by James, Gemma
“I can sleep on the couch.” Angel’s delicate voice broke through the chaos of my runaway thoughts.
“Take the room,” I said, turning to face her. “If Jax wants you in here, you should be in here.”
Especially since I didn’t know the dynamic of their relationship. If they even had one. For all I knew, Jax was in charge, like Rafe was with me, and he’d punish her disobedience.
“Okay.” Without another word, she let the small duffle on her shoulder slide to the bed. I stood back, curiosity getting the best of me while she filled a drawer in the dresser with her meager belongings.
Undergarments on the left side, tees in the middle, followed by shorts and skirts on the right. She set each folded article inside, one at a time.
Everything in threes.
The whole time, she didn’t speak, and I was stunned into utter silence when she gripped the hem of her tank top and dragged it up her protruding ribcage. She removed her clothing with reverence, folding each garment into a perfect square before placing it on top of the dresser in a neat pile.
Maybe to be washed?
Next, the duffle found a spot in the top of the closet.
Then she kneeled at the end of the bed with her hands clasped at her back, eyes downcast.
Totally fucking naked.
11. MAN TALK
Rafe
“Who’s the girl?”
Instead of answering, Jax headed toward the kitchen. “I’m so hungry I could chew off my arm. Whatcha fixing?”
My stomach rumbled, reminding me that the bathtub session with Alex had interrupted breakfast. It was now past lunchtime. “Omelets. Finish chopping the veggies while you tell me what the fuck is going on.”
He took over Alex’s post while I added additional eggs for Jax and his mystery woman. “It’s been a while since we talked,” he said, expertly handling the knife.
“Sorry. We didn’t have cell service at camp.”
“I know.”
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
Something was on his mind. Jax was too candid to keep quiet for long, so with a flip of the switch on the stove burner, I decided to wait him out.
“Why the detour?” he said, and I didn’t have to ask him what he meant by that. Considering we were only weeks away from finishing work on the island, he probably wanted to know why were bunking down in a safe house instead of at my brother’s vineyard.
“Alex is still dealing with everything that went down last year. She’s scared I’m going to leave her.”
Shaking his hair out of his eyes, he raised a brow. “And you think bringing her back here is going to magically fix everything?”
“Fuck no.” There was no magic fix for what Alex was going through. I knew it because I’d been there…was still there. “But it’s a start. I’m taking it one day at a time.”
“That’s all you can do.”
“Jax, who’s the girl?”
He paused before slicing an onion in half. “I found her in Mexico.”
“When did you go back?”
“A couple of weeks ago.”
“You got a new lead?”
“Yeah.”
Chop.
Chop.
Chop.
“And?” I prompted.
He laid down the knife. “My sister is dead.”
His statement came down on me hard, like the hammer of a gavel. Everything he’d done had been for his sister. The whole reason he’d allowed his son-of-a-bitch father to throw Alex and me into that tunnel was so he could buy enough time to find info on her whereabouts. I felt bad for him, but I couldn’t deny the bitterness that dug under my skin, refusing to be displaced. We’d all gone through so much hell, and all for a fucking ghost.
“You sure she’s…gone?”
“Dental records confirmed it.”
“I’m sorry, Jax.” And I was, despite the quiet anger taking hold of me.
Anger at Jax.
Anger at the De Lucas.
Anger at Fate.
I was ready to flip Fate the finger.
“Me too,” Jax said. “More than I can say.”
And just like that, we understood each other. The past couldn’t ever be changed. We’d lived it, survived it, bled for it. And we were still standing.
“Is she a victim of sex trafficking?” I nodded toward the bedrooms.
“Yeah.” Anguish corroded his tone. “I couldn’t fucking leave her there, so I broke her out. Almost got wasted over it.” There was no mistaking the horror and pain in his voice—a dark, gruff sound that strangled his vocal cords.
He’d seen things in his lifetime, possibly more than I had.
“You were smart to bring her here. She obviously needs help, and Alex could use a friend. Plus, she’s had some experience with victims.”
“Right,” he said with a nod. “Her stint at Sanctuary.”
Back when I was “dead.” Maybe reminding Alex of that time wasn’t such a good idea even if it would help someone else. But damn, if anyone could relate to a victim of sexual slavery, it was Alex.
My previous memory-loss-self would point out how Alex was still a victim, this time by my own hand. And that man would probably back down, set her free. Break her heart all over again for her own good. But the man standing in this kitchen, talking about such horrors as if they were the norm, accepted that she was born to be owned.
She was fucking mine.
Right or wrong, I’d do with her as I saw fit.
And right or wrong, she’d get off on it.
Like this morning. After shoving her under water and scaring the ever-loving fuck out of her, she’d still been desperate to fuck me into next Sunday. And I’d let her. Not only let her, but submitted to it because I hadn’t had a choice. The little vixen had me wrapped, and I wasn’t sure she realized it.
Or maybe she did.
A door in the hallway opened, followed by the soft pad of Alex’s footsteps. I recognized them before I saw her enter the living room. The look on her face gave me pause.
“What’s wrong?”
“She’s…” Alex tilted her head toward the bedroom. “She’s on the floor, naked.”
Jax cursed under his breath. “I’ll take care of it.” He left the kitchen, and I followed, instructing Alex to keep watch over the food on the stovetop. She wanted to argue with me, but one hard look sent her into motion.
Jax pushed the door to his bedroom open, and I averted my eyes to the naked girl kneeling on the floor.
“Get up.” He strode to her, and from my periphery, I saw her jump to her feet.
“Yes, Master.”
“I’m not your goddamn master. We’ve talked about this.”
She flinched at his harsh tone. I entered the room, no longer caring about giving her privacy, and settled a hand on Jax’s shoulder.
“Let me bring Alex back in. Maybe she can talk to her.”
Jax was too frustrated to get through to Angel. The girl was obviously suffering some unspeakable torment. If it were Alex experiencing a mental break, I’d know how to handle her.
But this girl was a total stranger.
For the first time since Jax arrived with his tagalong in tow, I wondered if he were in over his head.
“Yeah,” he finally said, letting out a breath. “Maybe they can go for a walk or something after lunch.”
I didn’t like that idea, but deep down I knew I couldn’t keep Alex within sight for the rest of our lives. Eventually, she would need some freedom. And I’d have to find a way to give it to her without having a panic attack at the thought of all the fucking things that could happen to her.
This cabin was a transitional phase for both of us. A more permanent place than the cities we’d hopped through for the last few months, and not as remote as where we’d settled in to camp, just the two of us.
It was also closer to home.
Home was a scary fucking place.
Home was too damn close t
o her father.
The thought of letting her go into town for work or school or whatever she might want to do after we got our lives back threatened to squeeze the air from my lungs. Sweat bathed my palms, and I had to concentrate hard to slow my breathing.
Alex would have zero fucking freedom until I knew for certain that her father posed no danger. And as for Zach…he was still a festering question mark. Jax and I had more than his stowaway to discuss.
The stowaway in question lowered to her knees again. “I don’t know what you want from me, Mast—” She cut off, swallowing hard. “Sorry.”
Before Jax could reply, I grabbed him by the shoulder and ushered him from the room. “Have you considered taking her somewhere to get help?”
“Of course I have. She has no memory, so I can’t contact family, and when I mentioned getting the law involved to help her find out who she is, she went fucking crazy on me. Total hysteria, man. She sees me as her fucking savior or something.”
“She seems scared of you.”
“She is, but I’m tame compared to the sick fuck who had her before. I can’t figure out why, but she seems to trust me.”
“Do you know how long they had her for?”
“No, but based on the way she acts, it was long enough to wipe out her identity.” Jax’s face fell. “She reminds me of the old man’s favorite slaves. He spent a lot of time on them, if you know what I mean.”
The thought made me sick.
I peeked at Alex, who stood at the stove with her back to Jax and me. She pretended not to listen, but I was positive she’d heard every word. And part of me wondered if she compared herself to the girl in Jax’s bedroom.
Did she see what I did?
Alex hadn’t chosen this, but she’d submitted. She loved the fuck out of me, but there’s that saying that a duck is still a duck. Our relationship was fucked, and no matter how we dressed it up, she’d always be a victim.
My victim.
For her sake, I had to do better by her.
“Babe, c’mere.”
“Just a sec,” she said, transferring an odd-shaped omelet onto a plate. As she made her way across the room, I couldn’t help but smile. She couldn’t cook worth a damn, but not for lack of trying.
“Think you can go in there and talk to her?”
“I can try.”
“That’s my girl.” Then I kissed her because she deserved a thousand fucking kisses every day for putting up with me.
12. KINDRED SPIRITS
Alex
She liked to tilt her face back and close her eyes. Angel didn’t say much, but she didn’t have to.
I knew she was soaking up the sunlight.
We’d been walking for about ten minutes in silence. Rafe made me carry my phone, location services enabled, so he could find me. It hadn’t been a request, but it wasn’t done entirely out of possessiveness either.
“Is he your Master?”
I jumped, her voice startling me after so much companionable quiet.
“Um, no. He’s my…my fiancé.”
God, how I loved saying that. How I hoped it were true.
“Oh.”
Oh?
I’d only known her for a couple of hours, but I was finding that she was a woman of few words. She hadn’t said anything during lunch beyond please and thank you.
“We do have a…I guess you could call it a different type of relationship. It works for us.”
She glanced at me with interest. “How is it different?”
I wavered, unsure of how much to tell her. On one hand, having someone to talk to who might understand some of what she’d been through could be comforting. On the other hand…
I didn’t want to scare the shit out of her with all the gory details.
The rush of water drew my attention, and I realized we’d reached a creek. Instead of my phobia sending me into a panicked flight mode, like it would have done last year, I gestured for her to sit cross-legged next to me on the embankment. A quick glance at my phone ensured I still had service.
Rafe had promised an ass stuffed with ginger if I went out of bounds. When it came to my safety, he wouldn’t hold back.
And that right there was exactly what I didn’t know how to explain to Angel.
But her expectant face demanded an answer.
“Well, Rafe is in charge.”
“So he’s your Master?”
“What do you mean by master, Angel?”
“You know,” she said, her brows narrowing over blue eyes full of confusion, “the man who owns you.”
Something about her was almost child-like, as if she’d experienced the world through lenses different from the rest of us.
“How old are you?” I asked, guessing she wasn’t a day past eighteen.
“Master said I don’t have an age.”
“And you don’t remember your name?”
Again, she drew her brows together, deep in thought. “Master called me Pet.” She chewed on her lip. “He’s going to be angry with me.”
“How come?”
“For letting New Master give me a name.”
I shook my head, sorrow clogging my throat for a few seconds. “You’re free now, Angel. Whoever hurt you before isn’t going to do it again.”
“You don’t understand,” she said, her lips pinching in distress. “I tried leaving Master once before, but he found me.” Long, dark lashes fluttered over her pale skin, and a tear trickled free. “I don’t want to go back. If New Master will claim me, I won’t have to.” Her expression practically pleaded with me. “New Master is kind.”
“His name is Jax.”
She shook her head, eyes wide. “Men are always called Masters.”
“No. Men are men, and women are women.” A weight dropped to the bottom of my gut, souring my stomach. Angel’s limited vocabulary and conversation skills told me the sicko who’d held her captive did so for a very long time, probably since she was a young child.
The thought that she could have been born into that world…
I was so sickened by the possibility that acid rose in my throat, and for a few nerve-wracking seconds, I thought I might puke.
“Listen to me,” I said, grabbing her hands, ignoring her automatic flinch. She didn’t like to be touched. “There are no masters.” Not unless one got into kink, but that was too far out of her understanding right now.
“Th-there’s not?”
“No. People have names. I’m Alex. Rafe is Rafe. And you know Jax’s name already.” I paused, expecting her to protest, but she didn’t. “Say his name, Angel.”
“J-Jax.” Her gaze wandered, first left then right, as if she expected to be struck down for calling a man by any other name than Master.
“Say it again.”
“Jax.”
“See? No one is going to hurt you for using his name.”
“He did.”
I clenched my hands, already envisioning my fists pounding on Jax. Granted, our history was a rocky one, and he’d certainly put his hands on me in the past per Rafe’s instruction, but I didn’t think he’d sink so low as to hurt someone as fragile as Angel.
I wanted to fucking kill him.
“How did Jax hurt you?”
“Not Jax. Master.”
I gulped, the urge to vomit returning. Instead of speaking, I gave her hand a quick squeeze, hoping she wouldn’t shrink back from the contact this time, and silently encouraged her to open up about her past, no matter how horrific.
She seemed to deliberate for a moment before parting her lips. “I can talk to you?”
“You can always talk to me.”
“Master beat me. Sometimes, he wouldn’t feed me for days. Other times, he locked me in a dog kennel for…I’m not really sure how long.” Her voice cracked, and she implored me with her blue eyes. “I can’t go back to that. If Jax will be my Master—”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” I interrupted. “You don’t need a master. Jax just
wants to help you. So do I.”
We locked gazes for several moments, until a bird squawked, and Angel jumped. I watched her retreat into herself again, helpless to stop it.
No more eye contact or conversation for us. It appeared the heart-to-heart was over. I got to my feet. “We should probably head back.”
She merely nodded, her movement fluid and graceful as she rose to stand, almost as if she had the body of a dancer. I wanted to ask if she’d ever danced, but I kept the question—and many more—to myself. Maybe over time, she’d come to trust me. Maybe we could even be friends.
We were halfway to the cabin when I realized how much I missed having a real friend. In school, I’d had a few people I called friends, though they were more like acquaintances. Keeping the kind of secrets I’d held on to for so many years made it difficult to form bonds.
The secrets I’d kept made it difficult to trust.
Rafe was my best friend. He was my everything, and on most days, that was enough.
But today brought that gaping hole of a social life to the forefront. How crazy that a simple walk with another woman had the power to change how I viewed my life.
I missed this.
The simple act of hanging out and chatting. Even a heavy conversation like the one I’d shared with Angel was better than no conversation at all.
Every so often, I shot her a sideways glance, hoping she’d throw a socially starved girl a bone. Seemed she’d shared all the bones she had for the day.
Patience, I reminded myself. She’d come around. Healing took time.
We approached the cabin, and the front door stood open, the screen shut to keep the flies out. Just as I lifted a foot to climb the first step of the porch, Rafe’s voice slammed my feet to a halt.
“I don’t want Alex to know about this just yet.”
“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Jax said, and I motioned for Angel to stay silent, index finger pressed to my lips. “So what are you gonna do?”
Rafe didn’t answer right away. “Get married. The wedding should be enough to keep her occupied.” Any hope I’d had that he wanted to marry me sank to the bottom of my gut.
“But what if she does find out? Dontcha think we should have a backup plan?”
“The shackle in the bedroom is my backup. If she flips out that’ll keep her out of trouble.”