by Gemma James
“I…” What if he’d forgotten for a reason? What if deep down, he didn’t want to know? “I don’t know what to say.”
He stood, pulling me with him, and led me to the chair. Though his hand pressed on my shoulder with a gentleness that surprised me, he made me lower into the seat. Some sick part of myself rejoiced in that. His odd behavior had unsettled me to my toes, his lack of imposing do-as-I-say presence. I wanted to wrap myself in it because it felt natural and familiar, and I needed that from him.
He tilted my chin up, and his mouth formed a hard line. “Who raped you?” Regardless of whether his psyche wanted to remain in the dark, some part of him still sought the truth, or he wouldn’t push for it.
“It was Zach.” I wasn’t about to repeat the same mistake. Whatever he wanted to know, I’d tell him.
His touch fell from my face, and I missed the contact instantly. “Did I know that? Before I lost my memory?”
“Yes.”
He let out a breath. “This is a lot for me to take in, Alex. I woke up in the hospital thinking I was twenty-one. The fight against Zach in Seattle is the last memory I have.” He clenched his jaw. “What happened the night I was shot?”
Suddenly, it dawned on me. He hadn’t come after me…not because he hadn’t cared but because he’d lost his memory. “Zach showed up. You guys fought, then you made me get into a boat.” I swallowed hard, but the memory of their last fight—the blast of the gun that still ricocheted in my head, even now—burned in my eyes and nose. “You tried to protect me, but he…he…”
“He shot me?”
I nodded, too choked up to speak.
He crouched in front of me, took my right arm in his hands, and ran his fingertips down the material hiding the ugly scars that had scabbed over. All I wanted was to throw myself at him and beg him to hold me, to never let go. I wanted to hide in his embrace forever. What an impossible, dangerous idea. Zach wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted…me.
“Is he in jail?”
I shook my head.
“Why the hell not?”
“Dad’s covering for him again.” I tucked my lip between my teeth. “He said Zach would leave me alone, but he cornered me in a restaurant today.”
Rafe pushed up my sleeve and caressed the wound I’d inflicted on myself. “Why did you come here? Why didn’t you go to the cops?”
“You make me feel safe.” I trembled under the warmth of his touch. “I don’t trust anyone else. Don’t make me leave.”
“I fucking kidnapped you, Alex. I might not remember the details, but I know that much. Jax filled me in, and I saw the prison in the cellar. How can you feel safe around me?”
“Because I’m as twisted as you are.”
“I think that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said.” His thumb rubbed over my scar. “Tell me what happened here.”
I shook my head, my brain refusing to go back to that cabin, even though I’d promised myself I’d tell him anything. “I can’t talk about it. Please don’t make me.”
“Make you?” He looked at me in confusion. “You keep using that word.”
“You’ve obviously forgotten the power you have over me.”
“Then tell me. I need to know what happened. All of it.”
“I can’t.”
“You can.” He tangled his fingers with mine. “Because we’re going to the police and they’ll need to hear it.”
I shook my head. “My father will have me committed. He’s got everyone thinking I’m crazy, that I tried to kill myself.”
“Did you?” His attention landed on my arms.
I studied our joined hands. “It’s not what you think. I tried to get away from Zach, but he kept me high on ecstasy half the time.” I blinked rapidly. “I convinced myself he was you, and…”
He squeezed my hand. “I’m listening.”
Turning my head, I gazed out the window at the cloudless sky, too ashamed to face him. “He snapped after I cried out your name.” I untangled our hands and slowly lifted my shirt.
Rafe stood, bringing my attention back to him. His jaw twitched and his green eyes went so dark, I was glad his anger wasn’t directed at me. “He did that to you?” Fury drenched his words, flooded the space between us with an oath of retribution.
Closing my eyes, I nodded. “Afterward, I…I lost my mind and locked myself in the bathroom, broke the mirror and…I just wanted him to stop.”
Without warning, he pulled me from the chair and into the shelter of his arms. One hand tangled in my hair as the other held me to his shaking body. “He’ll never hurt you again.”
Standing on tiptoes, I clutched his shirt and burrowed into the crook of his shoulder. “I wasn’t the only one he hurt. He wrecked your life, Rafe. We both did, and I am so, so sorry. I know I need to turn him in but—”
“Stop.” He pulled back and framed my face in his hands. “If it’s forgiveness you’re asking for, you’ve got it. Fuck, Alex, I’ll never forget the sight of you in that hospital bed. If I’d known, there’s no way in hell I would have left you there.” He drew in a deep breath. “But none of it matters as much as you being able to heal from all of this. You were only fifteen, way too fucking young to be held accountable for a decision your rapist coerced you into making.”
Hot tears slipped from my eyes, dripping down my face in relief. In the deepest and darkest crevices of my being, I’d never believed he’d be able to forgive me. A lump of anxiety formed in my throat, and I swallowed, but it only crashed into the pit of my stomach. His forgiveness wouldn’t keep me safe from Zach’s madness…wouldn’t keep him safe.
“He’ll come after us both. He’s insane and jealous—”
“You need to turn him in, Alex.” His hands fell from my face. “Zach belongs in jail. Fuck, I belong in jail. We’re gonna do something about it, regardless of what your piece-of-shit father has to say.”
My gaze darted through the window where trees obscured the bane of my existence. Those plans were terrifying—they involved getting into a boat again. They involved coming forward. I wasn’t sure which I dreaded more. “I won’t tell them what you did. If you want me to talk to the police, then you staying out of jail is my stipulation.”
“I won’t argue with that. I’d rather be here protecting you than sitting in a jail cell, so I guess we’d better get our stories straight.”
19. BODYGUARD
Rafe
I glanced at her in the passenger seat. The pallor of her skin worried me. So did the way she wrung her hands in her lap. She’d barely said two words since we’d left the island, except to insist on going to the sheriff’s department here in Dante’s Pass instead of filing the report in Portland. The boat ride had thoroughly rattled her, and I dreaded the trip back to the cabin. By the end of the day, I feared she’d hate my guts for making her go.
“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.”
20. UNCAGED
Alex
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 through 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 f
ootsteps 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.”
