by Gemma James
“Don’t let me come.”
“You need to.”
“No.”
He pulled on my hair, bringing us face-to-face again. “Who’s in charge of your orgasms?”
“You are.”
“Then come for me.” His fingers traced the seam of my mouth before dipping inside, leaving his salty taste on my tongue. “Don’t let him take this from us.”
The hot sensation of our joined bodies won out, and I let my eyes drift shut, submitting to the urge to just feel.
“Babe, look at me.” Slipping his fingers from between my lips, he palmed my cheek as I lifted my lids. “Stay with me.” His plea held a raspy edge that zapped straight to my core, and God, it felt so fucking good when he was inside me like this.
I was tempted to pinch myself, to make sure I was actually here and not back on the island enslaved to Zach.
“He said I’d never feel you like this again.”
“He can’t hurt you anymore. I’m here, Alex. I’m with you every step of the way.”
A shudder born of trauma, heartache, and ecstasy roiled through me, and I claimed his mouth, needing that intimate connection as I allowed the heat between us to combust. I contracted around his cock, my orgasm seizing my limbs for several long and blissful seconds I hoped would never end.
For a while, I thought they wouldn’t. The waves were endless, toe-curling, soul-consuming. Rafe followed on the tail end of the first crest, arching up to meet me as our unbridled cries vibrated in the tangle of tongues.
18. Home Sweet Home
Rafe
The shift in Alex’s demeanor on the way home was gradual, becoming more pronounced the closer we got to Dante’s Pass. I left the SUV in the parking lot at the boat launch site, like Jax instructed, and found my boat docked in the small marina where he said it would be.
Considering how quiet Alex had been since hitting Interstate 84, I wasn’t sure how she’d handle crossing the river. She wasn’t as terrified of water like she used to be, and she even knew how to swim, but the phobia still existed under the surface, much like the craving for a strong drink sprang up from time to time for an alcoholic.
But she handled the ride across the Columbia River with a degree of stoicism that bordered on impressive, and that pushed the needle on my worry meter up another notch.
I remembered the despair in her voice and the hopelessness in her eyes as we fucked in the car, and the memory made me want to pound on something.
Or someone.
I hoped like hell Zach hadn’t broken her, but the true test lay ahead on a patch of land that had been renovated to give us the fresh start we’d hoped for.
Pulling up to the island’s private dock, I secured the boat before grabbing her hand. “Ready?”
She nodded, but I sensed all she didn’t say. There was no easy way to return to the trauma of this place, to face the remnants of horror, not to mention the real life monster in the cellar. That first step inside felt oddly normal. The cabin seemed undisturbed, everything in its place, until I tried ushering Alex upstairs.
“I can’t,” she said, digging in her heels. She wrenched her hand from mine and folded herself inside the safety of her own embrace, and I hated how she backed away, putting inches of space and emotional barriers between us. I glanced toward the ceiling, envisioning the loft bedroom and the ensuite bathroom, and wondered what kind of special hell Zach had put her through up there.
A huge part of me didn’t want to know, certain I couldn’t handle all the details, though I’d force them out of her eventually if she didn’t spill on her own accord.
“It’s okay. We’ll sleep on the couch tonight,” I said, directing her toward the bathroom on the main floor. “But we need a shower first.” She didn’t argue as I switched on the spray. Mud-caked jeans and blood-stained clothing dropped to the floor, and we stepped underneath the hot water.
Expression subdued, Alex traced the split in my lip and the discoloring on my cheekbone. “Does it hurt?”
“Not too bad.” I grabbed a bar of soap and worked up a lather in my hands before running my soapy palms over her body. She sighed as I turned her around and massaged her shoulders.
“Jax said it was a death match.”
“It was.”
The next few seconds stabbed at my conscience.
“So the other guy is…?”
“Dead.” The admission was a choked finality on my breath, void of absolution. “So is Shelton.”
“Rafe…” She whirled around and took my abused face between her hands. “You survived. Isn’t that what you told me?”
I blinked the spray of the shower from my lashes. “I did what I had to so Will could go home. Doesn’t mean I’m okay with taking another life, especially someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“But Shelton deserved it.”
“The guy I choked tonight in the cage didn’t.”
“You didn’t have a choice.”
“We all have choices, just like I made the choice to leave you here less than twenty-four-hours after I promised to love you forever.”
“Does that promise still hold true?”
“Of course it does, baby. But that doesn’t mean you should forgive—”
Her lips on mine shut me up, and her temptress fingers wrapping around my cock obliterated thought. Thrusting my tongue into her mouth, I groaned into the kiss as we stumbled across the stall to the opposite wall.
I gripped her by the ass and pushed into her as her legs tightened around me. Her cunt gloved me to madness, igniting a frenzy that rivaled our desperation in the SUV. I pumped into her violently, shoving her up the slick tile as the shower spray cocooned us in steam.
“I’m gonna come,” she gasped, severing our lips.
“Damn right you are.”
There was no guilt, no hesitation holding her hostage this time—she contracted around me, eyes squeezed shut as her lips parted in a breathless cry. I was pretty sure those sexy lips formed my name, and her surrender spawned my own release, pulling it from me with the strength of a wrench. My fingers dug into her skin, jerking her tight against me as I spilled inside her.
Afterward, we clung to each other, breathing hard, still joined as we came down from the intensity of the moment. Eventually, her legs slid from around my waist, and she planted her feet on the ground. I pushed her wet, tangled locks off of her forehead.
Words weren’t needed.
Not with the way she looked at me, eyes red from the tears she’d spilled, lids heavy from exhaustion. We finished washing up, then I wrapped her in a towel and carried her to the sofa. The hour was late, past three in the morning. She settled on one end and curled into a ball, falling asleep almost immediately. I grabbed a quilt from the linen closet, and she didn’t stir as I spread the blanket over her resting body.
Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her temple, and that’s when I remembered the gold chain around her neck. Gently lifting her, I worked the key over her head and pulled it over mine, where it belonged.
A trip upstairs revealed the disaster of our bedroom, and the rumpled sheets on our bed drew my eye, stirring my anger. The restraint system straps hung to the floor, a vision of mockery because I knew what they’d been used for.
Thank God I hadn’t forced her up here.
I grabbed the first pair of sleep pants I found and dressed before heading back downstairs. The kitchen held additional horrors. During the trip home, Alex told me what to expect near the breakfast nook, so I’d known there was a bloody mess to deal with, but knowing about it and seeing it were two very different things. I mopped up Zach’s downfall then made the bastard a sandwich, since he’d gone without food for two days, and I wouldn’t stoop to his level.
Not yet.
Not until I decided what to do with him.
Flipping the light on in the cellar, I found him sprawled on the cot inside the prison I’d designed for Alex. When I’d had that space built, I sure as fuck hadn’t intended for Za
ch to end up in it, wearing the shock collar I’d purchased as a last-resort idea to keep her safe, should she ever get fancy ideas in her head that would put her in danger.
Instead, I’d been the asshole to put her in danger, and I’d do everything in my power to make up for it for the rest of my life.
Zach stirred with a groan, and when he rolled over and faced me, I did a double-take. His date with Alex’s skillet, not to mention Jax’s fists, had done a real number on him. Matted blood covered the left side of his head, and his right eye was swollen shut.
Sauntering to the bars separating us, I tossed the plastic storage bag containing two PB&Js onto the concrete floor. “Wouldn’t want you to die from starvation.”
Though he deserved that and more.
Zach tumbled off the cot and crawled toward the food, his eyes flicking up to meet mine every couple of seconds.
“No thank-yous, huh?” I said as he began scarfing down the first sandwich.
“Don’t do me any fucking favors,” he mumbled, a scowl in his tone.
“I didn’t.” Returning his scowl, I clasped my hands at my back and stared down my nose at him. “Alex did. She turned the water back on before she left to come get me, which was more than you did for her. You’d be dead if she’d matched your sense of empathy.”
His attention veered behind me, and he didn’t have to voice the question.
“You think she wants to see you after everything you did?”
With a frown, he started in on the second PB&J. “She cares about me. Why else would she turn the water back on?”
“Did you care about the spiders you used to release outdoors?”
“I cared enough not to kill them.”
“Some people like to catch insects and put them in jars. That’s what you are right now—a bug in a jar.” A sadistic smile pulled at my lips. “Trapped and vulnerable to a kid with a magnifying glass and enough sunlight.”
“So you’re gonna torture me, is that it?”
“I’m not gonna do anything. I’ll leave your fate up to Alex.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Her choice might surprise you.” A hint of a smile twitched at his lips, and I wanted to wipe it off his face with my fist. I didn’t buy into his delusions for a second, but just the idea that he thought he could win her over after the hell he’d put her through—not just in the past several days but for years—sent rage rushing through my veins.
“Alex is stronger than you ever gave her credit for. I have no doubt she’ll make the right decision.”
It didn’t matter how much I knew deep in my gut that Alex despised this mother fucker—his smug certainty followed me upstairs, haunting every breath long after I shut off the light and slammed the door.
19. Twice the Loss
Rafe
Something vibrated against my hip, dragging me from sleep, and the absence of the warm body on the couch beside me was the first thing to register. Alex was nowhere in sight, but the hint of running water in the bathroom reached my ears. The thought that she felt the need to take another shower so soon sent an ache pinging through the chambers of my heart.
She could shower morning, noon, and night and still not wash this hellish experience from her being, and there was nothing I could do about that, no magic cure to be found that would heal her.
Only time would do that.
The buzzing sensation against my hip continued, and I retrieved the cell phone I’d gotten back from Alex last night. Jax’s face flashed across the screen.
With a swipe of my thumb, I answered the call. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Got the situation cleaned up,” he said without preamble as the distinctive whoosh of traffic sounded in the background. “No one will find a trace.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t mention it.” His nicotine habit was an audible exhale over the line. “Did you take care of Zach yet?”
“No,” I said, rising to my feet and stretching my calves. Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t my idea of a good night’s rest, but I wasn’t about to force Alex up those stairs our first night back. I wasn’t about to let her sleep alone either. “I’m still deciding what to do.”
“Look, man. I know I voted for prison last time, but he’s proven that’s a useless plan.”
“You think I should take him out?”
“I don’t think he’s given you a choice.”
“I agree. I’m hoping Alex is on the same page this time.”
“The way we found her…I’d be shocked to shit if she weren’t.” He let a beat pass, and muffled voices chatted in the background. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. I’ll come by in a few days to touch base.” The line went dead, and I wouldn’t expect anything else from Jax.
With a sigh, I set my cell on the sofa table on the way to the bathroom, figuring I’d join Alex in the shower. I’d almost reached the promise of hot water and my wife’s irresistible body when the doorbell rang. Changing direction, I questioned who the hell had the balls to show up on the island unannounced.
I pulled the door open, and the ground gave out from beneath me.
Will’s grandfather stood on the other side, looking as formidable as I remembered, though less so now that he was living the life of sobriety. He’d never liked me back when he lived in Dante’s Pass, and Nik and I had been tight. I was sure that held true now all these years later.
“What can I do for you, Nicholas?” Another man accompanied him, someone I didn’t recognize, and my gaze ping-ponged between the two.
He shifted, the motion drawing my eye to the manilla folder clutched in his hands. “I’m going to get straight to the point. I know you were involved in my grandson’s kidnapping.”
I forced my face into a neutral mask. Part of me had expected the fallout from this. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
He huffed.
Because we both knew exactly what he was talking about, and I could deny it all I wanted, but if Will identified me, it was game over.
He passed the folder to the man at his side, and the guy thrust it in my direction.
“You’ve been served,” the stranger said.
“What’s this?”
Nicholas cleared his throat. “A petition to terminate your parental rights.”
So he knew.
Of course he did, or he wouldn’t be here. I flipped through the court papers, noting the filing date. He’d had the documents drawn up a week before my wedding.
I glanced up and met his eyes—the same deep brown he’d passed down to Nik. “I didn’t have anything to do with his kidnapping.”
“So you don’t deny your knowledge of it.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement designed to corner me.
I didn’t answer. Lying to him was pointless and explaining just as useless, because he wouldn’t listen. If he wanted me in jail, he would have sent the cops. He was here because he wanted something else.
Me, out of Will’s life on a permanent, legal basis.
The thought formed a lump in my throat, and I swallowed to dislodge the ache. I’d walked away from Will knowing it was for the best.
For him, not for me.
His kidnapping had proven that I was unfit to be a father, too caught up in dangerous shit I feared would follow me until the day I died. This wasn’t an environment for a child.
And yet, the thought of signing away my son…
With a defeated sigh, I dragged a hand through my messy hair. “I haven’t had any contact with him. I walked away for his own good.”
“Look,” Nicholas said, crossing his arms, “I know what you did for Will. He didn’t want you to get into trouble, so don’t be angry at him.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Not much at first. He was tight-lipped, but he slipped up and mentioned your tattoos.”
That was one downside to inking one’s skin. I cursed under my breath. “Is he okay?”
“It’ll take some time, but he’ll reco
ver.”
I let out a breath. “I care about him.”
“I figured as much. I don’t know what the hell you did to have my grandson dragged into such a traumatic situation, but I know you got him out, and that’s why I’m willing to look the other way.”
The set of his jaw spelled the caveat.
“But only if I sign over my parental rights.”
“You said you already walked away. This is just putting that decision on paper.” He rubbed his chin. “My only concern is for Will’s well-being. With Nikki gone, he’s all I’ve got.”
“Just…give me a second.”
Letting the door inch shut behind me, I dragged both hands through my hair, tugging on the strands to the point of pain as I paced the foyer, mind tumbling end-over-end. Someday, Will would find out about me, and he’d wonder why I’d walked away. Putting it on paper seemed so much worse.
So fucking final.
His terrified face flashed in my head, the glint of metal at his throat. He’d had to go through that because of me.
Because of my shitty choices.
Letting out a long breath, I pulled the door open and found the two men right where I’d left them. “I won’t contest the petition.”
“You’re making the right decision, for Will’s sake.”
Throat too thick, all I could do was nod.
“Before I go, I need to ask.” He took a step in my direction, a hint of threat in that single footfall. “Is my grandson safe?”
The question reverberated through my conscience, and I hated that he even had to ask. “The problem’s been taken care of.”
“I’m glad to hear it, because if you put him in danger again, there won’t be a get-out-of-jail-free card next time.”
No acknowledgements were needed, and neither were additional words. Will’s grandfather and his companion walked away, and I closed and locked the door. Setting the documents on the table in the foyer, I felt the loss of what could have been square in the chest.
A dull ache I’d never be capable of displacing.
