by James, Gemma
I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t speak.
“He won’t hurt you anymore. Not when I’m through with—” A loud grunt tore through the night, and my lids popped open.
I scrambled to my knees as he battled with Zach for the gun. Holding both hands over my racing heart, I screamed Rafe’s name. And I screamed and screamed some more when they fell to the ground and Zach beat him over the head with a rock. Rafe stopped struggling.
He wasn’t fucking moving. The scene before my eyes crawled in slow motion as Zach pushed to his knees, then to his feet. He stepped back, body swaying, and aimed the barrel at Rafe’s unmoving form.
OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod…
I screamed at him to stop, but my voice cut out when the blast echoed off the mountains. I almost fell into the water, reaching, pleading, praying for Rafe to get up, but Zach kicked his body into the river.
My mouth opened, yet no sound came out. This wasn’t happening. That shot was a car backfiring from the highway, or someone testing their illegal mortars a few weeks early of the Fourth of July. Any second now, Rafe’s strong arms would pull him to safety and he’d beat the shit out of Zach.
But he didn’t surface.
Zach dove into the water with a splash, and his strokes brought him straight for me with the stealth and speed of a shark. I could do nothing to save myself. Water lapped against the boat, paralyzing me. My fear trapped me, held me prisoner in my own mind, and Rafe…
He wasn’t coming up, wasn’t gasping for breath and diving after Zach.
My heart fractured, split wide open, and I didn’t recognize the howl of agony spilling from my being. Zach pulled himself into the boat, his sodden clothing weighing him down, and shoved a hand over my mouth. I flailed as he wound an arm around my neck. I fought him with everything I had, even as my gaze fastened to the spot where Rafe had gone under. I longed to slip into the void after him, to vanish as he had. I didn’t want to live if he didn’t.
The headlights crawling along the highway, like pairs of lightning bugs, blinked out in my periphery, and the night narrowed to nothing, yet that empty spot in the river burned in my mind.
21. VANISH
Rafe
I jerked awake in the depths of icy water, kicked weak and useless limbs, and eventually broke the surface. Gasping, I pulled myself onto land with jittery arms and spewed water from my lungs, coughing until I puked. I rolled to my back, and the throb in my head made itself known. So did the fire in my left shoulder. The sky spun like a damn acid trip. Wet and itchy grass cradled my body, and I groaned as I ran my fingers along a nasty gash in my skull. I pulled my hand away and winced at the blood covering it. Too much blood.
Shaking uncontrollably, my heart rate doubled as I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t get myself off the ground. The stars seemed to distance themselves, as if they knew I’d suck the light out of them. I thought I heard someone scream, and something about that hysterical plea fisted my insides. What the fuck had happened to me? I recognized my dad’s island, but why I was sprawled on it, hurt and bleeding, I didn’t know. Another scream cut through the air, abruptly cut short as it carried in the night. Someone was in trouble, needed my help, yet I couldn’t move…couldn’t stay…awake.
Someone lifted me, followed by the unmistakable sway of a boat ride. A voice kept talking to me, telling me to hold on.
Almost there, buddy.
Almost where?
A horn blared, tires screeched, and frantic voices exchanged meaningless words because everything was meaningless. None of it made sense. Where was I?
Didn’t someone need help?
A sharp pain stabbed my chest at the thought. I was unworthy, a sadistic ass who’d done horrible things…who had I done this to? And why would I do something so…what had I done? Why was trying to remember making my head throb like a fucking drum, pounded on by brutal drumsticks that inflicted the most horrid pain? I felt those strikes clear though my eyeballs to my teeth.
Hands grabbed my body and lifted, sliding me onto something cold and hard and bumpy. An engine rumbled to life. I groaned as I rolled, though an arm steadied me, as did the leg stretched out at my side.
A bright light woke me, searing my eyes and intensifying the throb at my temples, which kept time to the rhythmic beep that irritated my ears. I rubbed the blurriness from my vision and took in the small room. What the hell? Had I lost a fight, beaten so badly I’d needed hospitalization?
Why couldn’t I remember?
Someone shifted on my left, and I found a guy slumped in a chair, his dark blond hair a mess on his head. His drawn face displayed signs of fatigue.
“Thought I’d lost you, man.”
I blinked. Something wasn’t right. He must have been in the wrong room, or confused.
I closed my eyes, but when I opened them, he was still staring at me, waiting for an answer. “Why are you here?”
“Seriously? We get into one fight and this is how you’re gonna play it?” He brushed the hair from his brown eyes. “That’s cold. If I hadn’t come back, you would’ve bled to death. Lucky for you, you sonofabitch, it was a clean shot, so no permanent damage.”
I blinked again, feeling as if I were missing several cards from the deck. “I don’t remember. How long have I been here?”
Some of the anger left his shoulders. “You’ve been laid up three days. It was touch and go for a while. You lost a lot of blood, and they didn’t know how long you’d gone without oxygen.”
What the hell? No one choked me out. It just wasn’t done. I choked my opponents.
“Must have been some fight.”
He raised a brow. “That’s a mild way of putting it. No one can piece together what happened.” He gave me a heavy look, then lowered his voice. “Which is a good thing since you-know-who vanished, though I’d like to get my hands on whoever did this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, I’m guessing you let her go? There’s been no sign of her since. I said I found you on the side of the highway, so the island is secure. No cops crawling it.” He sighed. “So what do you remember? Because fuck, Rafe, I don’t have a clue what happened out there.”
I studied this tattooed stranger through squinted eyes, still having no idea who he was or what he was talking about, yet he acted as if he knew me. “Um, I remember seeing Nikki the other night.” Hell, that girl could fuck a guy raw. My dick twitched as I remembered how she’d ridden me.
“How bad did you bump your head? Nikki showed up a few mornings ago. Close call too.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I knew the risks when I signed on for this, but I gotta say it—these past few days have been a bitch.”
“What?” Was he purposefully speaking in riddles? I’d fucked Nikki the night Zach and I had gone head-to-head. I was still on a high from winning that title, knowing my dream of fighting in the UFC was a real possibility now. As for the rest of what this guy at my bedside said, it made about as much sense as his presence.
I glanced around the room and tried to figure out what I was missing. Plain white walls, standard hospital machinery, and that fucking beeping that increased the throbbing in my head. Most notably, someone was absent. “Where’s my dad?” I wasn’t surprised my brother hadn’t shown up. He was always too busy to differentiate his asshole from his mouth, and he’d never approved of my career anyway, but Dad would be the first one here.
The guy narrowed his eyes. “Something’s not right…” He jumped to his feet and hit the call button.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting help, ‘cause you’re not acting like yourself.”
“Dude,” I said, “How would you know? I don’t even know who the hell you are. No offense.”
He collapsed back into the chair, eyes wide, and his panic penetrated my tough veneer. His reaction scared me, and I didn’t know why.
“That is not funny,” he said. “Cut the crap.”
I shook my head. “Seriously, who are y
ou?”
He pushed his hands through his hair. Three times now, he’d done that. Must be a nervous tick. “This isn’t happening.” His gaze bored into me. “Who’s the President?”
“Of the UFC?”
“No! Of the fucking United States.”
I furrowed my brows. “Bush, why?”
“Shit,” he said, then dropped his head into his hands. A few seconds later, he looked up, his face taut with stress. “What year is it?”
“2006. What the hell is going on?”
“You’ve lost eight years of your life, man. That’s what’s going on.”
BOOK TWO: RAMPANT
To my fellow lovers of the dark side.
1. BACK TO ME
Alex
Another drop of sweat crawled down my nose like a spider. In the stifling air of the trunk, I struggled to draw each breath. Perspiration pooled at my temples, irritating, flushing my cheeks with too much heat. I wiped the dampness on my sleeve. The vehicle swayed with the road, and I curled into a ball with a groan. At some point, the hum of the highway turned to gravel, then to a bumpy ride that rocked me back and forth. I shot an arm out to steady myself, and my belly protested the smothering heat and swerving motion. Chunks of what I’d eaten for dinner erupted from my mouth, souring the air. I scooted away so my cheek wouldn’t smear in it.
Bump, bump, sway. Oh God…taking in shallow breaths didn’t help. The air was too thick, and the overwhelming odor of vomit made me heave again, but my stomach had nothing left to purge. A few minutes later the car jerked to a stop and the engine shut off. The heavy thump-thump-thump of feet on gravel pounded through ears trained to recognize and dread that purposeful gait. When Zach lifted the lid, the black night engulfed him, yet I sensed the fury seeping from his being.
He grabbed my hair, angled my head back, and thrust a bottle against my lips. “Drink.”
My mouth resembled the consistency of sandpaper, so I didn’t hesitate. I clutched it, both hands covering his, and sucked down every last bit. Spent of energy, I dropped my head to the bed of the trunk, right into the expelled contents of my stomach.
“You’ve reached a new low, Lex. You’re lying in your own puke.” As I inched away from the vomit, he retreated a step. “Fuck. I’ve reached a new low. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? Everyone thinks you’re dead. I thought you were dead!” Hands yanking at his mussed up brown strands, he began to pace. His clothing clung to his body, as if still damp from the river.
Rafe’s face infiltrated my mind, and I blinked to hold back the hot sting of tears. Devastation pressed on my breastbone, coiling around me and tightening until I couldn’t move or speak. I tried shaking his image from my brain, but it stuck like tar.
I didn’t want to think or feel.
Doing either would crush me, and I couldn’t afford to break down. Not yet. I knew I would eventually, when I could no longer hold off the anguish strangling my wind pipe. When I had no choice but to confront the truth poking my insides with the burn of a hot fireplace poker.
Rafe was gone.
Zach muttered something indecipherable, pulling me from the dark place in my mind, and his agitated pacing continued. A bullfrog’s call joined in, croaking through the night with the finesse of a chain-smoker. Frogs meant water was nearby, right? I followed Zach’s movement, my heart racing even faster at the perceived threat. How close were we? I visualized jumping out and running…and falling in, just like I had the night I tried to flee the island. My limbs stiffened, and I scooted further into the depths of the trunk.
“It’s gonna be okay. Everything’s fine,” he said, more to himself than to me. He started to lower the lid.
“Wait!” I cried, a moment away from sobbing. “Where are you taking me?”
“Enjoy the ride.” A trace of malice tainted his sonorous tone.
The lid slammed down with a clunk, and the darkness suffocated me. The helplessness. Letting out a hiccupping mewl, I counted the seconds before Zach started up the engine. And I kept counting, as it was the only thing keeping me from totally unraveling as the car continued its winding path. After a while, I drifted in and out of consciousness. Or maybe it was a fog. I couldn’t say if I slept or not. Part of me latched onto the hope that this night was a bad dream. But hope was dangerous. Hope made you do stupid things, all in the name of trying for a better outcome that would never come to fruition. Accepting reality was harsher but best in the long run.
I’d been kidnapped. Twice. I’d survived the first time because my captor had harbored a sadistic streak and a conscience. My chances of getting through this were nada. Zach would never let me go. Not with the world believing I was dead. Not after he’d found me with…
Don’t think of him.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willed my mind blank. I must have fallen asleep because I awoke to Zach lugging me from the trunk. I fell to the ground and winced, rocks and dirt gouging my knees. He hefted me up by the back of my shirt, flung my aching body over his shoulder, and stalked toward a small cabin. I squinted against the morning gray, and the cool air on my face came as a relief after the confines of the trunk. Rolling slopes of timber enclosed us—a mixture of Douglas fir and pine. In the distance, the snowy peak of Mt. Hood offered a point of reference. But I found the utter quiet, interrupted only by the song of birds, especially unsettling. Besides the wildlife, not a hint of existence stirred beyond those trees.
“Home sweet home,” he said as he climbed the porch.
I cranked my neck as he ran a hand along the doorframe. He withdrew a key, steadied me with one hand, and used the other to shove it into the knob before kicking the door open. He stomped through the main room, dim in the dawning light barely peeking through the curtains.
“Put me down!” I kicked my feet and dug my nails into his strong back as he entered a bedroom.
“Stop it, Lex.” He yanked my sweats down, baring my bottom, and smacked my ass hard. “Don’t try to run,” he said, letting me slide to the floor in the adjacent bathroom. “You won’t get far. No one’s around for miles.”
As I jerked my pants up, my gaze lowered to his muddy sneakers, but he gripped my chin and forced my attention on his face. “You understand me? No one will hear your screams up here. Nobody knows we’re here, and the owner’s in Europe for the summer, so it’s just you and me.”
Five in, hold, five out. Repeat.
I’d lived by the ritual since the day he’d stolen my innocence. Only now I was stuck on hold. If I didn’t breathe, then I wasn’t alive. If I wasn’t alive, then I couldn’t feel.
His gaze lowered to my filthy tee. “Take that damn thing off.”
Air whooshed from my lungs in a rebellious rush, and my chest resumed its natural rise and fall. But I wasn’t breathing, and I didn’t know how my arms moved without a heart that pumped life through it, how my fingers grasped the bottom of the shirt that belonged to Rafe.
His shirt. On my body.
If I closed my eyes and pretended, I could almost feel Rafe’s arms around me, his mouth moistening my neck, his warm palms on my breasts, brushing across hardened nipples. Could almost hear the husky way he spoke to me, his tone full of command yet quiet with vulnerability. I chewed my lip to stop it from trembling, but my chest shook with the rising tide of grief.
“Now, Lex.”
I jerked my gaze to my brother’s hardened expression. Even after all he’d done, I couldn’t think of him differently. I still remembered him as the boy I’d latched onto when I was six, when our parents made the colossal mistake of merging our families. Reality demanded I think of him as a murderer, but that only brought me back to the fact that I wasn’t breathing. Still. Not. Breathing.
Rafe’s not dead. Not dead. Dead, dead, dead…
The thought fired through my synapses, on constant repeat.
“You fucking reek of him!” Zach’s hazel eyes spit poison, as potent as the arsenic boiling in his soul. “Take it off.”
I lifted Rafe’s shirt over my head and stared, transfixed as the soft gray cotton dropped to the hardwood. I wanted to yank it back and bury my nose in it, inhale Rafe’s essence the way lungs hungered for air. Zach pulled me from the trance by sliding my sweats down my legs. I stepped free, holding onto his shoulder to keep from tipping over.
“Get him off of you,” he said with a rough shove into the shower stall.
A zipper lowered, clothing rustled, and the familiar sounds shivered through me. He switched on the water, and for a few blessed seconds the chaos in my mind fell silent, immersed in the roar of the spray. I crossed my arms over my chest and clawed at my biceps, dug my nails in deep until all that penetrated was pain. Leaning my forehead on the cold tile, I welcomed the numbness that blanketed me. I knew what was coming, and I didn’t want to be present for it.
Numb, Alex. Pay no attention to his hand slithering down your spine.
My protective cocoon threatened to dissipate as he bent me over, his naked front pressed to my back. My palms slammed against the wall, and he wound an arm around me, his fingers dipping between my thighs. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying. I wouldn’t cry for Zach. There was only one man I wanted to spill tears for and he was…
I gasped a breath and held, clenching my jaw as Zach’s cock pushed past my body’s rigidity. Warm droplets of water coursed down my face and shoulders, but the space between my thighs remained dry as a desert. I pressed closer to the tile, wishing I could escape him, wishing I could melt into the wall and disappear forever.
“The hell, Lex? You’re dry as fuck.” He pulled out then shoved in so violently, I arched to my toes. My teeth tugged at my lower lip and the metallic tang of blood lingered on my tongue. “I spent years molding you,” he said with a grunt, pumping a steady, harsh rhythm that punished from the inside out. “Bastard corrupted you.”