by Gemma James
He ran a hand through his hair. “I might’ve said something about the barn.”
“Jeez,” I said, shaking my head.
“She was pointing a fucking gun at me. What was I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know,” I said, attempting to contain my aggravation. “Handle the situation? She wasn’t gonna shoot you.”
“You didn’t see her face. She’s not the same scared-shitless girl from six months ago.”
“She’s upset with me,” I muttered, and I couldn’t blame her. I’d put her through the wringer—six months ago, last night, even this morning when I’d laid her on the table for breakfast. She had too many questions and no fucking answers.
I dialed her cell and got her voicemail straight away. Either her phone was dead, or she’d shut it off. Or someone had shut it off for her. With a hard swallow, I banished the thought from my mind. Shelton had stowed Zach in shackles somewhere, and he had incentive enough to make sure the fucker stayed there. No one had taken her. Not this time. I refused to believe it, so that meant she’d gone off on her own.
But why?
Rubbing his wrists, Jax leaned against the bench, and I sank onto the sofa across from him.
“Shelton wants me to fight Zach, with Alex as the prize. If she followed me to the barn…” I cursed under my breath. “She might’ve overheard something she shouldn’t have.”
“Or she’s scared out of her mind after pulling a fucking gun on me.” Jax’s face hardened. “She should be scared. You need to get that shit under control pronto.”
He might be right, but I couldn’t drive away the anxiety in my stomach. If she’d overheard us, then she’d seen Zach. Maybe she’d removed herself from the situation so she couldn’t be used as a bargaining chip. Seemed like something she’d do.
But had she taken off because she was worried about my part in this upcoming fight, or because she was afraid for her brother? Did she sense how badly I wanted to rip into him? Maybe she’d caught a whiff of the metaphorical blood on my hands, and the realization that she was in love with a monster had sent her packing—had sent her careening over the cliff, a thread away from another mental meltdown.
“Fuck. I’ve gotta find her.”
I’d never hitchhiked in my life. Luckily for me, the woman who picked me up wasn’t a psychopath. Maybe fate had decided I’d had enough run-ins with the dark and sinister type. Ironically, hitching a ride with a stranger was probably about as safe as merely breathing.
She pulled alongside the curb in downtown Portland and wished me luck.
“Thanks for letting me tag along,” I said, pushing the passenger door open.
The frigid air whipped my messy hair into my face. I swiped the locks from my eyes, standing on the sidewalk as I watched my Good Samaritan wheel away in her SUV. I was surprised she’d let me into her pristine ride, considering how my sneakers were caked in mud from hiking through the soggy fields surrounding the barn. I must have spent forty-five minutes walking before I found the highway, and another half hour waiting until someone picked me up. The whole time, I’d agonized over Rafe finding me…and agonized over whether or not I wanted him to.
Shivering in my hoodie that was barely thick enough to ward off a breeze, let alone temperatures this low, I dug my phone out and stared at the blank screen. I’d shut the thing off during my trek through the fields, afraid that Rafe would call, and I’d lose my nerve to flee.
Even now, I was scared to turn it back on—not that I had anyone I could call to pick me up. I could call Evelyn, but I hadn’t spoken to her since the day Zach’s phone call had ruined my lunch with her. Besides, dragging anyone into this situation was selfish. My therapist was the only person I felt comfortable enough to talk to. Sandra would offer an unbiased ear—unbiased except for where the law was concerned. If I unloaded everything on her, she’d insist on contacting the police, and sure, they’d arrest my brother. But what about Rafe? He was participating in illegal fighting. I wouldn’t be the reason he went back to jail. Never again.
But something needed to change because I couldn’t go on like this anymore. I was lost, a wanderer inside my life, herded along by the will of others, and it needed to stop.
I spotted a coffee shop less than a block away, and my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten yet. As I hurried down the sidewalk, that cafe called to me with the warmth it offered. I entered, letting out a relieved sigh, and rubbed my hands together while I waited in line to order a cappuccino and something sinful to nibble on.
The young guy behind the counter was too swamped with customers to pay extra attention to me, which suited me fine. Settling at a small table in the corner away from other people, I bit into a pastry, sipped from my steaming cappuccino, and wished for the power of invisibility. I needed my car so I could get the hell out of Dodge.
Because thinking with a clear head was impossible around Rafe. He hypnotized me with his presence, with the way he played my body as if I were his personal instrument. At that moment, surrounded by normal people enjoying their Sunday in a coffee shop, escaping the chill of winter, I realized how badly I was reeling.
My cell taunted me from the table, its mere presence screaming how I couldn’t avoid Rafe forever. Picking up the phone, I powered it up, and just as I feared, several missed call notifications blared at me from the screen. A shrill ring made me jump, and I slid the green bar to the right, brought the phone to my ear with trembling fingers, and whispered a hello.
“Where the fuck are you?” Rafe’s frantic voice issued a sharp pang through my temple.
Shit, he was mad.
“Somewhere safe.”
“You think you’re safer on your own than with me?”
I gazed around the shop, but no one was paying me any attention. Just in case, I kept my voice low. “I won’t be the prize in a fight. I’m not a piece of meat.”
“What you are is mine, and you’re gonna tell me where you are.”
I gritted my teeth. “I’ll kill myself before I let Zach get his hands on me again. And next time, I won’t botch up the job.”
A growl filtered through the phone. “I’ll spank your ass black and blue if you ever talk like that again.”
As if he were standing over me, threatening to punish me in person, my muscles tightened.
He let out a breath, and his furious tone evened out. “Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.”
“N-no.”
“Sweetheart,” he warned.
“Not until you call off this fight with Zach.”
An aggravated sigh traveled through the line. “I can’t do that.”
“Please, Rafe,” I begged, blinking, horrified that I was nearly crying in public. “Do it for me.”
“I am doing this for you!” he shouted. I winced, holding the phone away from my ear until the screeching stopped. “Tell me where you are right now, or I swear to God—”
I pressed the button to end the call, powered off the phone, and gazed at my shaking hand. I didn’t know how long I sat there, zoning out, the quiet chatter lulling me into a sense of peace. Except reality was waiting beyond the door of this temporary haven, and I didn’t know what to do.
Run, or go back to him?
The idea of running, of never seeing him again, broke my heart, but I couldn’t go back while things were the way they were. I suspected he’d taken me because Zach posed a threat. He loved me enough to protect me, but after witnessing his nightmare while pinned under the lethal strength of his hands, after overhearing his phone call this morning, I realized, even if he didn’t, that he still blamed me too.
I stood on quaking legs and made my way to the exit, avoiding eye contact with people. Could they tell how rattled I was by looking at me? Not even the blistering cold could penetrate the dread coiling around my body.
I’d just hung up on him.
What the hell was I thinking? But I wasn’t thinking, and that was the problem. I hopped on a city bus, my mind as frozen as the weather, and
after a couple hours and two transfers, I reached my neighborhood as night descended. This wasn’t how I thought I’d spend my Sunday. Seemed like Rafe had taken me days ago, yet a mere 24 hours had passed since I found him lurking in the shadows just inside my foyer.
As I approached my house on foot, a Ford pickup caught my eye, parked a few houses down by the curb. Instantly, I knew it belonged to Rafe. I’d never seen it on my street, and his presence beyond my door hit me in waves, as if I felt him in there, waiting for me, his anger palpable.
My car sat untouched in the driveway, and I had my keys in my purse. I could climb in and drive away. But then what? Where would I go?
I had nowhere to go. I only had him. I only wanted him.
But did he want me because the thought of being apart made him ill, or was the threat of Zach the reason Rafe had come back into my life after all these months? I couldn’t turn away without knowing, regardless of how much the sane part of me wanted to. Preparing myself for the ultimate showdown, I climbed the icy steps and went inside.
I paced Alex’s small kitchen and glared at my cell for the hundredth time. No lie. Since she’d hung up on me, my eyes could have burned a hole through that frustratingly silent phone. I’d called her back too many times to keep track of, and each time I heard her voicemail, I wanted to put my fist through a wall.
She was fucking lucky I hadn’t turned her house upside down. Too much energy flushed my system, so I paced. I waited. I raided her damn fridge, downing two stray beers I suspected Jax had left during one of his check-in visits.
And I imagined all kinds of crazy shit.
Was she with someone else? Some other guy I’d have to kill because the thought of Alex with anyone else made me see red. Or maybe she’d hopped on a bus or train, headed for parts unknown. What was she thinking? I thought she’d make her way back since she lived here…except that wasn’t quite right either. Her home was with me, and mine was with her, wherever we ended up.
But her fucking car was still parked in the driveway. If she were on the run, surely she’d need her damn car.
Tick tock, tick tock, but no Alex. Where was she? When I did get my hands on her…
She had no idea how much this was tearing me up, not knowing where she was, not knowing if she was safe or on the verge of a breakdown. My imagination galloped ahead, and I envisioned her in a bathtub full of blood with deep gashes in her wrists. I didn’t think she was suicidal, but I couldn’t wipe history from my overactive mind. I should have never left her six months ago.
The knob on the front door turned, and I tried to calm the sudden flow of adrenaline rushing my veins. I shut off the light over the stove. It was the only light I’d switched on after gaining entrance to her house with the key Jax had supplied me with months ago. The one she’d never known about.
I heard the door open and close, then the latch of a deadbolt. Moving into the foyer with light steps, I aimed to take her by surprise, but her words stopped me cold.
“I know you’re here, so there’s no need to sneak up on me.” She flipped on the light by the door, and her eyes met mine. She’d known I was waiting, yet she’d come inside anyway.
I let out a breath. “You’re not fucking running from me,” I said, keeping my voice even. But I must have hit a nerve.
“You’re the one good at running,” she snapped. “Zach is the only reason you came back, isn’t he?” Tears welled in her eyes, and for once, I didn’t want to pounce on them.
I was guilty. Zach’s escape had been the precipitous event that sent me careening toward her, but it wasn’t the only reason, and the fact that she didn’t know that pissed me off.
It also made me kick myself.
She wiped under her jade eyes, and her burning gaze flagellated me with hurt and indignant anger.
“I want you to go,” she whispered. “Do what you need to do in that stupid barn.”
“I’m not leaving you here—”
“Just go away!” she screamed, hurtling her purse at me. I ducked, and the thing hit the wall behind my head. A bang went off, and we both jumped. I let the expletives fly then gaped at the remains of her purse.
“The fuck, Alex?”
“Oh my God…the gun…” she sobbed, covering her face with shaking hands. She whirled and reached for the doorknob as if she couldn’t believe what she’d nearly done and needed to run from it.
I sprang forward and pulled her against me, shackling her in the cage of my arms. She shook with unrestrained sobs.
“I’m s-sorry,” she said with a hiccup. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I know you didn’t. Stop fighting me.”
“Just let me go.”
I dropped my arms and slid around her, inserting myself between her and escape. She tried to maneuver past me, but I blocked her, stepping to the right when she did, then to the left. She came to a halt, her shoulders slumping in defeat.
“This is all…you and me…” She waved a hand between us, her words broken by the pain constricting her voice. “This is all just to keep me safe, right? I’m nothing but an obligation.”
Taking her by the shoulders, I turned around and backed her against the door. Fuck. Now I wanted the tears. Even her anger because it didn’t sear me the way her desolation did. “Baby, your douchebag brother only gave me an excuse to do the wrong thing here.”
Tears slid down her face, and her breaths came fast and shallow. “You left a hole in my heart. It took me six months, but…” Avoiding my eyes, she gulped. “I don’t need you anymore.”
“Well I need you!” I shook her shoulders, trying to banish the apathy from her bones. She was a fucking liar, cold, shut down with insurmountable walls in place. But why? Had the sight of Zach sent her into this state, or was it my fault? “I need you so fucking much. Don’t make me beg.”
The current between us sizzled, shifted, and she pulled my mouth down on hers, teeth tugging on my lip. She was a demanding little vixen in that kiss, and I was a goner. Her fingers sifted through my hair, clutched and pulled.
“Trust me,” I murmured against her lips. “I took you because I wanted to.” Another slow slide of our tongues stole my sanity. “Making you bend is all I think about,” I rasped between more kisses. “The thought of never sinking inside you again drives me insane.”
She drew back and peered at me with a splotchy face, studying me like I was a fucking enigma. “How much trouble am I in?” A hint of fear laced those words. She was too smart not to realize how screwed she was.
“A lot.”
“What do you want from me?” she nearly shrieked. She’d given so much of herself already, but it would never be enough. I’d always want more. I sensed she was beginning to understand the consequences of being with someone like me, and it scared her.
My memory loss had shown her a gentler side, and even though that guy wasn’t completely dead and gone, he wasn’t in the driver seat now. But she wanted him. She’d pleaded for the harsh reality of the guy who’d taken want he wanted from her, but underneath it all, she yearned for normalcy.
Kindness.
Gentleness with a little kink.
She didn’t want to give up control, or if she did, she struggled with it.
“I want you safe,” I bit out, gripping her chin. “I want you fucking crying.” To emphasize my words, I tightened my grip on her jaw. “Most of all, I want you naked and tied down on my boat, helpless.” I angled my head, waiting for some sort of reaction. “I want you begging for the pain to stop.”
“No,” she said in a breathless whisper though that single word packed a punch. She nibbled on her lip, her gaze pensive…aroused. Fuck, my dick wanted out to play. How did she do this to me?
“Are you really telling me no?”
“Yes.” The tip of her tongue darted along the seam of her stubborn mouth. “I have a condition.”
“What would that be?”
“Tell me the truth. If Zach hadn’t gotten away, would you have come for me?” H
er expression screamed what she didn’t say. She wanted to know if I could be so heartless as to leave her forever thinking I was dead. I was that heartless, but only because I did want to protect her.
From me.
This fucker right here who was close to shoving her over the arm of her couch and ramming his cock in her ass, simply because taking her that way pushed her beyond her limits.
And he wouldn’t ask for permission.
This guy was a doer, the type of man that didn’t rehash every moment of his history with her and let it dictate his next move. This guy was me.
The new and improved me with nasty blood-filled memories and all.
“Yes,” I said. “I would have, eventually, because nothing on this fucking Earth can save you from me.”
Rafe intoxicated me with his high-octane sex appeal. I wasn’t sure he realized just how potent he was. My head drowned in lust’s deep end, and my fear and anger and sadness—none of it combatted the fact that had I been wearing panties, I would have drenched them by now. As it was, my need for him dripped down the inside of my thighs, no doubt soaking through my jeans.
“I don’t want to be saved. I want to be fucked.” I stared him down, daring him to deny me this time. He wouldn’t—not with the way his green eyes sparked, or the unconscious way he pulled his lower lip, still damp from my kiss, between desperate teeth.
He rested his forehead against mine and groaned. “You tempt me, my little slut.”
I slid my hand past his drawstring waistband, glad he hadn’t changed into pants with annoying buttons and zippers, and wrapped my fingers around his hard cock. “Look who’s talking,” I said, swirling my thumb over the silky head.
“Shit, baby.” And that was the last thing he said for a while. Our mouths clashed in a warring feud. We couldn’t get enough of each other. I slid my palms under his shirt, up his chest, dragging the soft cotton along for the ride. He pulled back long enough to yank it from his body, and the shirt flew behind him somewhere, lost in the shadows of my living room.
We slowly made our way in that direction, losing more clothing on the way. After I shed my jeans, he hoisted me in his embrace, hands firm on my hips. I wrapped my legs around him, and he twirled until we fell onto the couch with me on top. I straddled him, my hair falling all around us, and drove onto his cock in a downward thrust.