by Jo Raven
He isn’t happy about it. He grumbles and tries to shove Asher aside, but not too hard. I think he’s also scared of what we might find. Afraid of what his mind is capable of doing when faced with something reminding him of his past, stripping his control and throwing him kicking and screaming back into the nightmare.
“There are steps,” I tell Rafe, and he’s already trying them with his biker boot, testing. “Think they’ll hold?”
“They’ll hold,” he says and starts going down, turning in the last moment to look up at me, his golden eyes bright. “Give me the flashlight and stick with me. It’s kind of a long way down.”
Isn’t it always?
***
All I can see is the shadow that is Rafe descending below me, the thin beam of the flashlight dancing in the dark. The steps creak under our feet. Not concrete but metal, and I pray that I’m not about to put my foot through a hole and break my leg.
But Rafe is right there, turning to catch me when I reach the end of the staircase, steadying me. He grabs my hand and flashes the light around us. It’s a big space with a strong smell of wet and mold with something foul lacing it.
Something like urine and shit and rotting meat.
I flinch, glad for Rafe’s big hand around mine. “Do you see anything?”
He says nothing, turning the flashlight in a circle. Shadows seem to flit around the basement, and something rustles along one wall.
Rats?
“Guys?” That’s Asher, calling from up the trapdoor. “See anything?”
“Not yet!” I call back.
“Shh.” Rafe squeezes my hand.
Another rustle.
I turn away from him, and I swear something big has just scuttled behind some stacked crates. A squeal leaves my lips before I can stop it.
“Oh shit. Oh shit.” I’m squeezing the hell out of Rafe’s fingers, just like I did as I gave birth to our son, and like then, he just lets me. “I saw something.”
“What?” He turns, lifts the flashlight. The ray of light hits a pale mass quivering in a corner—and before I can comprehend what I’m seeing, something knocks into us, dropping us to the floor.
“Help!” I yell as my hands hit the slick concrete, leaving skin, the impact jarring my spine, and Rafe leans over me in a protective gesture. “Guys!”
After that, it’s all a blur. There’s noise behind us as the guys come down the stairs, and the thing that bowled us over snarls.
An animal, I keep thinking, my mind stuck on a loop. A wild animal, reeking of sweat and blood, maybe a big cat. A puma.
Then the guys are right here, and there’s scuffling and fighting around us, and someone is screaming. The flashlights throw haphazard shapes against boxes and metal shelves and trash and… and people.
Kids, I realize after a long moment of lying dazed on the floor, staring. Kids. Teenagers, dressed in rags, their eyes huge as they are rounded up.
Tyler hauls a struggling kid in front of us, gripping him by the shreds of his shirt. The boy—it’s a boy, I think—flails at him with bony arms and legs, his shaggy blond hair hiding his face.
Holy shit.
I should have expected it. After all, it’s what we were afraid we’d find. But seeing them is such a shock to my system I’m not sure I can breathe.
Dirty, thin, pale, bloodied. Cringing from the light, clinging to each other desperately, huddling on the filthy floor.
“You all right?” Rafe whispers, gently hauling me to my feet. “Meg?”
“I’m fine,” I say, my lips feeling numb. My eyes burn. “Don’t let… don’t let Zane see them.”
“Too late,” Rafe says grimly as he steadies me, pulling me to his side. “Did you hurt yourself?”
“No.” My palms feel sticky, which means I probably scratched them good, but I don’t feel any pain. Can’t feel anything. “What are we going to do?”
“Tessa is calling the police.”
Of course. The police. An ambulance. I can’t think straight.
Rafe’s rough hands come to rest on my cold cheeks. “These boys will be okay, Meg. We’ll help them. Trust me.”
I nod, a sob escaping me. I think of Zay, our baby, and shiver. Need to hold him, make sure he’s okay. That he’s not suffering like these kids.
“We’ll go get him in a minute,” he says.
Oh God, did I speak my fears out loud?
I’m not going to break apart over this. If anything, I should be taking care of the others. Of these kids. Of Zane. Of…
“Where is Audrey?” I grab his hands and push to my feet. “Aud?”
I see her hanging back, on the stairs, a protective hand over her tummy. Good, I think vaguely. I’m glad she stayed back.
Rafe kisses me, a quick, bruising kiss. “Here, take the flashlight and check on her. I’ll check on Zane.”
It’s a deal, I think, and go to her. She looks as shell-shocked as I feel.
“God, Meg,” she whispers, her eyes shiny with tears. “What is this? It’s like we’ve gone down into hell.”
Maybe we have. “Let’s just sit here until the police arrive.”
We sit on the frigid metal steps, holding hands. Asher and Rafe are talking to Zane who’s shaking so badly I can see it from here. Dakota is tugging on his arm.
The others are standing around the kids, hiding them from sight. They’re discussing something. Tessa and Erin are crouched down, but I can’t tell what’s going on.
“Have you seen them?” Audrey’s voice trembles. “The kids?”
I shake my head. “Just a glimpse.”
“How bad is it? Are they… are they hurt? Oh God…”
“Aud.” I rub her back in circles. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I want to see them.”
I want to tell her no. That she’ll distress herself more. That it isn’t good for the baby. But I think the worst shock is over. Now we need to process this, to see it, absorb it, understand it.
So I pull her to her feet, and we cross to the group of our friends. Asher turns, sees us, and starts toward us. He wraps an arm around Audrey’s waist, and she lets go of my hand to cling to him.
She’s in good hands, so I leave them whispering to each other and glance at Rafe who’s still talking to Zane and Dakota, then back at the tight group around the kids, stepping behind the crouched forms of Erin and Tessa.
And there they are. I count five of them. Probably boys, though it’s hard to tell under the grime and shaggy hair. They’re all wearing dirty pants and sweaters, but the cold in the basement is damp and makes my bones ache.
“It’s okay,” Tessa is telling the nearest kid, keeping her hands open in front of her. “We won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”
The kid draws back from her, dark eyes wide, leaning into another kid with pale blond hair who’s scratching at a sore on his cheek.
“We’re here to help you,” Erin says, and then, “Guys, maybe you should step back.”
How long have they been prisoners here?
How long since Kenneth Shaw gave them water and food?
How long since he last hurt them? Because he did. It’s in the way they move, in the blood spattering their clothes, in the way they flinch whenever one of us moves or speaks.
“I hear something. I think the police are here,” Tyler says and steps back. “I’m gonna go out, show them the way.”
What will happen to these kids? After they’re washed and their wounds are treated, after they’ve had a good meal in them and a psychologist has evaluated them… where will they go? Into foster care?
Or do they have families somewhere looking for them? Did they go missing, like Tyrese Weir?
Rafe comes to stand beside me, silent. He catches my hand, laces our fingers together. “Hey.”
“How’s Zane?”
He shakes his head. “Not sure where he is in his mind right now. Not really here.”
I swallow hard. “He’ll come back. The police will catch the guy, a
nd we can put this behind us.”
Except for the kids.
How can we leave them behind?
Rafe seems to read my mind. “Feels like they’re our responsibility. We found them. They suffered like Zane has. Feels like they’re ours to protect.”
“Yeah.” I nod, because I feel it, too. “They’re ours.”
***
The lights on all the police cars are on, bathing the house and the yard in light. A few neighbors have come out to the street to gawk at the commotion.
The EMTs are waiting outside the ambulance parked across the street, while the police are trying to talk to the kids. They’ve also offered them bottled water, which seems to have broken the ice a little.
I look at the five of them, wrapped in thermal blankets, how they’re sticking close together, a tight group of fear and distrust.
Rafe hauls me into his arms, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Our work here is done. We should go pick up our son.”
“But we can’t leave them alone!” I pull back, turn to look at the kids again. My chest is so tight it hurts to breathe.
“They don’t know us yet.” Rafe takes my hands, then frowns down at them. “We need to get these scratches cleaned up.”
I tug them away. “Later. The kids, Rafe.”
He smiles, his dimples deepening, his eyes turning to flaming gold. “Suddenly we have more kids than one.”
“Yeah.” I laugh softly. “I mean, I just want to help them.”
“I know, babe.” He’s still smiling, a full, bright smile that lights up his gaze.
“You look so… happy. After all this, after finding the kids, with Zane in such bad shape… Why?”
“Sorry.” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets. “It seems to me… we found the end of the thread. Of the maze. Haven’t reached our happy ending yet, but we’re close, I can feel it.”
“You have the feeling everything will be all right from now on?”
He nods. “We’ll have to see how to help these kids, and make sure Kenneth Shaw lands in a prison so deep in the ground he never sees the light ever again. But meanwhile… we’ll start to mend. To heal.”
I rub my arms, suddenly feeling the cold, the pain in my scratched hands and elbows, the painful hammering of my heart against my ribs. “You’ve been so stressed because of this.”
“I had a lot of things on my mind. The Damage Control expansion, our collaboration with Soul Stain, the gym and training the guys, which I’ve neglected lately. The wedding coming up… and of course Zane, and Kenneth Shaw. And you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” He gives me a rueful smile. “Having a baby before you were ready for it. This fear you had that something would happen. I’ve been damn worried and you know it.”
Christ. I hadn’t known, in fact. Didn’t realize he’d been so concerned about me. I thought I’d shown him how happy I was to have his baby.
“Listen.” I pull his hands out of his pockets to hold them as I look him in the eye. “I’m not afraid anymore. Haven’t been in a while. Not when I have you by my side. When I have our friends. I know our baby will grow up safe and surrounded with love.”
“You telling me the truth?” He searches my face for clues.
“Yes. I’m so happy with you and our baby. So stop worrying about me.” I lift his hands, kiss his knuckles. “Stop worrying so much, Rafe. You can’t fix everything.”
“I know.” He nods, his gaze going distant. “I keep telling myself that. That I shouldn’t worry about not training the guys regularly, that they can take care of themselves. That I shouldn’t wonder what happened to Colt, the guy I met in the illegal fight club, the one who helped me find my father’s killer. He’d been looking for a girl, and sometimes I think… that I should have done more for him. Or not. That it’s time I got over the guilt over my family’s death and moved on.”
“And can you?” I wait breathless for his reply.
“I can try,” he whispers. “If you’re happy, and Zane is safe, then… then I can try.
***
After picking up our son from a rather tired-looking Seth, we head home. Zay is asleep the moment we drive away from Damage Control, and he doesn’t even wake up when Rafe lifts him out of the car seat and carries him up to the apartment.
I unlock and follow Rafe inside where he lays Zay in his crib and covers him up with his blue blanket.
Then he turns around and picks me up, swinging me up in his strong arms.
“Rafe!” I hiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and trying not to squeal as he carries me into our bedroom. I squirm, bolts of heat spearing through my center.
Can’t deny that it’s hot when he takes control like this.
When he lowers me to the bed, I don’t let go of him. I tug him down to me and he comes willingly, covering my body with his. I need him. I want him.
To hell with not being sure, with waiting longer.
I kiss him, sliding my hands down his arms, gripping his taut biceps, lifting my hips. Needing to feel him.
“What do you want?” he whispers against my lips, his breathing harsh, and I feel him hardening against me.
“You.” I spread my legs wider, feeling my skirt bunching up around my hips, and his hard-on is a branding iron pressed to my seam. “Please…”
He grunts, crushing his mouth to mine, the kiss brutal and deep and searing. Yes. I pull him against me, closer, falling into the kiss, loving the way his big, strong body weighs on top of mine, the way his hand clutches the back of my head and keeps me in place while he uses his tongue to find and stroke every sensitive spot in my mouth.
Just when I think I’ll come just from being kissed and the feel of his hard cock pressed between my legs, he pulls back, breaking the kiss and drawing a ragged breath.
His golden eyes hold me still, the heat in them a tangible thing as he drops them to my breasts. “Meg…”
“God, I want you.” I scratch at his shirt, needing it off. “Take me.”
He all but tears my clothes to shreds after that. He hauls my blouse off, drags down the straps of my bra until my breasts are bare, and he bends his head to them, sucking on them, hard. It’s good, it’s perfect, and I want more. My hips lift restlessly.
“Take off your clothes,” I whisper. “Take them off.”
He growls against my nipple, making me shudder, then he sits back and whips his shirt off in one movement. I hear fabric tear, buttons tinkle where they fall to the floor. He undoes the clasp of his belt and the leather whispers as he pulls it through the loops of his jeans.
Then he’s pushing those down, toeing off his boots, his socks, everything, and he kneels between my legs, naked and gorgeous, his cock so hard it makes my mouth water.
“What now?” he rasps, his gaze dark with lust, his small nipples bunched up. His cock bobs against his flat stomach, the piercings glinting.
Licking my lips, I unclasp my bra and take it off, then wiggle out of my skirt. My shoes thump to the floor, and I swallow hard when his gaze trails down between my legs, where I’m exposed and wet for him.
He doesn’t ask anything, doesn’t speak. He moves over me, every movement sure and powerful, like a golden lion stalking his prey. His cock drags over my body, leaving a hot, wet trail, as he attacks my mouth again, eating at my lips, his tongue thrusting between my lips, making me tremble with desire.
“I wanna fuck you so badly,” he groans against my mouth, and I pant, running my hands over his muscular body. “Fill you up. Make you come so hard.”
“God, yes.” I love it, how his polite manners are forgotten, his need stripped raw for me to see.
Reaching between his legs, he grips his cock and pushes into me, a groan rumbling up his chest. I gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he breaches me, the wide head of his cock stretching me. His thumb flicks over my clit, and the stretching sensation turns into pure pleasure.
I moan as I open up, and he slides in deep, so deep I can’t bre
athe.
He doesn’t wait for me to adjust. Instead, he massages my clit as he starts to move, braced with one hand on the mattress, the thick muscles in his thighs bunching and releasing, his mouth inches from mine.
I gaze up at his beautiful face, at the desire in his expression, and lift one leg to wrap around his thigh. That deepens the angle, and we both gasp.
He bends lower, brushing his mouth over mine, as he thrusts faster, harder. The pleasure inside me is sharpening, clawing at me, needing an outlet. I rock my hips with his thrusts, moaning his name, so close to coming I feel it start deep in my belly. My pussy clenches around his thickness, and I arch up against him, my mouth falling open, my mind hazing over as pleasure sparkles deep inside me.
His lips press to mine, his mouth sealing in my cries as I come undone, exploding like a firework, losing myself in the feel of him.
“God, Meg…” He tenses, shaking over me, his cock jerking where I’m clenching, and I moan when his hot cum hits the deepest part of me. “Fuck, yeah…”
So good. Why did I wait so long to let him back inside me? I clutch at him, still floating on pleasure. He grows heavier on me as his orgasm ebbs, and he pulls out slowly, grunting as he rolls off me.
“Love you so much,” he whispers, pulling me into his arms. His eyes are golden slits as he tries to catch his breath, gazing down at me. “You don’t know how much.”
“I love you, too,” I say. “You’re my favorite man. My one love. I want you happy.”
“I am happy. With you.” He hauls me against his chest and whispers against my hair, “never been happier in my life.”
I let myself get lost in his hold, basking in his love.
We’ll figure everything out, one step at a time. Everything is going to be fine, I just know it. As long as we’re together.
Part V
Zane and Dakota
I’ll Find You (Never Lose Hope)
Chapter Twenty Eight
Zane
My back fucking hurts, the pain clawing at my insides. There’s a hand pressed over my mouth, cutting off my breath. Darkness seeps into my vision.
