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

in the fireplace. My eyes scour the area. No sign of Raven.

With my back to the wall, I slide to the next window. It’s frosted glass, probably a bathroom. I press my ear to it. Nothing.

In a few more steps, I’m at the back of the cabin. Blake is just rounding the opposite corner. We meet at a single window, our backs against the wall on either side. The low vibration of angry voices rumbles against the glass, but the words are indecipherable. With a nod, we glance inside.

“Holy shit,” Blake whispers through clenched teeth.

It’s dark in the room, but light from the open door is enough to illuminate the scene. Vince and Dominick surround a small bed. They’re hunched over, like vultures picking away at their prey. I don’t have to see who they’re holding down to know who it is.

Adrenaline shoots through my body, injected by a rocket launcher. The roar of my pulse pounds between my ears. An instinct to kill rushes down my spine, juicing up my muscles. My skin vibrates with lethal energy.

Get the fuck off her!

I need to draw them away, redirect their attention. I grab my gun, point it at the assholes. No. I can’t risk hitting Raven.

With a flip of my hand, I use the gun’s butt, and smash the window. Glass shatters, cutting through the silence and causing Dominick and Vince to spin around.

“Well, fuck. I guess it’s on now.” Blake’s words ring from behind me as I race to the front door.

I kick it open. The walls rattle.

Pop.

Light flashes. I stumble back. Pain explodes in my shoulder and down my arm. I blink, pushing against the nausea and agony that threatens to take me down. The fucker shot me.

“Shit. You okay?” Blake’s question is nothing more than static to my main concern.

Where is she?

I scan dimly lit room, blinking away the floaters from the flash of gunfire. Standing at the mouth of the hallway is Dominick and Vince. Both with guns raised. Vince’s is smoking.

“No, Jonah!” Raven’s voice comes from the hallway. Thank God, she’s alive.

The confirmation sends renewed strength to my mind and muscles.

I straighten from my tortured huddle, sucking air through my teeth. Fuck, this hurts. Then point my gun with my good arm. “Let her go, Dominick.” My voice sounds stronger than I feel.

“You broke into my home, Mr. Slade. I could kill you right here, in cold blood, and get away with it.” Dominick’s voice cracks with anger or frustration. I’m not sure.

“Dominick, please don’t.” Raven’s appeal ends on a whimper.

Is she hurt? I search in her direction, but can’t make her out in the dim light. She’s blocked in the hallway behind the bulk of the dicklicks who brought her here.

“Not true, asshole. In order to get away with it, you’d have to stay alive. And I can promise you, if I go down, so will you.” My aim is steady, head clear. I breathe deep and heavy, working past the pain.

“Well, we can put that to the test, although, I’d rather not have to deal with hiding dead bodies tonight.” Dominick’s tone sounds genuinely put off.

“Cut the bullshit.” I step closer, making sure to speak slowly so he understands. “I will not leave this place without her.”

His lips curl back over his teeth. “Oh, but you will. We made a bet. You lost.”

Waves of failure wash over me. “You had no intention of letting her go, did you? If I’d lost the fight, you’d just walk away?”

A chuckle rumbles from deep in his chest. “Brains and brawn. Impressive. And here I thought you were just a dumb jock.”

I fucking knew it. This guy plays by his own rules. I can’t believe I fell for it.

My injured arm moves on its own accord to steady my aim. “You’re de—” Dammit. Pain blazes at my shoulder.

Vince snorts with laughter. “Not so strong now, are ya? You may have taken me down in a surprise attack at the club, but I dare you to come at me now.”

Blake pulls a large hunting knife from the back of his pants. He spins it in his hand before he takes a fighting stance. He gives me a quick chin lift and focuses on the men across the room.

“Let me go.” Raven pushes at her captors, trying to get past.

My blood screams to get to her, to throw her over my shoulder and kill anyone who stands in my way. It’s my only option. I move. Dominick yanks her to his front, his gun at her head. I stop mid-stride.

“Not one more step, Slade.” His gun is pressing against her temple, her head turned away from the weapon, eyes screwed shut. Her chest heaves with heavy breaths or possible hysteria.

I push the urge to kill down deep. Right now, I need to make sure she’s unharmed.

“Baby?” I need to see her eyes, read in her expression that they didn’t hurt her. They better not have hurt her. “Baby, look at me.”

My gun is on Dominick. His on her. Vince’s moves back and forth between Blake and me.

“Jonah . . .” Desperation laces through my name as her words trail off. She blinks open her eyes and turns toward me.

Her stare is wild, the aquamarine almost glowing against their red rims. A large, bleeding gash cuts through her eyebrow. White-hot fury explodes deep in my chest. Visions of what could cause that kind of wound flash before my eyes. None of them good. I mentally shake away the possibilities of what would’ve happened if we hadn’t gotten here when we did. Going rat-shit crazy won’t help anyone and may jeopardize her safety. I need to focus on keeping her safe.

I lock eyes with her, hoping to God she sees something there that makes her listen. This shit is about to get ugly, and I need her as far away from it as possible.

“Baby, are you hurt? Anywhere besides your head?”

She shakes no. “I want to go home. Jonah . . .”