by James, Gemma
Jax closed his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “I loved that land almost as much as you did.”
“Why are you doing this? Fucking tell me that much, at least.”
Voices filtered in from the hall. Jax rose to his knees and allowed me to push to my elbows. With a frown, he glanced toward the door, and we listened to the scuffle of movement on the other side. “You won’t get out of here alive without me. I’m the only one on your side.”
“If you’re on our side, then get us the fuck out of here.”
“Can’t do that.”
I studied him—the furrow of his brow, the defeat in his expression, and replayed the words he’d exchanged with Cleft. He’d referred to his old man…who apparently was the guy in charge around here. “You’ve got no real power, do you?”
“I haven’t had any fucking power since the day I was born.” He stood and pulled me to my feet.
The room spun, causing bile to rise in my throat. I swayed for several moments, sure I was going to spew what was left in my stomach onto the ground. Jax propped me up, one arm winding under my armpit, and we shuffled toward the spray of the shower.
I planted a hand against the tile to steady myself. He let go, retreating a few steps, and I closed my eyes as the water washed away the vomit and sweat from my skin. He stood nearby with silent patience, so I took my time, hoping it would be enough to regain some strength. I couldn’t protect Alex like this—fuck, I couldn’t even protect myself. This was bad.
“Where’s Alex?” I tilted my head and sent him a glare through the water dripping down my face. “Is she okay?” The question ended on a shaky note. I was fucking terrified of hearing the answer. I couldn’t stand to think of her as not okay.
Jax clenched his jaw, and his gaze lowered to his soaked sneakers. “How bad was it?”
“Bad. He used a cane on her.”
“Finish up.” He tapped his foot for a few seconds, his brows scrunched together, as if he were mulling over something. “I’ll take you to her.”
I switched off the water before taking a few cautious steps. The room swayed slightly, but at least I could walk on my own.
“You got this?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
With a nod, he gestured at the exit.
“You’re gonna make me walk out of here like this?” I raised my arms, indicating my naked state.
“Don’t have any clothes for you. If Cleft had his way, he’d be fucking you right now, so I’d say beggars can’t be choosers.”
Getting to Alex was the only thing that mattered, so I stepped through the door, water trickling from my body, and let him lead me down the tunnel-like hall that never seemed to end. “Where the hell are we?”
He glanced up and down the tunnel before speaking in a low tone. “Underground.”
“Underground where?”
He pointed behind us. “That end leads to the old man’s office and connects to the basement. Some of the Shanghai tunnels ran to the house, but this portion was built during prohibition.” He shook his head with a scowl. “Now it’s used to traffic girls.”
I raised my eyes toward the ceiling, where the pipes hung low. Some leaked in a few spots, creating small puddles of mud on the ground. “What about the other end? Where’s it go?”
“Somewhere in Forest Park.”
So we were in Portland, close to the bustle of people that could help us if they only knew this place existed. I wasn’t sure why Jax was telling me this, and I didn’t get a chance to question him further. A scream echoed from down the hall.
I staggered forward, every muscle bunching in preparation for a fight, adrenaline coursing through my veins.
“It’s not Alex,” Jax said.
He halted at a door, and another scream tore through my ears. He appeared stoically detached, as if the screech of pain was something he was used to hearing on a daily basis.
Maybe it was.
Maybe I hadn’t known him at all, even before I’d lost my memory.
He pushed in a key. “She’s in there.” He wedged the door open and removed a penlight from his pocket. The beam bounced across an empty cot. Mouth flattening into a line, he shoved the door wider, and the tiny stream of light lit up a huddled form on the floor.
“There’s no light in these rooms, but at least you got a bucket to shit in.” He swerved the beam to the other end of the room.
I couldn’t care less about the bucket or the lights or his casual, helpful tone. He sure as fuck wasn’t a friend of mine. I gazed down the hall, toward the end that led to the middle of nowhere in Forest Park, and wondered how much time it would take to get Alex out, assuming I could knock Jax on his traitorous ass first. The drugs were definitely wearing off, but the edges of my vision were still hazy, and I had shit for strength in my arms. She’d probably need to be carried out of here.
“Escaping isn’t gonna happen.”
My attention snapped to him. I was a moment away from trying to knock him out anyway, but the two goons—the ones who’d walked my pathetic ass into the showers—appeared a few feet down the tunnel.
Jax shut off the penlight and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “We’re both stuck here, whether we like it or not.”
“Don’t play the victim, Jax. This is fucked up.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.” He shoved me into the room and slammed the door. I turned, and my hands smoothed over the surface, but he’d already clicked over the lock.
Suffocating blackness strangled me, blocking my air—blocking out everything except the stream of memories that flooded my head. I slid to the floor, my limbs shaking, losing strength as the last bit of adrenaline left my system.
Another shriek came through the wall, knifing through me, as pieces of my past resurfaced.
7. TAKING SHELTER
Alex
I jumped when the door burst open. Light beamed into the blackness, but it was too quick to note anything other than Rafe’s presence. He spoke to someone for a few moments, though I couldn’t understand what he said. Then he stumbled inside and the clank of the lock echoed, leaving us in complete darkness. Silence thickened the air, broken into pieces by the screams of the girl next door. Between the wailing, I listened, waiting for him to say something, do something, make some noise that indicated he was there, because I knew he was.
So why wasn’t he talking to me?
Gritting my teeth against the pain, I forced myself into a sitting position and slowly pushed to my knees. “Rafe?” I called, crawling in the direction of the door. The chain attached to my neck crept after me like a snake. At least, that’s what I envisioned.
He remained eerily silent as I spanned the distance between us. Terror gripped my heart, and my breath came fast and noisy. “Talk to me,” I said, but everything I was, all the shattered pieces of me, fell through the cracks. Fear iced my heart. Oh God. What had they done to him? My limbs shook violently as I lowered to my haunches next to him, and that’s when I heard it.
A low groaning, interspersed with quick, shallow intakes of breath. As if he were trying not to breathe. As if he were trying to hold it in. I knew what that was like.
My eyes burned with grief. “Rafe…” I reached out to touch him, but he shifted away at the first brush of my fingers. Fear and rejection darted through me, leaving in its wake tiny holes where stubborn hope seeped. I had to believe we’d find a way out of this. Giving in to the alternative would surely get us killed.
“What…what happened?”
“I remember.”
Letting out a breath, I reached for his hand, and my fingers wrapped around his on the first try, as if they knew exactly where they belonged. I held on tight, refusing to let him withdraw. “What did you remember?”
“The hole in prison. The guards let him in…”
“Let who in?”
“Cleft smells like him.” He returned my grip painfully. “He fucked me in there. Cleft fucking smells like him.”
“Who’s
Cleft?”
“The fucker in the hoodie.”
I stiffened, still unable to get the hatred in that man’s eyes out of my head. “He was in prison with you?”
“I think so. I can’t remember…I couldn’t see a thing in the hole.”
And we couldn’t see a thing in here. I ran my thumb over the back of his hand, blinking rapidly to hold back the simmering grief. I’d failed him eight years ago. I wouldn’t do the same now. I’d be strong for him, a rock for him to lean on. “Did he d-do it again?”
I waited with bated breath, my heart pounding in my ears. Another thwack and scream came from the other side of the wall, and I jumped.
Rafe jumped too. “Jax stopped him.” His voice sounded off, almost as if he’d rehearsed his void tone. I recognized the underlying shock because it matched the way I felt.
“In prison?”
“No, here. He’s here.”
“Jax is involved?”
“I don’t know how or why. None of this makes any fucking sense. He wants me to trust him, but I don’t even know him. How can I trust him when he won’t even tell me what the fuck is going on? All I know is they’re hurting you because of me.”
“I-I’m okay.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I will be okay. Just don’t shut me out.” I moved to straddle his lap, needing more than anything to wrap my arms around him, but he held me off.
“I’m naked, Alex.”
I sucked in a breath, sickened by the implications of why they’d remove his clothing. But we only had each other, so I straddled him, despite his protests, and lifted my hands to his rough cheeks. “So am I.”
He laughed. He actually laughed. But the pitch was off, like he was trying hard not to cry or scream or punch something. “I don’t know why this is happening. They said I did something in prison, but I can’t remember shit.”
“I don’t think this is just about you. After they drugged you in the woods, they brought me in to see Lucas.”
“Who?”
“Lucas Perrone,” I repeated, then faltered because he had no idea who I was talking about. How could he? He didn’t remember any of it. “He was a business associate of my dad’s. We dated for a while. He…he asked me to marry him the night you took me.”
“Did you accept?”
That wasn’t what I expected him to say, and I definitely hadn’t expected the note of possessiveness that tinged his tone. I lowered my hands to his shoulders. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I thought it would protect me from Zach.”
“So you didn’t love him.”
“There’s only one man I’ve ever loved. You already know that.”
“You have shitty taste, sweetheart.”
“I have a taste for you.” I lowered my head, and our breaths mingled. Electricity zinged through the darkness, crackling over our naked skin. Everywhere we touched sparked with heat. I inched back because being so close sent vivid images through my twisted head. I wanted to forget about Lucas, Jax, the fact that we were both prisoners in a dank room, naked and sitting in the dirt.
I wanted to lose myself in him, except we couldn’t just ignore reality. The threat wasn’t going away on its own.
“Why do you think Jax would do this?” He wasn’t the first person I’d trust, but Rafe had trusted him enough to share the cabin with him.
“Fuck, Alex. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure they’re all working for someone though. Jax mentioned his father.” Silence ensued, and we both stilled as the implications settled in.
“But that would mean…”
“Perrone is Jax’s father,” Rafe said, the words hoarse and barely audible. “What did he want with you?”
I squirmed on his lap, hesitant to go into Lucas touching me or nearly forcing his cock into my mouth. “He wanted something I wasn’t willing to give, not unless he agreed to let you go.”
“Alex…” he warned. “Don’t you dare try to bargain for my life.”
“It didn’t work anyway. He sent me into that room and…”
“And they beat you,” he finished, his voice cracking. He burrowed his face into the crook of my shoulder and crushed me in his embrace, holding on as if letting go meant he’d splinter apart. “I’ll kill them all,” he whispered.
My ass was burning something fierce, but I clenched my teeth until the pain dulled. I was just starting to relax, calmed by the shelter of his embrace, when another screech bled through the wall. We both froze, suspended in quiet horror.
Her screams reached every part of me, and my skin erupted with goose bumps. I’d been through a lot. Some would say I’d been to hell and back. But they were baptizing that poor girl by fire, taking her from everything she knew and loved just so they could torture her into becoming nothing.
A thing with holes to fuck, like Zach had treated me in that cabin. I shuddered at the thought.
“I won’t let them hurt you again,” Rafe said.
I knew he meant every word, but he was only one man. “I know,” I whispered. I wouldn’t upset him by telling him that I had little faith left. We were trapped in a dark room underground somewhere, and no one would find us.
“I won’t let them,” he repeated. We settled into each other, bodies pressed together, mouths parting over warm skin, and breathed the other in as the monster next door elicited more screams from his victim.
8. PANDORA'S BOX
Rafe
This confined, dark pit of hell was fucking with my head. Or maybe Alex’s naked body sent me spiraling through the deviant holes of my mind. She lay next to me on her stomach, her warm thigh pressed over my dick, and I couldn’t stop touching her. The cot was barely big enough for the two of us, which was fine by me because I wanted to keep her close anyway. But being so close tested my limits, and being trapped in this never-ending blindness had awakened a certain part of me. The part that enjoyed tracing a finger over the welts on her ass, following the angry lines branded in her flesh.
I’d traced her skin for hours, finding the act somehow soothing.
Blind captivity skewed reality to the point where time was meaningless, and it had a way of driving a person mad. It seemed like weeks had passed since Jax slammed the door, though it couldn’t have been more than a few days. Sandwiches and bottles of water arrived every so often through a slot in the door, apparently on some schedule I couldn’t track due to the pitch-blackness that made it impossible to measure time.
The longer we remained trapped in this dark cell, the closer I came to fissuring, and that pissed me off. I couldn’t let whatever issues lurked in my screwed up head pull me under now.
Thank fuck the screams next door had silenced on the first day. I kept torturing myself with what that girl might be enduring, and I felt like a bastard because I was grateful Alex was in here with me, safe from the monsters outside this room.
But that only left me to question the nature of the monster inside this room with her. Her vulnerability sparked something ugly in me. Something shameful. Something that threatened to unlock what I’d forgotten.
I didn’t want to remember what I’d done to her, but I was obsessed with finding out.
She whimpered in her sleep, indicating another nightmare was on the rise, and I gently shook her shoulder to wake her before the horrors of her mind trapped her in the past.
“Wake up, baby.”
She awoke with a sharp intake of breath and pushed to all fours, barely missing my balls with her knee. The bastards had leashed her, and the chain slid along the ground anytime she moved. I brushed my fingers over the cool metal running down her back.
“They were…they…” She sucked in another quick breath.
“It was just a dream.”
Letting out a shaky sigh, she settled against me again. “I’d rather have nightmares of the cabin. At least Zach was…someone I cared about. How messed up is that?”
“Everything about this is fucked up. I’m not surprised you’re
having nightmares. I’ve been having them for a while too.”
“I remember,” she said quietly.
Of course she did. I’d practically attacked her in my sleep our last night on the island. Figuring we could both use a distraction, I patted the mattress above my head and searched for the tube of cream someone had slipped through the slot in the door. If I had to guess at who had been feeding us and slipping first aid items inside, I’d put my money on Jax.
Still didn’t make a shred of sense though. I kept replaying his words, trying to find the angle that clicked into something recognizable, but I only went in circles. Jax was the son of Perrone, who’d proposed to Alex. Perrone was behind all of this, but he also had ties to Abbott De Luca, who could easily be involved too.
How the fuck did Jax fit into the equation?
Maybe I couldn’t figure it out because I couldn’t fucking see beyond the darkness trying to choke the monster in me.
Fisting the tube, I squirmed out from underneath her and maneuvered to my knees, depressing the mattress on each side of her legs. I unscrewed the cap and squirted what I hoped was the right amount into my hand, then I palmed her firm, round ass. “Was it this dark in the cellar?” I asked as I rubbed in the ointment.
“Mmm-hmm,” she hummed, the pressure of my hands inducing a relaxed state. I finished applying the cream and glided my palms upwards. Brushing her hair to the side, I massaged her shoulders.
“God, that feels good.”
Her words tingled down my spine, heating my blood to simmering. I was a pussy, fucking terrified of remembering, but I couldn’t help but want to. I wanted to know what it felt like to own every part of her.
“Tell me more about the cellar.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to know. I need to know everything.” I pressed my fingers deep into her muscles and worked out the knots.
“You left me naked in the cage. I didn’t have a blanket or any clothes. The thing I remember most is the cold. And the shame. You hated me, but I couldn’t blame you for it.”