Rampant (Condemned Book 2)

by Gemma James

  “People here talk,” I said, thinking of the icy reception I’d received from the townsfolk—some who’d known me since I was a kid. “Regardless of lipstick malfunctions.”

  “No need to give them more fodder.” Nikki withdrew her hand. “I think you’re decent now.”

  The corner of my mouth curled up. “You and I both know I’m far from decent. The last memory I have of you proves that.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Seattle.” I raised my brows.

  She ducked her head, an unmistakable flush coloring her cheeks. “I remember Seattle.”

  “What happened between us while I was locked up?”

  “Let’s not get into all of that.” She descended the steps, and apparently that thread of conversation was off the table.

  I followed, close on her heels. “How about we start with you and the sheriff then? Lyle Lewis, Nikki?”

  “We already had this conversation.”

  “Except I don’t remember that conversation.”

  “Your brother and Jax say you’re pushing too hard. They’re worried you’re going to make the amnesia worse.”

  Once we reached the bottom, I grabbed her hand and pulled her around. “You’ve been talking to them about me?”

  “I’ve been doing the bookkeeping at the vineyard. Your condition came up.”

  “It’s not a fucking condition, Nik. It’s not like I’m crazy. I’m still me.”

  “Language and all,” she muttered, disentangling from my grip. She strode ahead several paces and gravel crunched under our feet until we reached the paved shoulder of the road.

  “Are you and Jax friends?”

  “I barely know him, but I guess you could say that.”

  “Like you and I are friends?” I shook my head. “Were friends.”

  She stopped and turned, hands on her hips. “We still are, Rafe. There’s too much history between us.” Her defensive stance eased. “I can’t imagine ever just walking away.”

  I reached out and tugged on her arm, bringing her against my chest. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and I stiffened under her touch. Though I no longer needed the sling, my shoulder still ached.

  “Nikki…” I licked my lips, tantalized by the thought of losing myself in her, and I almost forgot she was eight years older from the last time I saw her. The last time I fucked her. I tilted my head, closing the distance between us, and moved in for a taste of something I hoped would bring back a spark of sanity to my life.

  She gripped my shirt. “What are you—?”

  “Shut up and fucking kiss me.”

  Nikki stared at me for a few seconds that beat in my head like a gavel. She deliberated, indecision warring on her face—in the squint of her brown eyes, the downturn of her lips. All at once, she met me halfway, open-mouthed and as far from shy as I remembered. Her tongue thrashed with mine, trying to get the upper hand until she gave in. She always gave in. I gripped her hips, pulled her into the hard ridge of my jeans, and the whimper that escaped her throat told me all I needed to know.

  I could conquer her right now, in broad daylight as the occasional car rolled past, and she’d let me. I lowered my zipper, pushed up the flirty skirt that hugged her ass too tightly, and wound her strong legs around my waist. We swayed for a moment, both hanging on until we regained balance. I was a moment away from tugging her panties to the side and thrusting into her, except something about this didn’t feel right—beside the fact it was an insane, irresponsible public display of indecency. In my gut, it felt like a betrayal to someone else.

  Our mouths disconnected, and her legs slid down my jeans slowly. My chest rose and fell in rapid succession, matching the movement of hers. I wiped the sweat from my brow and returned her perplexed gaze.

  “I’m sorry.” I gestured to the ring on her finger. “You’re engaged, and I’m…” I paused long enough to yank up my zipper. “Really fucked up in the head.”

  She smoothed her hair, patted down her skirt, and stood up straighter. “You’re not the only one. I kissed you back.”

  “I guess we have unresolved issues,” I said, waving a hand between us.

  “Our issues were forgotten a long time ago.”

  “Nothing seemed forgotten when I had your legs wrapped around me. Except for the last eight fucking years of my life, that is. What happened to us?”

  “You went to prison!” She stumbled back, still fidgeting with her clothing. “That’s what happened. Doing this again, it’s too painful.”

  “Doing what?”

  Angling her head downward, she tried to hide her sorrow. “I’m glad you don’t remember, Rafe. That place did something to you.”

  “I can’t stand the blankness.” I pointed to my head. “There’s nothing here and it’s driving me insane. I’m imagining all sorts of things. How could I have gone away for that?” I swallowed hard. “Do you believe I did it? Did I do it? Please, just tell me.”

  She covered her trembling mouth with a hand and shook her head.

  “You do, don’t you? You believe I raped her.”

  “No!” She closed her eyes. “I’ve never doubted your innocence. I just…can’t. You shut me out eight years ago and I refuse to open myself up to that again.”

  “Nikki—”

  “No, you need to hear me. When you got out and came back home, I wasn’t sure I’d survive it. But then we talked, and I put up the biggest front of my life. You didn’t even blink. It was obvious you’d moved on from us, and you definitely didn’t kiss me. I tried to let you go, Rafe. But seeing you now, it’s like seeing the man you were before those bars closed on you. What happens when you remember?”

  “I don’t know, Nik, but being with you is the only thing that feels…normal.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t be your crutch. You’re just turning to me because you’re scared.”

  “Who says I’m scared?”

  “Please. I know fear when I see it.” She jumped into motion and stalked past me in the direction of her house. As she climbed the stairs, I stood on the side of the road feeling like an idiot who couldn’t break an old habit.

  Fuck it. I went after her, feet pounding the ground as I covered the distance. I bolted up the staircase and shot out a foot to keep the door from closing at the last second.

  “We’re not done.”

  “Move your foot.”

  “No!” I shoved the door until it gave. Feeling like a Neanderthal, I forced my way into her foyer. She could run from me in public, but not here in her own home. “All I’m asking for is—”

  She wasn’t alone.

  Jax stood in the middle of her living room, barefoot, his mural of tats disappearing from view as he pulled a shirt over his chest. His jeans hung open in the front. It wasn’t his state of undress that bothered me as much as the guilty expression on his face.

  Zach’s psychological warfare took a toll on my entire being. I often lost hours while he forced my body and spirit into an uncontrollable pleasure zone. Maybe I’d retain a small amount of sanity if my memory would only disappear into that dark hole.

  But it didn’t. I always recalled the total mind-fuck he put me through daily. Time soared past, as if it had wings, and while on the ecstasy, I not only believed I had wings, but I used them to fly. It was ironic, really. Zach drugged me because he thought doing so would bring me back to him, but when I was high, I fell into an alternate reality where Rafe was still alive for a few precious hours.

  The crash back to Earth never failed to gut me. I stared at the waterfall in horror, unable to stop shuddering. Thick foliage protected us from discovery, but that rush of water, toppling over rocks and crashing below, threatened to pull me into its depths. The thought was irrational, yet every bone in my body believed the lie—the facade my phobia enforced.

  It wasn’t that long ago that Zach had laid me near the ledge, lifting the skirt of my dress up past my breasts. I’d been so high on his reality-altering cocktail, I’d opened my mou
th to catch the spray misting down on us, unmindful of the threat that existed only a few feet away as he’d hunched between my spread thighs and feasted.

  Again, some sick and twisted part of my psyche had believed it was Rafe. Maybe it was my subconscious tricking me in order to cope. All that remained was shame. Sadness. Sorrow that ran so deep, my muscles ached with it. I tried to hide my pathetic state from Zach, knowing how my tears pissed him off. He expected the old me—the girl who clenched her jaw and took his cock like a trooper—not this blubbering, serotonin-depleted shell of myself who pretended he was another man to keep from wanting to slit my wrists.

  But the pain in my soul wouldn’t stop overflowing from my eyes, and incurring his wrath was an inevitability.

  “Time to snap the fuck out of it!” He lifted me from behind, arms winding around my waist, and carried me down the steep path to the water’s edge. I kicked and screamed, nearly causing him to lose his balance on the way.

  “No!” I shrieked. “You can’t do this! Stop!” My shouting came out as sputters once he dumped me in the shallow part. I clawed my way to the rocky shore, hands and knees sinking into slimy dirt. My heart beat so fast, it caused a physical ache in my chest. Little by little, I scrambled away from the water, as if it called to the dark place in my mind that tempted me to sink into the depths and die.

  For an instant, I considered it.

  As I sprawled onto the rocks, Zach grabbed my wet hair, bringing me back from the perilous idea of death. He yanked my neck back until I gazed at him instead of the waterhole. “The moping is gonna stop. I gave you ecstasy so we could get beyond the bullshit, not so you could turn into a depressed zombie while straight. I’ve had to force you out of bed for the last three days. Enough is enough, Lex.” He let me go and threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know what to do. You’re fucking sexy as hell when high, but you want nothing to do with me otherwise.”

  “What do you expect? You’re drugging me all the time. I can’t cope like this.” I shoved my hair out of my burning eyes and hoped the water dripping down my face hid the tears.

  “I just want you back.”

  “You never had me!”

  “I did.” He clenched his teeth, and tension spiraled off him in currents. “I had you. You can lie to me and to yourself, but you loved me.”

  “You killed Rafe! I could never love you. Never.”

  “Your precious boy toy isn’t dead.” Zach scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I had to know if he lived or not, so I went to Dante’s Pass yesterday.” He crouched in front of me, tilting his head. “You know what I found, Lex? I saw him strolling through town without a care in the world. Didn’t take him long to wind up on the doorstep of Nikki Malone. Remember her? I guess old habits die hard.”

  I shook my head, refusing to let hope rush in.

  “It’s true, so you can let go of the guilt and blame game because he survived.” Zach stood again and gestured to the vast wilderness that enclosed us in hell. “But where is he now, huh?”

  My heart leapt, despite knowing better. “Don’t mess with my head like that. You’re lying.”

  “It’s the truth. He’s not coming for you. Why would he? He has Nikki to keep his dick occupied. For fuck’s sake, you sent him to prison. Do you honestly think he’d love you after you had him locked up?”

  My sobs escaped in gasping, pathetic hiccups. I struggled to my knees and gripped my midsection, unable to catch my breath as the echo of his words struck me in the gut with sharp-edged truth.

  Zach knelt down and held my face in his hands. “I love you. No matter what. No matter how much you say you hate me or try to push me away, I love you. Always.”

  “You hurt me.”

  “You used to like pain.”

  With tears streaming down my face, I saw Zach in a warped light, blurred from the product of my sorrow. He believed every word he’d said. An image surfaced, a blip in time in which I saw him as my brother, the boy I remembered from what seemed like a different lifetime. The brother who would do anything to make me feel better. But that boy was gone. Not a facet of his innocence remained. A chill spread over me, and goose bumps broke out on every inch of flesh.

  “Just because my body is fucked up, that doesn’t mean I love you.”

  His hands slipped from my face. He stood, brows narrowed as he glared down at me. “He will never love you like I do. Never.”

  “You’re right. He won’t. But I’ll never love you like I do him.”

  It took four of them to hold me down, my cheek pressed to the gritty cement. The biggest and meanest straddled my thighs, his rough hands spreading my ass cheeks as he worked his cock between them. I tried to buck him off. His laughter gave him away; he was enjoying the struggle. More laughter sounded, deeper, gruffer, but it didn’t come from the assholes doing this. No, it came from the assholes allowing this to happen. The scent of tobacco blanketed the shower room, wafting in the air so thickly, I nearly choked.

  No choking. No sound. I’d fight, but they wouldn’t drag a plea from me. I gritted my teeth, pulled against the vise grip of the other three pricks restraining me, and closed my eyes as a scorching burn ignited in my rectum…

  I shot up in bed, my hands fisting the sweat-drenched sheets. With a shudder, I let a breath out and fell against the headboard. The same nightmare had plagued me for the last four nights, but I didn’t want to analyze it. I wanted to forget every fucking detail. I pulled deep breaths into my lungs and waited for the pounding thud of my heartbeat to slow, to stop hammering at my throat. Flinging the damp, gnarled sheet to the side, I slipped from bed and padded across the loft bedroom to the stairs that lowered to the first floor.

  Two things beckoned me: a bottle of vodka I’d found stashed away in the back of a cupboard, and the smoking gun in the cellar—the cage. Landing on the bottom step, I glanced around the empty living room.

  Jax hadn’t been back since I’d caught him with Nikki, and I hadn’t stuck around to hear their explanations.

  Absently, I grabbed the stashed vodka, unscrewed the lid, and took a drink straight from the bottle. Darkness blanketed the cabin, as not a single bulb highlighted the shadows. I didn’t feel inclined to turn on a lamp. The darkness called to me, the unassuming companionship it offered. Quiet solitude didn’t pester me about my state of mind like my brother’s phone calls did. It didn’t ask if I remembered anything. But it also didn’t tell me shit. That damn cage in the cellar might, if I could only force my brain to cooperate.

  I swayed for an instant and did a double take at the bottle. Who knew vodka could go down so well. As I stumbled a path to the cellar door, I kicked myself for turning to alcohol. Booze only numbed the problem temporarily, and it turned smart people into fucked up stupid people. I pulled the door open and took an unsteady jaunt down the stairs, then came to a stop in front of the evidence I wanted so badly to deny.

  Maybe you should take a peek in the cellar.

  Jax’s words from last week echoed through the space between my ears. I stared at the cage, my mind trapped inside, a prisoner to the unknown as I willed it to impart the things my brain refused to remember.

  When Jax told me about my eight-year prison sentence, I’d had a difficult time believing him. When he’d told me about Alex’s accusation, that had been even harder to accept. But the bigger part of myself, the part that was still stuck in the past by eight years, was horrified by what he claimed I’d done. To Alex.

  I still remembered her as this too-tempting not-so-innocent girl that liked to play with my head. Alex and her jade come-hither gaze that never failed to burrow beneath my skin like a first degree burn. Constantly flirting, teasing, driving me fucked up crazy.

  It might have been nothing more than a schoolgirl’s crush, but underneath the flirting, I sensed she’d cared about me. I had no idea why. I was a ticking time bomb with too much pent up anger. Fighting was the only thing that gave me relief. If I psychoanalyzed myself long enough, I’d probably find an insecure lit
tle boy with abandonment issues. Just another statistic who’s mommy left when he was too young. And the deviant sexual appetite…well fuck, I was shot to hell once I added that into the mix. If I was this fucked up now…back then…shit this was confusing, then how badly had eight years of prison messed me up?

  I glared at the cage, but it continued to engage me in a silent standoff. I lifted the vodka and took another swig. Maybe the alcohol would facilitate my traitorous psyche. Those bars would tell me the secrets they held, tell me how I could have turned into the kind of man who would kidnap a woman and lock her inside.

  Not just any woman. Alex…who still hadn’t emerged. If I’d let her go, as Jax speculated, then where was she? Had I tortured her so badly that she’d put a bullet in me and left me for dead? Was she hiding somewhere, terrified I’d find her and bring her back to the island?

  And finally, it clicked. The island, water…fuck. I really had tormented her.

  “Tell me why I did it,” I said, raising a hand menacingly, finger pointing in accusation at the prison. I tipped the bottle back and chugged. Jax said I’d wanted revenge. I didn’t buy it. If I’d truly wanted retribution or comeuppance, there were other ways. I could have dug until I proved my innocence. I could have unleashed public humiliation on her.

  Or maybe I’d been guilty all along.

  I might not remember taking and locking her inside that homemade prison, but deep down I knew why I’d done it. I’d taken her because I’d wanted to. My hand fell, no longer accusing metal and concrete of unspoken sins, and drifted to the front of my tented boxers.

  Closing my eyes, I imagined her helpless behind those bars, her arms pulled above her head tightly, painfully, feet arching as she tried to balance on her toes. Creamy, round breasts, perfect nipples erect, waiting to be punished. Her mouth spread wide with a gag, and my belt secure around her throat. Tight and inescapable.