Condemned Complete Series: A Dark Romance

by Gemma James

  “You’re still not telling me why you left,” I said after the seconds stretched into a full minute.

  “I got my memory back.”

  “Rafe,” I whispered, freeing my hand from his. I slid my palm along the side of his face. “You could have told me.” Drops of water hung from his thick lashes, bringing out the vulnerability in his eyes. It was hard to believe this was the same guy who’d blasted my ass not more than a half hour ago.

  “I remembered every disgusting thing I’d done to you.” Shuttering his eyes, he leaned into my palm and let out a broken sigh. “And even with that bastard’s blood on my hands, his fucking house in flames, I just wanted to lose myself in you, but I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I didn’t trust myself. Those eight years flooded in, and it was just…”

  “Too much?”

  “Yeah. I wasn’t thinking.”

  He’d gone into run mode. I could relate because that’s what I’d done yesterday. The only difference was I’d gotten punished for it. But something told me he’d been punishing himself since the day he’d taken off. He’d stayed away because the guy hiding behind his memory loss had terrified him.

  “Next question,” he said, clearly wanting to shut down this particular thread.

  I wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “Tell me what happened in prison.”

  His body went rigid, and he glared at me. “No.”

  “You promised me the truth.”

  He slid his hand down my belly and brushed his fingers over my throbbing clit. “How about I take care of this instead?”

  “How about you stop using sex to get your way? After everything we’ve been through, I deserve your honesty, don’t you think?”

  Abruptly, he let me go. “Why are you doing this?” He slid to the cool tile, holding his head in his hands. Without hesitation, I sank to my knees in front of him, though I sensed his need for space, so I didn’t touch him, despite the cramped stall making not touching him difficult.

  “Because I love you. I want you to unload on me.” Because I was the reason he’d gone through hell in that place.

  He dragged his hands through his hair and shot me a hard look. “Should I demand you tell me what Zach did to you? Make you recount all the fucking details? Make you relive it?”

  “You’re deflecting.”

  “So what if I am? Some things should stay in the past. This is one of those things, Alex.”

  “Not if it’s putting walls between us.” I trailed my fingers across my throat. “Not if it’s giving you nightmares.”

  “You’re scared of me.” His gaze followed the path of my fingers, a reminder of how he’d choked me in his sleep. “I might push you, sweetheart, but I never want you to be afraid of me.”

  “I’m not.” I let my hand drop. Even his subconscious would pull through to protect me because that’s who he was. He’d attacked me in his sleep, but he’d stopped. “I startled you during that nightmare.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I grabbed your shoulder. That’s when you came at me.”

  “I can’t…” He shook his head. “Babe, I managed to sleep next to you at your house last night without a problem, but I can’t risk that happening again.”

  “It won’t. You don’t have it in you to really hurt me, Rafe. Besides,” I said, placing my hand on his arm. “I know better now. I’ll turn on a light or something next time.”

  “There can’t be a next time.” He pushed to his feet in a single, fluid move and pulled me up. “Let’s continue this conversation later. You can ask your last question then.”

  I frowned. “I still have two left. You never answered the second one, so it doesn’t count.”

  “In my book, it does. I answered you, honestly, and I honestly think we don’t need to go there, ever.”

  “Forget the stupid questions.” Trying not to glower at him, I retreated and bumped into the side of the stall. “Why can’t you just talk to me? Is it that hard to have a conversation like a normal couple?”

  “We’re not normal.”

  “No, but maybe we should sprinkle a little normal on this…whatever this is.”

  He shut the water off with an angry downward strike of his hand. “Don’t try to change me into something I’m not.” His eyes raked over my erect nipples and the water dripping off of them. “We are who we are.”

  “I want more. I need more from you!”

  Biting back a frustrated growl, he wrenched me by the arm and pulled me from the bathroom, into the bedroom, and bent me over the bed again. A piece of me died right there. My ass was already raw from the last punishment. How much more did he need to dole out? How much more did he think I could take?

  Blinking silent tears down my cheeks, I closed my eyes to the sound of a drawer sliding open and slamming shut. His footfalls thundered across the room, and at the first touch of his hand on my bottom, I tensed, my misery and fear and anger tearing from my lips, unbidden.

  But…

  What the hell?

  “Relax,” he said, voice soft, almost tender, and it tore my heart out just to set it in place again. “Even animals can be tamed.” He rubbed something into my skin that soothed my burning welts.

  My legs trembled violently, and I cried in earnest, this time out of pure relief. More tears escaped, but not because I was sad, hurt or even scared. His touch reassured me that the man I’d fallen even more in love with while trapped in that tunnel still existed. The man who’d take care of me. Protect me. Love me.

  “Do you hate me for what I did earlier?” Uncertainty tinged his voice, and it was so fucking surreal, this constant battle he seemed to be in with himself.

  I chewed on my lip for a few moments, deliberating on how truthful I should be. Giving him my honesty would mean he’d only push harder in the future. Did I want that?

  Maybe I did.

  “I don’t think there’s anything you can do that will make me hate you.”

  He pulled me up by the shoulders, apparently satisfied that my ass was taken care of. “I know you want more from me, babe. I wanna give you more. I wanna give you fucking everything.” He stalked to the dresser, his steps taking on the weight of importance, urgency. He pulled out two sets of clothing—one for him and one for me.

  “There’s something I need to do before this fight, and I want you there with me for it.”

  18. FAMILY MATTERS

  Rafe

  “Why are we here?” she asked, keeping her voice low as we entered the gymnasium. I appreciated her desire to remain low key. I’d told her on the way in that I didn’t want to be spotted, especially as the once famous Rafe “The Choker” Mason. But instinctively, I knew her need to be invisible stemmed from more than my wish for her to do so.

  She wanted to be invisible because it provided safety. She’d tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible for most of her life. That innate need of hers came in handy now, but eventually, once the dust settled and we found some sort of normalcy in the chaos of our lives, I’d make her shine. I’d demand she stand out like the amazing fucking diamond she was.

  But today wasn’t that day. As I threaded our fingers and burrowed deeper into my hoodie, I kept my head low and led her through the throng of people arriving for the basketball game.

  If I could escape a fucking underground sex trafficking tunnel with little more than a hoodie, then I shouldn’t have a problem watching my son’s game without raising too much suspicion. I’d spied him leaving school, had even followed him home to his grandparent’s humongous house on the hill, but this was the closest I’d had the nerve to venture.

  Maybe having Alex at my side gave me the nudge I needed…because I had to see him one last time before Alex and I disappeared.

  I had to know he was doing okay.

  “Rafe?” she questioned again.

  “C’mon.” I stepped up the bleachers, pulling her behind me. She hastened to match my long strides as I climbed to t
he top right corner. I sat down and pulled her onto my lap.

  She hissed a breath between clenched teeth, and my damn cock responded to the pain in her voice. Rather than shift so her tender ass would settle more comfortably, I kept her planted there. Resting my chin on her shoulder, I let her shield my identity. Hopefully, people would only see two lovebirds cuddling in the back by themselves and not question why no one seemed to know the unfamiliar faces among them.

  This hole of a town on the Oregon coast, where Will’s grandparent’s lived, wasn’t big, but the school wasn’t dinky either, since city hall had combined grades K through eight.

  Sneakers pitter-pattered on the court below, and balls bounced, echoing off the walls. Some of the kids had arrived to warm up, but Will wasn’t among them yet. I drew in a deep breath and wrapped my arms around Alex’s middle, holding on to her for strength. For courage.

  “You’re shaking,” she whispered.

  “I’m scared as fuck.” That wasn’t easy for me to admit.

  She went still in my arms. “What are we doing here?”

  Will entered, and I swallowed my nervousness. Fuck, he’d grown so much since the last time I’d seen him hopping into his grandmother’s van four weeks ago. At least, he seemed taller. I recalled the first time I’d laid eyes on him in Dante’s Pass, right after I’d gotten out of prison. Those inquisitive green eyes had stared at me from the back of Nikki’s Toyota, painting the picture of a boy fascinated by the stranger who’d chased his mother down the sidewalk.

  Like always, I wondered if he missed her, which was a stupid thing to wonder because I’d missed my mom like crazy after she left.

  But Nikki was dead.

  How the fuck was he coping? Shit, I couldn’t even be there for him because I was partly responsible for what had happened to Nikki.

  An anxious flutter went through me. How would Alex react once she learned I had a son? I already knew she’d blame herself for Nikki’s death, and I had no fucking idea how to deal with that, or how badly she’d self-destruct. And what the fuck was I supposed to say to her? She was partially to blame. We all were.

  Letting out an aggravated sigh, Alex squirmed in my arms. “Talk to me.” The pain in her voice cut me deep, and I wanted to kick myself. She didn’t deserve to be shut out like this. Sliding my palms along the backs of her small hands, I tracked the sprinting form of Will with my gaze.

  “You see that boy down there dribbling the ball? Number 44?”

  She scanned the kids until she found him. “Yeah?”

  I entwined our fingers, knowing there wasn’t an easy way to say this. “He’s my son, Alex.”

  She went still, and if not for the screeching sound of sneakers on a polished floor, or the joyous whoops from the kids below, I was certain the silence would’ve been deafening.

  “What…?” She shook her head, mouth agape. “Huh?”

  Brushing my lips over her ear, I whispered the truth. How Nikki discovered she was pregnant after I’d gone to prison. How she hadn’t told me until I’d gotten out. How I’d forgotten that conversation, along with everything else, until after Perrone killed her in front of us.

  “I just knew. I couldn’t remember shit about the rest of those eight years, but I knew she had a kid.” I let out a breath that ruffled her hair. “I knew he was mine.”

  “How?” Alex pulled her lips between her teeth. “I mean, how do you know for sure?”

  “Look at him, babe.”

  She did, and her shoulders slumped the longer she studied him. She turned her head toward the exit, and I imagined the wheels turning in her head, figured she wanted through those doors rather than face reality with me.

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  Warm-up time on the court ended, and the kids readied for the start of the game. I spoke to Alex in low tones, my gaze glued to my son’s every move. Between the scuffle of the game and the parents’ excited shouts, no one paid us any attention.

  “You want me to let you in, well…I wanted you to know,” I told her. “I needed you to know.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m winning this fight, Alex, and after it’s done and over with, I’m taking you outta here. But I couldn’t leave without seeing him again. For his own good, he’s a secret I intend to leave buried in my past, but I couldn’t keep him from you.”

  Her body went rigid in my arms. “I’m the reason—” her voice cracked, and she sucked in a breath. “I’m the reason that boy down there doesn’t have a mom.” She dashed away a stray tear. “Or a dad.”

  I didn’t want to miss the rest of the game or take my eyes off the boy who looked so much like me, but I could tell that Alex needed some space to process.

  My son looked happy, adjusted, and that was all that mattered. I’d come to this area to be near him as much to outrun my demons, but it was time to move on. It nagged me like an impending storm that would pick me up and drop me three counties over in a whirlwind.

  A person could only hide for so long.

  As Will jumped and sent the ball sailing through the hoop, I urged Alex to her feet. We stepped down the bleachers with careful footfalls, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Pushing the doors open, my son’s shout of triumph rang through my ears as we headed toward the parking lot.

  It might be the last time I heard his voice again, and I’d never forget it, or the glint in his eyes after he scored for his team. Those branded memories would have to last me a lifetime because he was better off never knowing me.

  We strode into the chilly air, and Alex’s wind-blown hair wiped the remnants of sorrow from her cheeks. She was silent the whole ride back to the boat. And fuck, she was pissing me off because I knew what she was doing.

  Holding it in.

  Her tears, her anger, her sadness.

  “Let it out, baby,” I said, rolling to a stop in the field. I shifted the truck into park.

  “I could say the same to you,” she said. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

  “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. After what happened to Nik—”

  She pushed the door open and hopped out. I flung the driver’s side outward, and my feet hit the ground running. “Alex!”

  She whirled, both hands grasping her hair. “You’d be with your son right now if it weren’t for me. He’d have a mother!” She blinked rapidly, unraveling before my eyes and leaving me helpless to help her. “Oh my God!” she cried, and then the tears did spill over, rushing down her cheeks as if they wouldn’t stop. “I did this!”

  I wanted to reach out for her, tell her how wrong she was, but I couldn’t. The what-ifs were endless, plaguing the back of my mind, and I knew they plagued the forefront of hers. Even so, I wasn’t about to let her do this to herself.

  “It’s not your fucking fault! I don’t know how many times I need to tell you that. I don’t know when you’ll actually hear me!”

  “It is my fault!” she screamed, sliding her fingers under the sleeves of her jacket. I ground my teeth because I just fucking knew she was digging her nails in. “My lie destroyed more than just your life…” She hid her face in her hands.

  I crossed the distance and shoved her toward the dock. She was too busy having a meltdown to pay attention to the water.

  “Nikki, your son, the island, the vineyard…” she stuttered as our feet nearly skidded over the wet planks. “You’ve lost everything and everyone because of me.”

  “I still have you, don’t I?” I hefted her over my shoulder and stepped onto the boat, almost careening into the rail, then stomped down the stairs into the cabin. I set her on her feet.

  “No wonder you left me,” she said, doubling over. “How can you stand to be near me?”

  In two seconds flat, I had her wrists locked in my fists. “Look at me.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “I said look at me!” I gave her a firm shake until her burning eyes met mine. “You need to let it go. What’s done is done. Punishin
g yourself isn’t gonna change shit.”

  Her gaze landed on her bloodied fingernails. “But I deserve everything that’s happened to me. You don’t deserve any of it. I did this, Rafe.”

  My heart pounded in my ears, at a level that rivaled a roar. “Is that why you get off on pain? Why you let Zach hurt you for so long? Why you let me?” I practically ripped the jacket from her body before pushing the sleeves of her shirt to her elbows. Jerking her by the arms, my gaze raked over her torn up skin. “This is the reason you keep fucking hurting yourself, isn’t it? You think you deserve it.”

  “No, it’s—”

  “Yes it is!” I shook her again, my anger bubbling over, unstoppable. “I’ll give you pain, babe. Any fucking time. Just say the fucking word.”

  But there would be no asking or pleading this time. I plopped onto the sofa, unbuttoned her jeans and yanked down the zipper, then bent her over my knee. I shoved the denim below her ass and brought my hand down with a loud whack. She cried out, but unlike with the ginger, her voice trilled with relief.

  She needed this.

  “You held onto that victim card like a trophy, not because you were helpless but because you thought you deserved it.” I let another vicious smack fly on her ass.

  She squirmed, moaning, and her skin flushed a gorgeous pink. I was spanking raw skin, still fresh with welts, but it didn’t seem to bother her—not in the way it should. She was hot and bothered in a much different way. If I’d learned anything, it was that Alex was only punishable when denied what she wanted.

  Me.

  It had always been me.

  My hand quaked with the need to lay into her harder, but I didn’t want to go too far—not after the recent punishment Jax and I had put her through. But God help me. I’d spank her every fucking day until she stopped beating herself up. Until she stopped ripping into her skin. Until she finally forgave herself.

  19. RICOCHET

  Alex