by Gemma James
It didn’t matter how much I knew deep in my gut that Alex despised this mother fucker—his smug certainty followed me upstairs, haunting every breath long after I shut off the light and slammed the door.
19. TWICE THE LOSS
Rafe
Something vibrated against my hip, dragging me from sleep, and the absence of the warm body on the couch beside me was the first thing to register. Alex was nowhere in sight, but the hint of running water in the bathroom reached my ears. The thought that she felt the need to take another shower so soon sent an ache pinging through the chambers of my heart.
She could shower morning, noon, and night and still not wash this hellish experience from her being, and there was nothing I could do about that, no magic cure to be found that would heal her.
Only time would do that.
The buzzing sensation against my hip continued, and I retrieved the cell phone I’d gotten back from Alex last night. Jax’s face flashed across the screen.
With a swipe of my thumb, I answered the call. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Got the situation cleaned up,” he said without preamble as the distinctive whoosh of traffic sounded in the background. “No one will find a trace.”
“I can’t thank you enough.”
“Don’t mention it.” His nicotine habit was an audible exhale over the line. “Did you take care of Zach yet?”
“No,” I said, rising to my feet and stretching my calves. Sleeping on the sofa wasn’t my idea of a good night’s rest, but I wasn’t about to force Alex up those stairs our first night back. I wasn’t about to let her sleep alone either. “I’m still deciding what to do.”
“Look, man. I know I voted for prison last time, but he’s proven that’s a useless plan.”
“You think I should take him out?”
“I don’t think he’s given you a choice.”
“I agree. I’m hoping Alex is on the same page this time.”
“The way we found her…I’d be shocked to shit if she weren’t.” He let a beat pass, and muffled voices chatted in the background. “Listen, I’ve gotta go. I’ll come by in a few days to touch base.” The line went dead, and I wouldn’t expect anything else from Jax.
With a sigh, I set my cell on the sofa table on the way to the bathroom, figuring I’d join Alex in the shower. I’d almost reached the promise of hot water and my wife’s irresistible body when the doorbell rang. Changing direction, I questioned who the hell had the balls to show up on the island unannounced.
I pulled the door open, and the ground gave out from beneath me.
Will’s grandfather stood on the other side, looking as formidable as I remembered, though less so now that he was living the life of sobriety. He’d never liked me back when he lived in Dante’s Pass, and Nik and I had been tight. I was sure that held true now all these years later.
“What can I do for you, Nicholas?” Another man accompanied him, someone I didn’t recognize, and my gaze ping-ponged between the two.
He shifted, the motion drawing my eye to the manilla folder clutched in his hands. “I’m going to get straight to the point. I know you were involved in my grandson’s kidnapping.”
I forced my face into a neutral mask. Part of me had expected the fallout from this. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
He huffed.
Because we both knew exactly what he was talking about, and I could deny it all I wanted, but if Will identified me, it was game over.
He passed the folder to the man at his side, and the guy thrust it in my direction.
“You’ve been served,” the stranger said.
“What’s this?”
Nicholas cleared his throat. “A petition to terminate your parental rights.”
So he knew.
Of course he did, or he wouldn’t be here. I flipped through the court papers, noting the filing date. He’d had the documents drawn up a week before my wedding.
I glanced up and met his eyes—the same deep brown he’d passed down to Nik. “I didn’t have anything to do with his kidnapping.”
“So you don’t deny your knowledge of it.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a statement designed to corner me.
I didn’t answer. Lying to him was pointless and explaining just as useless, because he wouldn’t listen. If he wanted me in jail, he would have sent the cops. He was here because he wanted something else.
Me, out of Will’s life on a permanent, legal basis.
The thought formed a lump in my throat, and I swallowed to dislodge the ache. I’d walked away from Will knowing it was for the best.
For him, not for me.
His kidnapping had proven that I was unfit to be a father, too caught up in dangerous shit I feared would follow me until the day I died. This wasn’t an environment for a child.
And yet, the thought of signing away my son…
With a defeated sigh, I dragged a hand through my messy hair. “I haven’t had any contact with him. I walked away for his own good.”
“Look,” Nicholas said, crossing his arms, “I know what you did for Will. He didn’t want you to get into trouble, so don’t be angry at him.”
“What did he tell you?”
“Not much at first. He was tight-lipped, but he slipped up and mentioned your tattoos.”
That was one downside to inking one’s skin. I cursed under my breath. “Is he okay?”
“It’ll take some time, but he’ll recover.”
I let out a breath. “I care about him.”
“I figured as much. I don’t know what the hell you did to have my grandson dragged into such a traumatic situation, but I know you got him out, and that’s why I’m willing to look the other way.”
The set of his jaw spelled the caveat.
“But only if I sign over my parental rights.”
“You said you already walked away. This is just putting that decision on paper.” He rubbed his chin. “My only concern is for Will’s well-being. With Nikki gone, he’s all I’ve got.”
“Just…give me a second.”
Letting the door inch shut behind me, I dragged both hands through my hair, tugging on the strands to the point of pain as I paced the foyer, mind tumbling end-over-end. Someday, Will would find out about me, and he’d wonder why I’d walked away. Putting it on paper seemed so much worse.
So fucking final.
His terrified face flashed in my head, the glint of metal at his throat. He’d had to go through that because of me.
Because of my shitty choices.
Letting out a long breath, I pulled the door open and found the two men right where I’d left them. “I won’t contest the petition.”
“You’re making the right decision, for Will’s sake.”
Throat too thick, all I could do was nod.
“Before I go, I need to ask.” He took a step in my direction, a hint of threat in that single footfall. “Is my grandson safe?”
The question reverberated through my conscience, and I hated that he even had to ask. “The problem’s been taken care of.”
“I’m glad to hear it, because if you put him in danger again, there won’t be a get-out-of-jail-free card next time.”
No acknowledgements were needed, and neither were additional words. Will’s grandfather and his companion walked away, and I closed and locked the door. Setting the documents on the table in the foyer, I felt the loss of what could have been square in the chest.
A dull ache I’d never be capable of displacing.
Later, the full magnitude of the decision I’d made would hit me, and I knew it would burn like hell. Needing a distraction, I headed in the direction of the bathroom, anxious to join Alex, but the spray of the shower was absent. Pushing the door open, I found her sitting on the toilet, hair a wet and tangled mess surrounding her face.
She glanced up, eyes red and leaking tears down her cheeks, and my world tilted off its axis as fear stole my breath. “What’s wrong?”
�
��I’m bleeding.”
I searched for the source of her despair, gaze roaming her skin for a sign of blood. “Where are you hurt?” I met her eyes again, the seconds passing in deafening silence.
Apprehension lined her gorgeous face. Her lips parted, closed, parted again.
“Alex, what is it?”
“I…I’m…pregnant.”
A single blink—that’s all the reaction I could give her. Because her words didn’t make sense, were incomprehensible.
A high-pitched wail launched from her throat, spiraling her pain into the bathroom left humid from the shower. Shoulders shaking from the force of her heartache, she buried her face in her hands.
“I mean was,” she said between broken sobs, words muffled into her palms. “I was pregnant.”
20. A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH
Alex
Zach was sleeping.
Sleeping so deeply that not even the sudden light, or my presence, roused him. I stood a foot away from the bars, clutching the remote to the shock collar. I wasn’t supposed to be down here, but the ache in my chest was an unbearable reality I couldn’t escape.
I needed to see Zach.
Needed to see him suffer.
Suffer like I was, trapped between numbness and burning despair.
Grief and rage.
I had no words to describe the emptiness inside me, and nothing else in my existence to compare it to…
Except for the time when I thought Rafe was dead.
The blood soaking the pad between my thighs left me hollow and a bit crazed. Giving Zach no warning, I activated the collar, and he shot off the cot and hit the ground, curling into the fetal position. In surreal detachment, I watched him writhe on the concrete, experiencing neither joy nor triumph. Torturing him wouldn’t make the miscarriage less real.
It wouldn’t bring my baby back.
I turned off the electricity streaming through his muscles. He groaned, eyes squeezed shut, and tried to push to his hands and knees. I remembered all too well the power of that electrical current, the way it incapacitated one’s limbs. The way it stole the hope for survival.
Zach had raped me at my weakest, thanks to that collar, and if not for all he’d done, I might still be pregnant.
“Look at me,” I demanded through gritted teeth, full of bitter rage.
He lifted his head, and our eyes met.
“You think you’re in pain now?” I crouched, coming face-to-face with him, prison bars the only barrier between us. “It’s nothing compared to the anguish I want to bring to you.”
“Lex, please…” His breath sawed in and out with too much effort, as if he’d just finished running a race. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I wanted to love you.”
“You wanted to destroy me.”
“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Try to understand. You’re all I have.”
“You have nothing.” I spit in his face. “Nothing but this fucking prison, do you hear me?”
Zach didn’t display fear often, but his eyes widened with it now. “You can’t leave me in here.”
“It’s what you deserve,” I choked out, sickness rising in my throat at the thought of everything he’d cost me. “You killed my child.”
A heavy beat passed before comprehension dawned on his beaten face. “You’re pregnant?”
“Was pregnant!” I screamed at him, willing my eyes to remain dry as I wrapped myself in rage. I returned to my full height and glared down at him, chest heaving from the force of my hatred. “You fucked everything up.” I switched on the collar again, and the sound of his howls trilled through my veins.
This was what he’d turned me into.
A monster.
A monster without conscience.
The remote slipped from my grasp and thudded to the floor, and I didn’t move to pick it up. In that moment, I wanted to watch him writhe in agony for the rest of my life. I backed up, lost in a trance as Zach twitched with strangled grunts, and bumped into a warm body. Rafe stepped around me and picked up the controller. With a flick of his thumb, he turned it off.
“You shouldn’t be down here. Come back to bed. It’s late.”
By bed he meant the couch, because I still couldn’t bring myself to go upstairs.
“He needs to suffer.” A jab of my finger in Zach’s direction punctuated the wrath in my words.
“He will. I swear to you. He will suffer.” His hand slid along my cheek, searching for tears that weren’t there. “He’ll be gone soon, and you’ll never have to worry about him again.”
“It’s not enough.”
Rafe’s brows furrowed. “It’ll never be enough, baby.” He took me by the shoulder and ushered me up the stairs, and we left Zach alone in the dark.
“I don’t want him dead,” I said, yanking free of his grasp.
“We don’t have to talk about this right now. You’ve had nothing but trauma on top of trauma.”
Twelve hours had passed since I’d miscarried, but those hours had changed me in ways I never imagined time could change a person. I no longer recognized the survivor in the mirror.
I only saw a ghost.
“He doesn’t deserve death. He deserves to suffer every fucking day for the rest of his life for what he’s taken from us.”
My baby, Rafe’s son. The things on the list were endless.
“He should live the rest of his life in that prison, tortured by what he can’t have,” I said, holding Rafe’s gaze, finding bold courage for what I was about to say, because he wouldn’t like it. “I want you to fuck me in front of him.”
Rafe dragged a hand down his face. “Why would you want that?”
“Because watching the way it is between us…that will hurt him.”
“Think about what you’re asking of me.”
“I’m asking you to make him suffer. It’s what he deserves.”
“This isn’t the way to go about it, Alex.”
“I know him. It will destroy him to see what he’ll never have. I need him to see that we’ll go on living while he rots down there.”
“So let me get this straight. Instead of killing the sonofabitch, you want to keep him locked up in our cellar for the rest of his life?”
I crossed my arms, refusing to back down. “It’s a fate worse than death, and Zach deserves nothing less.”
“He does, babe. He deserves that and so much more. But you’re too upset right now to make such a huge decision. You’re not thinking this through.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was a mess, probably levels past the ability to think clearly. But the idea wouldn’t leave my mind. “Tell me you’ll consider it.”
Rafe gave a grim nod. And maybe he was placating me, being agreeable in hopes that I’d come to my senses.
I knew I wouldn’t.
21. ANOTHER ANGLE
Rafe
“What’s up with your woman?” Jax said, appearing in the kitchen. “She didn’t acknowledge my presence.” He nodded in the direction of the front porch where Alex had spent most of her free time for the last two days on the swing. “I swear she looked right through me out there.”
“You hungry?” I asked, dodging the inquiry in his eyes as I removed a baking dish from the oven. I hoped the homemade mac and cheese would give Alex a shred of comfort, because she sure as hell wasn’t getting any from me.
Not for a lack of trying, though. My wife had completely withdrawn into herself, and I couldn’t bring myself to use my normal methods of reaching her.
“I could eat,” Jax said, pulling three plates down from the cupboard.
“Where’s Angel?”
“She’s not feeling well. She wanted to stay at the safe house today.”
“I didn’t realize you’d gone back there.” I spooned a decent helping onto each plate.
“We thought we’d give you guys some space. It’s temporary, anyway. I might have tracked down one of Angel’s relatives in Cali.”
“No shit?”
�
��Yeah, man. A brother.”
We moved to the eat-in nook. “Give me a sec. I’m gonna see if I can talk Alex into coming inside.” As Jax slid onto the bench, I picked up my wife’s plate before leaving the kitchen.
She wouldn’t come inside. I already knew she wouldn’t, but that wouldn’t stop me from trying. Finding her where I’d seen her last, pushing the porch swing into motion with absent-minded calculation, I crouched in front of her, one hand stopping the swing to get her attention.
“Jax is here. Why don’t you come inside and join us for dinner?”
She blinked. “Have you decided yet?”
Fuck.
She wouldn’t let it go, and I was beginning to think she’d latched onto the idea of making Zach suffer in order to cope with the miscarriage. Truth was, neither of us were coping very well. I still hadn’t processed it, and though I hadn’t brought up the fact that she hadn’t told me, it was always on the forefront of my mind, question begging to be asked.
But I needed to find a way to ask it without accusing, because regardless of whether she should have told me, I recognized that she needed more from me than anger-flung accusations.
She needed my love.
And apparently, she needed Zach to witness just how intense my love could get.
“Zach’s fate can wait a few more days.” I set the plate next to her on the swing, and that’s when I spotted the fresh scratches on her forearm. Jesus. Something had to give because she sure as hell couldn’t keep hurting herself like this. “Try to eat, okay?”
With a muted nod, she picked up the plate, and I returned inside, leaving her to her self-imposed isolation.
“She’s still struggling with all of this, isn’t she?” Jax said as I took the seat across from him.
“A lot of shit’s happened.” Pushing my food around the plate, I raised my eyes. “She had a miscarriage the morning after we got back. I didn’t even know she was pregnant.”
Jax’s eyes grew big. “Holy shit. No wonder she’s rocking herself to sanity out there.”
“It gets worse. She wants me to fuck her in front of Zach.”
“Come again?”
