“Then, I’ll work my way to Guy and your mother.”
Numbness moves up my arms and legs to my abdomen.
“And last, but not least,” his voice carries a sing-song tone, “I’ll end with that Neanderthal you’ve been living with, Jonah.”
The final blow.
Heart, mind, and soul. Numb.
I’m no longer crying as my body and mind assimilate information. His words spin in my head over and over like a tilt-a-whirl: breed, hooker, everyone I love.
The predicament hits me like a hurricane. In danger of passing out, I grip the arms of my chair. This isn’t happening. I lean forward and put my head between my knees, hoping to gather my bearings.
“This is Las Vegas, darling. You know how easy it would be to make someone disappear? Bury them in a dirt hole out in the desert? Although, I won’t make it quick, I’ll have my fun with them first.”
“Stop, please. Just please . . . stop.” I rock back and forth, my hands fisted in my hair. I hear a low keening sound, and realize it’s coming from my mouth. I pinch my eyes closed tight, praying to wake up from this nightmare.
And here I thought he might want to know me. That maybe he missed the daughter he never knew. How could I be so stupid?
“Why now? Why not when I turned eighteen?” My voice is pleading and desperate for answers.
“In my business, it’s important the girls are of legal drinking age. This helps to avoid unwanted attention from the local authorities. But more importantly, I needed leverage. You’re quite the loner, darling: never had a boyfriend, very few friends. I had Guy and Eve, but they weren’t enough. Once you starting practically living with the Slade boy, it was time.” He straightens his cuffs and twists their links. His gaze swings to mine. “Do you love him?”
I roll my lips into my mouth, refusing to answer him.
“Ah, yes. And it seems you’re still a virgin as well.”
From behind me, Vince muffles his laugh. Mortification and anger mix, igniting my face in a furious blush. I’m appalled that he could speak so freely with his own flesh and blood.
“Don’t look so shocked. Sex is my business. I can tell by your blush you still retain your innocence. That will work well for me and my business.”
Bile burns my throat. I wish I had eaten so I could vomit all over Dominick’s pretentious Oriental rug. I hate him for what he’s proposing and for what he did to my mom. I want to pounce on him and fight like a maniac. Adrenaline fills my body as I contemplate the risks involved with taking him on here in his office.
Is today a good day to die?
He leans forward, resting both elbows on his desk. His eyes bore into mine, making me recoil.
“Raven, if you fight me, I’ll shoot so much her**n in your arm, you won’t know what day it is. I’ll keep you so addicted you’ll be begging for it. You’ll live out your days on a street corner, sucking off frat boys for twenty bucks a pop. You come peacefully and be a good girl, you’ll have a life very similar to that of your mother. I suppose I could make it even better, seeing as you are my daughter.”
“I’m not your daughter!”
He looks down his nose, studying me like a piece of art he’s considering buying. “No, I suppose you’re not. More like the product of a perfectly executed experiment.”
“I would rather die a slow, painful death than work for you.” My hands are wrapped so tightly around the arms of the chair that my palms burn.
“Well,” he sits back, checking out what I assume to be freshly manicured nails, “that, too, can be arranged,” he hisses with contempt.
A defeated whimper bursts from my lips. The horrific sound confirms my lack of options. I don’t have an out.
“So you agree? The day after your twenty-first birthday, I’ll send for you.”
“I thought . . .” My whispered words aren’t meant to be heard.
“You thought what, darling?”
I look up from my lap and stare at the man who’s just ripped my heart out and stomped on it for sport. “I hate you.”
A slow smile stretches across his face. “Very well. I’ve always been a sucker for a challenge.”
I have no memory of how I got back in my car. I don’t remember walking, but I don’t believe I was carried. All I know is I’m sitting in the valet driveway, stone still, staring straight ahead, wondering where to go and what to do.
And just like that, right when my life starts looking beautiful, it disappears like a mirage in the desert.
Jonah
“Aw fuck, not again!” Blake throws his arms into the air, and stomps to the bench.
Two o’clock. No missed calls. Shit.
Something’s not right.
I’ve checked my phone every thirty minutes for the last three hours, and still no word from Raven. I agreed to let her go meet with Dominick alone this morning, even when everything in me was screaming it was a big mistake.
“I’m done for the day,” I call out to whoever’s listening, not bothering to look up from checking for text messages.
“Good. You haven’t really been here anyway. You got that fuckin’ phone stuck up your ass when we’re supposed to be training.”
Usually I would jump all over Blake and his attitude. Not now.
I lean against the octagon chain link and try her cell. Straight to voicemail. My team files out and toward the locker room, each one grumbling.
Owen lingers, his eyes on me. “Yo, Jonah. You all right, man?”
“Huh?” I look up from my phone into the concerned eyes of Owen then back and hit send. “Oh, yeah. Fine.”
“What’s going on? You’re preoccupied. Everything okay with Raven?”
Just hearing her name makes me break out in a panic-induced sweat.
“Um . . . I don’t know. She met with her dad today, and they don’t really get along. I haven’t heard from her. I’m worried.”
“Oh, that’s it? I’m sure she’s fine, probably just got to talking and reminiscing about old times. I mean how bad can he be that—”
“It’s Dominick Morretti.”
Owen’s easy demeanor disappears as his dark skin drains of color. We lock eyes. Yeah, now he gets it. Everyone knows Dominick Morretti would walk over the dead bodies of his own children to get to a dollar.
“Let’s go.” Owen’s storms from the octagon.
“Wait! Where are we going?”
He doesn’t slow his pace. “We’re gonna find her. I say we check her place first.”
“I’ll grab my keys.”
***
We pull up to Guy’s Garage and I see Raven’s car in the lot. Thank you, God. I pop my head into the garage and ask Guy if he’s seen her. He tells me she showed up a few hours ago but went straight to her place saying she wasn’t feeling well.
My feet move like they’re on fire to the alley. I jump up the stairs, taking three at a time. My fist pounds on the door as adrenaline courses through my veins. I need to see that my girl is okay.
“Raven, baby, you there? It’s me. Open up.”
Nothing.
I knock again.
“Open up, Raven!”
Nothing.
Panic surges and the buzz at the base of my neck shoots to my brain, clouding rational thinking.
“Raven! Open the f**king door!”
I’m about to flip the switch and rip this piece of shit door down with my bare hands, when a firm hand on my shoulder directs me to step aside. Owen is there and he takes my place.
“Princess, it’s Owen. You don’t open up this door, I’m gonna kick it down. We need to get to you.”
Nothing.
Shit! I’m in full freak-out mode. I know Owen feels it rolling off me in waves by the way his eyes dart from my fisted hands to my clenched jaw. I roll my head around on my neck, preparing to bust open the door. Owen takes one step back.
Boom!
Splintering wood flies all around us, the result of Owen’s front kick. He steps in and pushes aside the flimsy door that hangs lopsided from its hinges. I push past him and into the studio.
I stop short upon entering and hold my breath. In the middle of her bed, curled up in the fetal position, is Raven. I’d think she was sleeping if not for her soft guttural moans.
Seeing her so broken sobers the raging beast in my head. I go to her and climb in behind her, my front to her back. Wrapping my arms around her tiny body, I bury my face in her hair.
“Baby. Shh, it’s okay. I’m here now.”
Her body goes solid for a second or two before it’s wracking with sobs. Her cries of anguish make me hold tighter as if I can somehow take her pain away by the sheer strength in my arms.
“Raven? Shh, it’s going to be okay. I’m here. You’re safe. I love you, baby. Come back to me.”
My eyes start to burn. The pain in her cries is tangible, making the air thick and hard to breathe.
“What happened? Talk to me.”
I kiss her tenderly and encourage her to turn and face me. She does, but only to bury herself in my chest and cry harder. The sight of her tear-streaked face and red-rimmed eyes make me downright homicidal. From the looks of it, she’s been crying for a while.
I’m going to kill that motherfucker!
I don’t know how long I lay there with Raven in my arms. Her breathing evens out, and she takes a long shaky breath.
“It’s over.” Her voice is quiet and devoid of emotion. “My life, no matter what happens, is over.”
“What do you mean?” I smooth my hand through her hair. “Your life isn’t over.”
She pushes herself up on the bed. I look to the door and see no sign of Owen.
“What happened?” My voice is sharp with worry. I fight the roaring in my head and focus on keeping my cool. “What did he do to you?”
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and something crunches under my feet. It’s a broken picture frame. In the mess of glass and shattered wood is the picture of Raven’s mom.
What the hell is going on?
I pull Raven into my lap, and she curls into my body like she was made to be there.
Then, she starts to talk.
Fourteen
Raven
My head throbs as I blink open my swollen eyes. The room is dark except for the dim light that shines through the window. It’s evening. I roll from my side onto my back and know instantly that I’m in Jonah’s bed. My hand reaches for him, but the cool sheets tell me he’s not there. He brought me here after I’d cried myself dry in his arms, snuggled in tight to the safety and warmth of his touch, holding me as if I’d float away if he didn’t ground me.
Thoughts of Dominick invade my mind, like an army hell bent on eradicating my hope. Shame and embarrassment strangle any pride I have left. I bury my face in the pillow, pressing in deep, robbing myself of oxygen and welcoming the ache in my lungs. The life I’d built for myself, friends, Jonah, all of it was erased in less than an hour. I’m chained to the ugliness, caged in a nightmare with no chance of escape.
I become a prostitute, or everyone I love dies.
I turn my head and gasp for air, sucking the life-giving oxygen into my lungs. Rubbing my eyes, I try to erase the memories of the pain I saw in Jonah’s face. He told me we’d figure it out, that, together, we’d come up with something. Impossible.