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

across his chest, hangs his head, and blows out a frustrated breath. “I asked her who accepted his offer. She said she wasn’t sure, but that more than a few were interested.”

“So? I don’t give a shit what Dominick does. As long as he leaves Raven out of it.”

“The new girl told me she overheard a convo in the dressing room. Dominick’s hiring for a special job. One that takes place the night of the fight. At The Mandalay Bay Arena. You think that shit’s a coincidence?”

“Maybe he needs some fresh girls for all the high-rollers that’ll be hitting up the fight. Dominick has to know better than to fuck with me on fight night. I’m going to be making him a rich man.” Or, a richer man.

“I’ve got a really bad feeling about this,” Blake mumbles.

There’s nothing I can say. This whole situation sucks. The only thought that brings me peace is that, by Sunday, Raven will be all mine and we can move on with our lives. I rub my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose to soothe the throbbing headache this conversation brought on.

“Remind me when I decide to settle down to find a girl without baggage. Preferably one with no family.” He holds up his hand and starts ticking off fingers with each stipulation. “No kids, ex-husbands, psycho dads, fucking skeletons in the closet. None of that shit.”

“It’s gonna take a special girl to put up with your ass, Blake. You got no room to be picky.”

“I’m serious, man.” He points at the ground. “I’d rather stay single my entire life, banging anyone who can keep up, than take on some chick with issues. You can tattoo that on my ass if you don’t believe me.”

The serious mask on his face tightens into a scowl. “Oh, and thanks a lot for pushing that crazy bitch Camille on me last night. I got her in the elevator, just about to do her, and you know what she said?”

I shrug. I’m still pissed at that chick for upsetting Raven, but I have to give her credit for freaking Blake out.

“She said if I wanted to get up in there, I had to prove myself.” His voice pitches high. “She said I had to submit her to the ground before she’d let me fuck her. I’m looking to get off, and she wants jiu-jitsu foreplay. Who does that shit?”

Unable to hold it in a second longer, laughter bursts from my mouth.

“It’s not funny, man. It’s whacked. I had blue balls for two hours before Kerri, or whatever the fuck her name was, at the strip club got me off.”

“I can’t believe you couldn’t get a submission on a girl. Maybe they can open up a spot for you on their team. Teach you a thing or two.”

Blake’s look of disgust only makes me laugh harder.

“Oh, real nice. You’re a dick, you know that?” He stomps off and through the doors.

~*~

Raven

“So, Raven, tell me about your family. Does your mom live here in town?”

Water spews from my mouth. I choke and gasp for air.

“Oh, goodness, honey, are you okay?” Katherine hands me a dishtowel and pats me on the back.

She’s been busy making dinner and filling me in on Jonah’s milestones growing up. The subject change took me by surprise.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thank you. Just went down the wrong pipe.”

“You scared me.”

You think that scared you? Ask me again about my mom.

I’m not happy about opening the closet doors to my soul and revealing my dark secrets to the one person in the world I want to like me. But, I can’t lie to Jonah’s mom either. She’s going to find out eventually, and what will she think then? If I plan on being a part of Jonah’s life, I need to be honest, upfront. What’s that saying? The truth will set you free. More like the truth will keep you single.

She’s cutting vegetables, oblivious to the fact that I’m about to drop a bomb directly on to her sweet head. Maybe she’ll forget if I change the subject.

“So, you were telling me about your parents?”

Too late.

I’ll talk around it. That will give her enough to be satisfied, and I won’t have to tell her the ugly truth.

“My mom lives in town, yes, and so does my . . . um . . . my dad.” Saying the word makes me want to spit to clean out the dirty.

“Are they still married?” Her questions are so casual and every day. Nothing more than a little small talk with the girl who’s dating her son. Boy, is she in for a surprise.

Just get it over with! It’ll be easier that way.

I bite my lip, working up my nerve. “Uh, no, they were never, um, married.”

This sucks.

“Oh, that’s too bad. What do they do? For work?” Her eyes are fixed on the task before her, chopping and dumping into a bowl.

“My mom is in sales.” Please, let that be enough. My stomach churns. This already feels like a lie.

“What does she sell?

My shoulders slump in defeat. Might as well get it over with. I check the clock on the microwave. Jonah should be home soon. I wish he were here now.

“Herself. My mom is a call girl.”

Her chopping ceases and she turns toward me, the question burning in her eyes. “Call center girl?”

I scrub my face with my hand. “Call girl.”

Katherine’s knife drops on the counter with a clang. Her eyes are huge and her mouth moves, but no sound comes out.

I’m not finished yet. “Her pimp . . . well, he’s my . . . my uh . . . he got her pregnant.”

She adds head shaking to the list of silent responses.

“I don’t . . . or, um, never had a relationship with either of them.” I exhale a long breath.

There. I did it.

My teeth rake over my lower lip. I count the tiles on the floor. Silent seconds tick. I prepare for the speech about my being