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

eyes go dead when she looks at me, I know that too. And she’s certainly never looked at me with love. Indifference, yes. Resentment, maybe.

Love? No.

She wouldn’t give me that. But here, for the right price, she gifts these things to a stranger. He’s paid for it. He is deserving of it, but not me, not her own daughter.

My breath becomes short. Anger boils my insides. Tears launch their brutal attack without mercy. This time, I don’t fight them. I savor the sting on my cheeks as the salty evidence of my neglect consumes me. I welcome the sadness and desperation as it spurs on my rage.

I’ve been such a fool. Daydreaming about what might be. I have no parents. They used each other to create a sick joke of a human being for their own selfish reasons. I’ve put up with the neglect and abuse for long enough. No more.

My legs begin a journey my mind hasn’t caught up to. Before I know it, I’m standing at their table. My eyes lock on my mom. I sense the curious stare of her date from the corner of my eye, but I wait. I wait to be acknowledged by her.

It doesn’t take long before her face turns to me with a polite smile, probably thinking I’m a waitress, and then falls instantly: blank stare, dead eyes.

No smile for me, mom? What a shocker.

Silently, our eyes locked on each other, my lips curl.

“Can we help you?” says the john.

I ignore him and speak directly to her. “How could you?” The acrid tone of my words makes her shift in her seat.

“Raven,” she whispers my name like it’s a dirty word. Her eyes dart around the room. “I’m on a date. Call me tomorrow and we can—”

“How fucking could you? You smile at him.” I point an accusing finger at the john. “But you can hardly stand to look at me!” My fist slams against their table, shaking the china. “Your own daughter.”

Eyes on the john, she shakes her head and shrugs as if to say, I don’t know what she’s talking about.

Bitch!

“I’m sorry about this, Mark. There must be some mis—”

“You’re sorry, Mark?” My glare swings back and forth between Mark and my mom. “You’re sorry, fucking Mark? You ruined my life!”

Mark jumps from his chair. “Watch your tone! We’re having dinner, and if you know what’s best for you, you’ll turn around and walk out of here. Now.”

I have no intention of walking out of here. Not without saying what I need to say.

“Did you know, Mom? Did you know what his plan was for me? Do you have any idea what it’s like to have your dad tell you that he . . . that he . . .” I can’t bring myself to say it, but the fear showing in her wide eyes tells me she knew. “He’s come for me.”

Her hand grips at her throat and her face pales. She leans to the side, squinting at something behind me. She wants to avoid what I’m saying. No, not this time.

I get right in her face and point. “You did this to me. Why? You ruined my life. I wish you never had me!”

Her eyes glisten before they drop to her lap.

“That’s enough!” Mark grabs my arm and pulls hard.

Unfazed by Marks tightening grip, I intend on expelling the ugly until they throw me out. “Do you hear me, whore? I wish I was never born!”

“Get your motherfucking hands off her,” a low, but authoritative rumble demands from my back.

Mark’s eyes move to a towering figure behind me before he releases his hand. I don’t have to turn around to know my savior as his strong arms wrap around my waist.

The sound of Jonah’s voice and comfort of his touch trigger a sob from deep in my chest. He’s here. Thank God. I lean into his embrace. I don’t know how much he heard, but his presence reminds me of what I have and dulls the ache of what I never will.

“I’ve got you, baby. Let me take you home.”

Home.

Jonah is my home now. He’s the only one who ever cared enough to fight for me. He’s my family. All that matters now is us.

Jonah turns me in his arms. I bury my face in his chest, and let the emotions overtake me. His soothing words are nothing but background noise to my uncontrollable sobs.

He walks us from the restaurant and back to our waiting limo. The tears begin to dry as I’m placed into the privacy of the car. I’m a mess of nerves, anger, and hurt as verbal vomit flows from my lips like a sorority girl on induction night. Sobs break with roaring words of devastation as twenty-one years of pain finally find release.

Jonah’s eyes are wide, watching me kick and scream, throwing out every curse word that comes to mind. I’m not fully aware of what I’m saying, but Jonah flinches as the once foreign words tumble from my lips with ease.

Seconds turn into minutes before my heart rate slows and my muscles relax. Exhaustion sets in. Jonah slides to my side, wrapping me in his arms.

“You finished?” His question is tender and laced with meaning.

Finished crying? Finished with my mom? Finished fighting my future?

Nodding my head into his neck, he holds me tighter.

“I should’ve gone with you. I never should’ve let you leave after that shit with Camille.” He sounds angry with himself, but none of what happened tonight is his fault.

A new wave of anger flickers at the mention of her name, but there’s no fuel left to ignite it. I sink deeper into his embrace.

“Taylor wanted me to be seen in public with her to promote the Female MMA League. I told him I wouldn’t do it, but I guess she didn’t like taking no for an answer.” His lips press against the top of my head. “Don’t think she’ll be hearing no from Blake.”

Camille up against Blake. She doesn’t stand