Rampant (Condemned Book 2)

by Gemma James

  “The sheriff isn’t my biggest fan, Alex. He’s got everyone around here believing I’m a threat. I doubt he’ll hear you out.”

  “Then I want to talk to him. This isn’t just about turning Zach in. I want to clear your name too.”

  Overturning a prison sentence wasn’t going to happen by filing a police report, but I didn’t want to disappoint her. “I’m not even sure which law enforcement agency holds jurisdiction. Zach kidnapped you from the island, crossed county lines, and you ended up in a hospital near Mt. Hood.”

  “The police don’t know he took me from your island, Rafe. I told them I pushed my car into the river before going to that cabin on my own.”

  “He held you in a cabin?”

  “An isolated place in the middle of nowhere. I wouldn’t even know how to get there. He said it belonged to a friend.”

  I cursed under my breath. “So what are we going to say then?”

  Her brows furrowed in thought. “The truth with a few alterations. I’ll tell them Zach kidnapped me. You drugged me, so I have no memory of you and Jax pushing my car into the river. I’ll blame that on him too.”

  “I drugged you?”

  “When you took me,” she said quietly.

  “And here you are sitting next to me in a fucking car.” I shook my head, unable to grasp how she could use the word “safe” and my name in the same sentence. “What will you tell them when they ask why you’re spending time with your convicted rapist?”

  “The truth. You’re innocent. I lied eight years ago, under the threat of Zach, and I came to you because I’m scared and want to make this right.” She bit her lip and gazed out the window at the small-town businesses lining the main drag. I didn’t agree with her about the innocence part, not in relation to the past few weeks, but I let it go for now. No good would come from arguing the point to death. Neither of us said a word until I pulled into the parking lot of the sheriff’s department.

  “You ready?” I asked.

  With a nod, she pulled on the passenger door handle. I got out, rounded the car, and without thinking I placed my hand on the small of her back. We entered the brick building and found it deserted, save for the deputy manning the front window. I didn’t recognize him, so I assumed he’d come to Dante’s Pass after I left. I’d blown out of town before my graduation cap had time to hit the ground.

  “I need to report a crime,” she told the guy on the other side of the glass. I hung back, marveling at her strength as she told the deputy about the nature of the crime she wanted to report. He took her information before rising to get the sheriff.

  Minutes later, a side door opened and Lyle appeared, the deputy on his heels. His gaze blasted me, and the scowl twisting his features made me want to yank Alex out of there immediately. But his expression softened when he asked if she was comfortable giving her statement to him.

  She told him she was okay with that, then turned to give me a tiny reassuring smile. “I’ll be back.”

  I wanted to go with her. I wanted to grab her and never let go, but I understood her need to do this on her own. They disappeared behind the door, and the deputy resumed his spot behind the window, his attention captured by a crossword puzzle.

  I knocked on the glass. “I need to make a call. If she comes back before I do, let her know I’m right outside, okay?”

  He waved me off without raising his head. What a prick. I withdrew my cell as I exited, and a strong breeze carrying the familiar scent of fresh water and a hint of fish rustled my hair. Scrolling to Jax’s name in my contact list, I pushed the call button and waited for him to answer, all the while searching the area. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted overheard, but I needed something fast and my instincts told me he could get it for me.

  “What’s up?” he answered.

  I darted my gaze around the parking lot once more, satisfied that I was completely alone. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “Depends.”

  “I need a gun.”

  “Come again?”

  “You heard me. Can you get one?”

  “Well, yeah, but why? What’s going on?”

  “It’s Alex. She showed up on the island today. I don’t wanna go into details, but she’s scared. I need a weapon.”

  “Whoa…you need to back up there. What the fuck is going on?”

  I sighed in exasperation. “Her brother is psychotic. He’s the one who shot me, Jax. Can you get me a gun or not?”

  “Are you gonna use it to protect yourself or her?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What does it matter?”

  “You’re doing it for her then.”

  Not a question. “So what if I am?” I shot back, tiring of his inquisition. “If you don’t wanna do it, just say so. I’ll find someone else.” Though Jax was the only one I trusted even marginally with this. I was a felon. If I went down for getting my hands on a gun, well that would be tragically ironic.

  And dangerous because Alex would be left on her own.

  “You sure she’s worth it?”

  “Why do you hate her?” I asked, the disdain in his voice bothering me.

  “I don’t hate her.” He lowered his confrontational tone by a few degrees. “You did, for the three years we shared a cell.”

  “There’s a reason she did what she did.” I kicked a rock and watched it ricochet off a bright blue curb. “She’s trying to make it right, and she’s fucking terrified, Jax. I won’t stand by and do nothing.”

  He sighed. “You wouldn’t be you if you did. Saving people is your MO.”

  I glance around again, tapping my foot. “So you’ll get it for me?”

  He didn’t say anything at first, and I thought I heard him let loose a curse. “Yeah, I’ll get you what you need. Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll get it to you tonight.”

  The boat ride back to the island broke the final straw of my sanity. I collapsed onto the couch, tightened into a ball in the corner, and clung to the false shield of numbness protecting me. What a ridiculous illusion, the idea of safety.

  Maybe my father was right in threatening to have me committed, because I sank into the term “crazy” with a vengeance, especially after Jax showed up and gave Rafe a gun.

  Three days had passed since that night, and I still didn’t remember breaking down with much clarity. I had vague recollections of wailing and clawing at Rafe and Jax when they tried to calm me, but I couldn’t remember what had gone through my head, though something had triggered the episode. At first, I thought it was Jax’s presence, but later that evening, when Rafe tucked the gun underneath his pillow on the couch, it hit me.

  The image of Zach shooting Rafe wouldn’t leave me alone. I saw it when I stared into nothingness, when I showered, when I slept.

  Reporting Zach’s crimes hadn’t helped. The sheriff had patiently listened while I told him the changed version of my story, but I wasn’t sure he believed me. And whatever he’d said to Rafe afterward had sparked his fury. He’d pulled me from the station, a shaky mass of anger, and had threatened to go to the media if they didn’t do something about Zach.

  We probably should have gone to Portland, but Portland was where my brother was…unless he was here in Dante’s Pass, stalking me. I pictured him camped out somewhere near the island where he could watch the cabin with his relentless hazel gaze, noting when the lights shut off every night.

  I cranked my head and peeked through the windows in the living room with single-minded focus, wondering if he was ogling me now through a pair of binoculars.

  Fucking paranoid, Alex.

  Zach would have to be high up in the hills on the other side of the river to even spot the cabin, much less see inside it.

  “What’s on your mind?” Rafe spooned me, one hand smoothing over my stomach underneath the T-shirt I wore, as if he could wipe away Zach’s carving with his touch. The TV cast a dim glow in the room, though the volume had been turned so low, I strained to catch the real life horrors broadcasting thr
ough the screen. We’d been cuddling like this on the couch for the past hour after dinner.

  Rafe wouldn’t kiss me, and he never touched me like he used to—with demanding hands that didn’t seek permission, with fiery passion that scorched me. I craved that side of him like a starved junkie, but I didn’t know how to tell him, and he didn’t remember the days we’d spent together, so I settled for what I could get. Stolen hours with him on the sofa each night before we went our separate ways to sleep. He cooked for me, worried about me, but always kept a distance that seemed insurmountable.

  “You keep looking out the windows,” he said at my continued silence. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “I’m worried he’s watching.”

  “He can’t see in here, Alex.”

  “Logically, I know that.” I untangled from his arms and walked right up to the glass. Peering into the blackness, I willed my heartbeat to slow. He wasn’t out there. If I kept telling myself that, maybe I’d believe it. “You think the police are looking for him?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I called the detective in Portland today.” His footsteps vibrated the hardwood beneath my bare feet, and his body warmed my back. “They’re on it, Alex. Lyle might be an ass wipe, but he did his job.”

  “Do you think Zach got spooked? Maybe that’s why he hasn’t shown up.” I was scared to hope for it.

  “Or maybe he knows better. I won’t let him hurt you again.”

  I turned around. “Have you remembered anything yet?”

  “No.” He settled his hands on my shoulders, dipped his head, and his lips lingered near mine. “Nothing’s coming back.”

  “You’re so different this way,” I whispered. He was more like…the guy I remembered from eight years ago.

  “Am I really?” He pulled away. “Because when I think of you down in that cellar, I’m ashamed of myself.”

  The memory of that place called, like a siren’s seductive song. Did he feel it too? The allure of the cellar had been silently summoning me since I’d first arrived on the island. So far, I’d been too much of a wuss to go down there, to soak up the place where Rafe first showed me his darkness…the place where he helped me embrace mine. Our twisted romance began down there.

  A shiver went through me. On one hand, I’d been through hell in that dank, cold space, but on the other, experiencing his touch for the first time as a woman had been intoxicating.

  “You’ve thought of me down there?”

  “I’ve tried to remember,” he said, though he avoided my eyes.

  The uncertainty in his mannerisms unnerved me. He seemed so lost, as if a huge part of him had gone missing, and in a way it had. “Do you want to remember?”

  “Of course I want to remember.” He rubbed a hand down his face, but he didn’t wipe the fear from his expression. His mask had cracked, leaving behind a fissure where the broken man peeked through.

  I tugged on his hand, impulse driving me. “Come down there with me.”

  His feet didn’t budge. “Absolutely not.”

  God, he looked terrified. We both had demons to face in that cellar. Slowly, I slid my fingers from his. “Fine. I’ll go down by myself, and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes.”

  “Alex—”

  The loud thud of my steps on hardwood drowned out the rest of his words. I yanked the door open, entered the dark space, and jumped when it slammed shut behind me. I felt along the concrete, heart pounding, and searched for the light switch in the blackness. My palm brushed it, and a moment later dim light flooded the room. With a sigh of relief, I descended the stairs. The cold penetrated first, then the scent of dirt, musty dampness, and concrete—a combination my mind equated with captivity. Instinct alone made me wander to the cage.

  Everything crashed back with the strength of a tsunami. Naked, cowering in the corner, trembling from the cold, terrified because I hadn’t known what Rafe was capable of. I folded my arms around myself, as if to ward off the memories and the chill in the air.

  But I was safe. On the most fundamental level, my body knew that. It also responded in a way that used to make me loathe myself.

  Not anymore. Not when it came to Rafe.

  My gaze zeroed in on the cuffs dangling from the ceiling and warmth flooded between my thighs. He’d left the door to the prison open. I entered, this time of my own free will, and stripped the clothes from my body. Goose bumps broke out on my flesh, and my nipples tightened into aching buds. I lifted my head and eyed the cuffs again, noting how he’d left them unlocked. They spoke to me, whispering to slip my wrists inside and close the metal on my free will.

  He’d probably think I was insane, and maybe I was, but something told me this would bring him back to me. I stood on tiptoes and worked one wrist into the circular restraint. The lock clicked in place, making my pulse speed up. After some maneuvering, I managed to secure my other wrist too.

  There was no going back. I’d effectively trapped myself, leaving the decision of freeing me up to him. Suddenly, my stomach dropped. What if he didn’t remember where he kept the key? I didn’t have time to agonize over that too-late realization. The door creaked open and his footfalls announced his arrival. The instant he saw me, he froze.

  I hung before him, naked, exposed, wrists bound as effectively as my heart was to him.

  “Please tell me you know where the key is?”

  “If I had to guess,” he said, taking a step closer, “it’s on my keyring.” He gestured toward me. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You know all my secrets, all my shame.” I glanced at the cement floor, remembering how I’d awakened, naked and cold, with my hands restrained to the bars. “This is where you first brought me. You wanted to make me suffer the way you did. But we shared something, Rafe, and I want that back so badly.” I shut my eyes, disturbed by the utter shock in his.

  “I don’t remember.” I heard him come closer.

  “I have faith you will.” A tear slipped from beneath my closed lids, and the brush of his thumb caught it. I sucked in a breath. “I crave your touch so much. Please…make his disappear.”

  He grazed his fingers across my breasts. “He hurt you.” His words came out strangled. He inched lower, hands drifting over the evidence of my brother’s brutality, and smoothed a palm along my stomach, where Zach had branded me with his name. “And though I don’t remember it, I hurt you too.”

  “Rafe—”

  “Look at me,” he interrupted.

  I opened my eyes, and my insides melted from the heat in his. His palms cradled my cheeks with a tenderness that masked his need to conquer. He might not recognize the hunger in himself, but I did. That need colored the command in his tone, was evident in the wide stance of his feet and the bulge behind his zipper.

  My heartbeat rocketed. What if he remembered and went back to hating me? “Please don’t hate—”

  He silenced me with his mouth, his unyielding hands holding my head in place as his lips forced mine open, tongue thrusting in gentle possession that claimed, commanded, owned. My lids shuttered, and I lost myself to his taste. His kiss infused me with a raging, burning need. An explosion went off at my core, spreading from my belly down to my thighs, all the way to the soles of my feet. I spread them and gained better traction on the ground. Cool air drifted between my legs, where I ached for him—for his touch, for his hot mouth kissing so intimately, for the girth of his cock.

  He inched away, breaths puffing across my swollen lips. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

  My heart jumped at the endearment, and my lashes fluttered open. “You remember,” I whispered, both fear and hope warring in my soul.

  “No.” His thumbs caressed my damp cheeks. “I don’t need to remember to know that I want you.” His brows narrowed, and he frowned. “It’s the way I want you that worries me.”

  “Tell me.”

  He hesitated. “I’ve had fantasies for a long time.” His gaze lifted to my restrained hands. “Dark fantasies I never thought I’d act
on. I don’t know what I did to you, or what that place did to me, but it scares the fuck out of me.”

  “You don’t have to be afraid.”

  He stepped back and took in my nakedness with a single glance. “We’ve always orbited each other,” he said, pausing with a shake of his head, “but I never imagined it would lead to…this.”

  “Never imagined we’d be so right for each other? Rafe, you already know how I feel about you.”

  “You had a crush on me.”

  “Is that how you saw me back then? Just an annoying kid?”

  “At first, maybe.” His green eyes flickered to my face again. “I felt it too. I won’t deny it, but I’ve got eight years of memory missing, and you’ve been…so fucking scarred by Zach and me, I don’t understand how you’re standing on two feet right now.”

  “Technically, I’m on my toes.”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “You surprise me. Your strength inspires me, Alex.”

  “Don’t mistake me for being strong.” Nighttime always hit hard, when the dark wee hours of morning choked me with loneliness. The scars on my body didn’t compare to the ones no one could see, though I felt them each night, pressing on my chest until I couldn’t breathe. “I’m here in shackles because I’m not strong.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I need you. I’m sick with needing you.” I cursed my trembling lips. “No matter what you do, no matter what you remember or don’t, I’m yours.”

  He groaned. “Even if I keep you strung up like that?”

  “You’ve done it before, for hours in the dark. Naked, just like I am now.”

  “Why did I do that?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Punishment.”

  “What the hell did you do to deserve that?”

  Hurt pinged through me at the thought of him making me eat off the floor. But that happened before he’d known the truth. I regretted not telling him sooner. “I threw a tantrum.” More like a plate of food.