she winds her arms around his waist, sticking to him like a Siamese twin. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?”

Even her glare is pretty.

“Step away. Now.” My voice shakes, but I stand tall.

Jonah gives her arms a final tug and she releases her hold.

She steps into my space. With her slutty shoes, she’s a good six inches taller than me. Her strapless dress reveals cut muscles that are coiled and ready. “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“No. Don’t care. But if you touch my boyfriend again, you’re going to find out who I am.”

An evil glint touches her crystal blue eyes. “I’m Camille Fisher. I fight for a living. You want to go there. Let’s go there.”

I’m sick and tired of people messing with me. She may be strong and trained, but I’m fed up and pushed past my limit.

I get right in her face and give her a smile that is most likely all teeth. “I’m Raven, Jonah’s girlfriend. And I’m a mechanic.”

She tosses her head back, her blond hair cascading around her shoulders, and laughs. “Mechanic. Scary.” She says the last word in a sing-song voice and rolls her eyes. Her body closes in.

“Baby, leave it alone. Let’s go.” Jonah slides his hand around my waist.

“Yeah, you should be scared.” I lean in until our noses are almost touching. “Every time you get in your car, I want you to think about how easy it would be for me to cut your brakes. I’m sure you have some overpriced piece of fiberglass built in some foreign country. Do you have any idea how simple it is to disassemble a car? A few missing bolts and the thing falls apart while you’re driving down the freeway.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, bitch.”

Her eyes travel back and forth between Jonah and me.

“Forget it, Camille. Let’s go,” her friend says from behind her.

“Hey, hey, hey! What do we have here? I love a good catfight.” Blake strolls up with a huge grin on his face, like he saw the entire thing and finds it hilarious. “They’re way more fun naked, but then again . . .” He scratches his chin and looks at the ceiling before looking back at us. “Isn’t everything?”

I bite my lip against a smile.

“Blake, this is Camille Fisher.” Jonah introduces Blake, and I don’t miss that he pulls me back a good two feet as he does.

Camille’s eyes sparkle as she takes in all that is Blake. He gives her a visual once- over, like he’s sizing up a meal. It’s obvious where this will end up tonight.

“Camille, you’ve got quite a mouth on you.” Blake’s double meaning makes me giggle-snort, earning me another glare from the female fighter.

“Come on, baby. Leave her to Blake.” Jonah guides me away from the group, still wiping red lipstick from his face.

“Here, allow me.” I run my thumb along his full lower lip, rekindling my anger at the reminder that another woman pressed her mouth against his. “Where do you think she parked her car?”

He kisses my finger, smiling. “Don’t know. But damn, watching you nut up on that bitch? Tough, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

I wrap my arms around his waist and kiss him. “There. All memories of her erased.” My fingers absently run along the collar of his shirt. “I don’t know what came over me. My tolerance tank was full and I snapped.”

“Now you know how it feels to be me.”

His words bring my thoughts back to earlier. As pissed as I was at Camille, Jonah must feel that a million times worse facing off with Del Toro. And there’s nothing he can do about it.

“I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Wash all this red lipstick from my hand.” I hold my hand up, and quickly drop it. I don’t need to wash my hand, I just need a second to shake off my thoughts and get through the night.

“I’ll go with—”

“No, it’s fine. You’ve got people who want to talk to you here. I’ll be back before you know it.”

His questioning stare locks on mine, as if he’s trying to read my thoughts. I avert my eyes, knowing he’ll be able to if I give him enough time.

“All right, find me when you’re done. Or I’ll find you.”

“Jonah, I’m fine. Really.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but I take my chance to leave before he changes his mind. I kiss his dimpled cheek, and slip from the room.

The maître d’ directs me to the restroom at the other side of the restaurant. I welcome the distance and take the time to sort my head. Halfway there, something familiar catches my eye. I stop mid-step and squint. No, it can’t be.

Sitting at an intimate table for two is a stunning woman with long black hair and a shimmering gold dress. She flips the dark locks in a playful manner, a bright smile lighting her face. She seems happy and carefree. If I didn’t know better I’d say she looks . . . in love.

“Mom.”

Twenty-five

Raven

It’s been two years since I’ve seen her. Part of me wants to run to her, hoping the sight of me will make her smile. I want her to tell me she’s missed me and has been meaning to call, as most moms would do with a child they haven’t seen in two years. But I’m frozen in place. Those thoughts are nothing more than the musings of a neglected child—one who wants what she’ll never have.

I study her as she sips her wine, her eyes intent on the john across the table. She tilts her head and smiles. The softness in her gaze makes my heart pinch with envy.

I’ve never been on the receiving end of her smile. Her blank stares, those I know. The way her sparkling

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