Fighting for Flight by JB Salsbury (best books for students to read .txt) 📗

“No. You don’t lose. ‘The Assassin’ does not lose.” He grips my shoulders, pulling me to my feet.

Breathing deep, I force a nod. My skin feels tight surrounded by people in my space. I need to get out of here. I can’t think straight.

I need Raven. To touch her and remind myself that she’s real and . . . still here. Her birthday isn’t until tomorrow. We have a few hours to get out of town. Disappear. At least until we can come up with a better plan.

On a visceral quest, I push through the crowd. No faces, no familiarity, just bodies. Obstacles that stand between me and Raven.

At the octagon’s perimeter, I search the arena, scanning the crowd. Where is she?

A microphone is shoved in my face. “‘Assassin,’ how does it feel to be the new UFL Heavyweight Champion?”

“No questions.” Blake’s voice draws my attention. He tilts his head towards the octagon’s exit.

I scan the seats where Raven was sitting. People crowd around the octagon. Security pushes them back. My eyes pick apart each person, and, still, no Raven.

“Where is she?”

Blake grips the chain link, focused and scanning. “They’re gone. They were right there.” He points to the row of seats they were in just seconds before the fight ended.

My hands rake through my hair. No. This cannot be fucking happening. My aching muscles contract as my fists tighten. She couldn’t have gone far. I continue to scan the area, hoping her face will appear in the crowd. Still nothing. I’ll pick this entire place apart, one motherfucker at a time, until I find my girl.

“‘Assassin!’ Great fight! Can you tell us what it feels like to have won—”

Blake shoves the commentator in the chest, sending him back and landing ass to mat. “No fucking questions.” Blake towers over the downed reporter before turning back to me. “Shit.” He sounds annoyed as if the guy was nothing more than an obnoxious mosquito.

He looks over my shoulder.

“There’s your mom.” Blake’s voice rises above the roar of the crowd. I follow his stare.

She’s standing at the floor of the arena, on tiptoes, eyes searching. In a few long, purposeful strides I’m in her space.

“Mom, where’s Ra—”

“Oh, Joey, you were great! Congratu—” She moves to embrace me, but I catch her wrists, forcing her eyes to mine.

“Mom. Where’s Raven?”

Her smile falls and her eyebrows pinch together. “Raven? Honey, Candy took her back to your dressing room, just like you asked her to.”

Dread drops in my stomach, threatening to bring me to my knees.

“Fuck me. I knew that skanky-ass ho was up to no good,” Blake says from behind me.

Mom’s face pales and her eyes implore mine. “Jonah, what’s going on?”

I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. But I’m sure as shit going to find out.

My feet burn with unspent energy. I race up the stairs two at a time. Weaving my way through the crowd, I shove people aside when they don’t move fast enough. I burst through the double doors and run down the corridor to my dressing room. My foot hits the door with the force of a battering ram, splintering the wood frame.

“Raven. You in here?” I rush through the room in search of my girl. But even as my hopeful eyes continue their search, I know she’s gone. This was Dominick’s plan all along. Send Candy in for distraction and extraction. Like placing the last piece into a puzzle, everything now makes sense.

I flip the coffee table upside down. “Fuck!”

Raven is in the hands of a madman. My hands rip through my hair. I should have known Dominick would pull some backhanded shit. Now my girl is with a psycho who uses his own daughter as a pawn in his sick games.

Resolve burns deep in my chest. My heart pounds with intent. The buzz between my ears throbs and floods my body. My veins surge with revenge in lethal potency. A plan forms in my head. My lips curl as my teeth clench.

I’m going to get Raven back tonight. I don’t care who I have to kill to do it.

~*~

Raven

I float in a void, a black hole, tossed on waves of dark smoke. No feeling. Just . . . nothingness. A faint sound taunts me. Calling me to its comfort. I want to move towards it, but can’t grip consciousness enough to move.

An urgency to fight the dark fuels my blood. I push against the fade. The sound gets louder. The soothing vibrations tickle my ear as I try to place it. The sound is as familiar as my own name. I concentrate harder.

An engine. A small one, sedan maybe.

I push harder and hear a moan deep in the distance.

Is that me?

The engine is joined with the rhythmic beat of music. I strain to hear it and surface from the murky depths. Feeling returns to my body in sections of warmth like a hot towel lying on bare skin. I orient myself. I’m on my side. My eyelids are heavy as I push to get them open.

I wiggle my fingers and roll my wrists. They’re tied together. My mind struggles to place myself. I remember Katherine. My heart cramps. The fight. Jonah. The text. Candy.

Fucking Candy!

Adrenaline fuels my muscles and I force open my eyes. I’m in the backseat of a car. The driver is a man; that much I can tell from the back of his head. No other passengers. I swallow what feels like razor blades. How long have I been out? I clear my throat to speak, getting the attention of my driver. His head whips around and I muffle a scream.

“Good morning, sleepyhead. Have a good nap?” His wicked laugh crawls over my skin, making me curl into myself.

Facing forward, he tilts the rearview mirror, his eyes on me. They glow in the light of the dashboard. He looks demonic.

“Where—” I clear my throat. “Where are you taking me?”

His reflection glares at me. “We’re going on a little road trip.”

“What