Fighting for Flight by JB Salsbury (easy readers TXT) 📕

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.

Reaching over, I click on the lamp. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table along with two Tylenol. I grab the pills and toss them to the back of my dry mouth. I swallow against the sting in my aching throat as it draws my attention away from the pain in my heart. The glass drained, I push my legs over the side of the bed, giving my body a second to acclimate to being upright. I’m no longer wearing my jeans and shirt, but I’m in one of Jonah’s t-shirts. I pull the fabric to my nose and breathe in deep, his scent a reprieve to my anguish.

Tying my hair in a low knot, I head out to find Jonah. I freeze in the hallway at the sound of two male voices. Jonah’s voice is as recognizable as my own, but who is the other? I tiptoe closer and make the voice out to be Owen. Veiled in the shadows, I listen in.

“I have too much to lose. I can’t afford to lose everything.”

“Dude, I get that, I do. But just give it some time. You might find a way to figure something out.”

“What other choice do I have? I have to end this.”

“You’re going to hurt her.”

Silence, then, “I know.”

“I don’t like it, Jonah. She’s been through so much already. She’s not going to handle this well. You have to know that.” Silence. “All right, at least do it sooner than later. Like pulling off a Band-Aid, just get it over with.”

“Yeah, I will.”

My heart plummets into an icy black hole. It’s impossible to breathe past the constricting burn in my chest. I bend at the waist, hands on my knees, trying not to pass out. My head pounds with the beat of my racing heart. I pray that the numbing will come and ease the ache, but my body takes no prisoners as my stomach coils in agony. I lean my back against the wall, pressing my fingers to my sternum, as if I could physically push back the pain. The slight sting is on my cheeks from the tears I didn’t know I’d cried. Hearing about the pain of a broken heart doesn’t do justice to feeling the crippling devastation. This is a broken heart.

Of course, he’s leaving me. Why wouldn’t he? Everything he’s worked for his entire life is waiting for him. His career is taking off, the title fight only weeks away. That’s his priority.

The voice in my head reminds me of what I really am. I’m the daughter of a pimp and a hooker bred for a lifestyle of meaningless sex and money. It all makes sense now. My mother never saw me as her child . . . as a child at all. I’m nothing more than a prized animal—a product they can profit from. Who was I to think I could have a future with Jonah? My future is in that world, not his.

“Hey, how long have you been standing here?”

Long enough for you to destroy me. “Oh, um, I don’t know. Not long.” My voice sounds like it’s been trampled by a herd of buffalo.

He cups my face, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. His warm eyes and empathetic smile threaten to burst the floodgates, so I look past him.

“Baby, you’re crying.” He dries my tears with his thumbs.

I shrug and force my mouth into a smile.

“Come on. Let’s get you something to eat.”

He hugs me to his side and guides me into the kitchen. My muscles relax and my pulse slows, comforted by his touch. Apparently my traitorous body isn’t aware that Jonah’s done with us. Leaning down, he kisses tenderly his favorite spot on my neck then pulls back a fraction to my ear.

“I love you.” His warm breath combined with the power of his words make me tremble in his arms.

I finish his declaration with an unspoken, but we can’t be together. “I love you too.”

And I do. That’s why I don’t mention the conversation that I overheard. I know love doesn’t conquer all, that it’s not always enough. I know that Jonah has to look out for himself. He can’t afford to be wrapped up in my life, and part of me is at peace about that. I want him, but more than that, I want him to be happy—to have a life with a woman who can love him the way he deserves to be loved: a woman free from the ugliness of my reality.

“How you feelin’, princess?” Owen asks.

“I’ve been better.”

His dark eyes study mine. “Right. Well, I’m gonna take off.” He steps to me and tugs me from Jonah’s hold for a hug. His arms linger a little too long, making it feel like a long-term good-bye.

He releases me with a final squeeze. I don’t miss the look he gives Jonah or what it communicates. He’s not happy that Jonah’s breaking up with