“Of course, I should have thought of that. No problem. I can carry you. Come on, sit down, have breakfast, and we will get packed up to leave.” He prepares a plate, giving me a side of bacon and fish.
The smell wafts in my nose, and my stomach growls. “Thank you. It smells delicious. You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did,” he says without explanation and digs into the fish with his fingers instead of utensils. “Watch out for bones. I’m not sure if I got them all.”
I follow his lead and pull apart the fish, searching for any bones, but all I feel it fluffy meat. The first taste of the warm, lemon flavored fish has me inhaling the food. It’s the most I’ve eaten in weeks. I don’t even think I chew it to be honest. I stuff my mouth and then chew on the crispy bacon. It’s sweet and salty, perfectly cooked, and I moan as I swallow it. I bring the plate to my mouth and lick it clean, then realize what I’m doing. He’s watching me with a smile on his face as he chews slowly.
“Sorry,” I say, lowering the plate to my lap. I wipe my mouth when I realize how disgusting and unladylike I must look. I’m embarrassed. “It’s been so long. I…”
“No, don’t be sorry. I like a lady with an appetite, plus, compliments to the chef, right?” He winks at me, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
“Right,” I blush, still chastising myself when I think about what I did. I’m going to have to remember I’m going to be able to eat now, whenever I want. I won’t have to beg or cry or perform acts I never want to.
I’m ashamed of myself for doing that, for lowering myself to the point where I practically sold myself for food, but I was desperate. I was so hungry. I would have done anything for a slice of bread.
“Hey, where’d you go?” He lifts my chin from where I got lost in thought.
“Nowhere important,” I say, handing him the plate. The taste of bacon lingers on my tongue, and I wish there was more. I could eat forever if allowed … well, if I could.
“I doubt that, Jolie, but you have your secrets, and I understand the need to hold them close.” His fingers gently let go of my chin, and he grabs a bucket to his left, then walks down toward the river to fill it full of water.
He walks back, biceps bulging from the heaviness of the water he carries toward the fire. The wood hisses when he empties the water on top. The flames disappear, and smoke sways toward the sky.
“Do you need help?” I question him, wondering what I could really do, but I want to offer. I don’t like being so weak and useless. I need to recover. After that, I’ll be able to do more.
“No, you sit back and relax. I’ll get us packed up in no time. Okay?” he says, taking down the tent next at a professional speed.
He disappears behind a tree and a few seconds later comes back empty handed. No gun case, no whiskey, no tent. “Ready?” he asks as he claims the distance between us in three long strides and sweeps me into his arms effortlessly. “Jeez, you’re as light as a feather. We’ll change that. You’re safe now.” He begins the hike to this place called the Cliff House, whatever that is, and I lay my head against his chest.
We—he—walks in silence. It isn’t awkward, just peaceful. I’m staring at the beautiful tall Redwoods and see small birds and squirrels come out of hiding. I start to feel drowsy from the warmth radiating from his chest.
“So are you going to update me on what happened? I have a few miles to carry you, and I want to know why I killed a man,” he reminds me of the gunshot that rang out last night.
I open my eyes as he ducks under a branch, and for a moment I feel like he’s about to drop me.
“What’s the date?” I ask him, so I can figure out just how long I’ve been held captive.
“October 5, 2020,” he answers, and I shut my eyes to keep the emotion in.
“April 2, 2019. I was kidnapped. I don’t remember much of how I got to his cabin. I was very drowsy. He stripped me naked and chained me to the bed in a spare room. So it’s been a year and a half since I’ve been out in the real world.”
He stops walking, and his chest rises and falls with bursts of anger. “Did he … touch you?”
I lean against his pec and sigh, letting the tears roam free. “Yes. Over and over. Eventually, I think … I stopped fighting it. There was no point, you know? I believed I was going to die there. He’d starve me if I said no, beat me, keep water from me, all so I could be at his disposal. Eventually, I got pregnant,” I whimper and Owen doesn’t say anything, but he does pull me closer to him, as much as he can, almost like he’s doing his best to give me a hug. “I lost the baby. Too much stress, not enough food, but you know what? I’m so thankful I didn’t give birth in that house. Who knows what he would have done.” It sounds so empty and coldhearted, but sometimes truths hurt.
“I am so sorry that happened to you. I know what it’s like to lose a child.”
“You lost a child with someone you love. I lost a child with someone I hated and despised. I don’t know if you can compare the two.”
“You’re right,” he says. “No doubt you felt relief, even if the relief sounds fucked up. Whereas I felt anything but relieved.”
We lull into silence as he follows a well-worn path in the woods. Seems like he comes out here often if there’s a path worn.
“I’m glad I killed him. Asshole deserved to die for what he did to you. You don’t have to worry about that at the Cliff House. We protect. I promise you, you’re safe.”
So far, he has given me no reason not to believe him. “What are they like?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. The scruff of his beard rubs against the top of my head. “Well, that’s complicated to answer. I don’t know how to answer without scaring you. We’re a group of people, all criminals, but none of us are guilty. We consider ourselves a heist group. We’re criminals now, but we only steal from other criminals; does that make sense? We aren’t dangerous, at least, not to the people we care about.”
“You use your powers for good, kind of,” I try to joke, and he looks down at me, brows raised to his forehead as he nods. “Yeah, I guess you can say that, but we steal.”
“Yeah, from criminals,” I grumble, not really seeing where the issue is. “Do I need to be afraid of them? Are you warning me?”
“No, not at all. They are great guys. Jaxon is our leader, you could say. He’s married to Quinn, who is pregnant with twins. Then there is Sebastian, who is married to Gabriella. Greyson, who is married to Finley. There’s an age gap there, and you’ll notice it, but don’t say anything about it. Greyson is sensitive about it. There’s me, and there is Heaven.”
“And you? Are you or Heaven married?” I ask. I don’t know why I want to know, but something inside me is curious.
“No, I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time. Heaven is a bachelor. We only call him Heaven, but his name is Asher. You’ll understand when you see him. He’s the pretty boy of the group. He’s a flirt.”
“Sounds like a nice family,” I say, trying to remember something about mine. My life wasn’t butterflies and kittens, but more like guns with dead roses.
I’m not from a high-class family. My dad is a trucker, my mom is a waitress, and my brother is a drug dealer. I’m the only one who went to school to make something out of myself. I wanted to be an accountant. I love numbers.
But then I went late night grocery shopping, by myself, something I know better than to do. I had gotten paid and needed food. Another packet of ramen noodles were going to kill me, and on my way back to the car, darkness.
Seven
Jolie
I don’t remember much.
“And you? You have anyone waiting at home for you?”
“No,” I say sadly. “I don’t think my parents care to know where I’m at.” The saddest part of it all is that I don’t even think they looked for me. I never talked to them much, so deciding to cut them out of my life wouldn’t have been a surprise for them.
“I doubt that’s true. I’ll have our cop
friend, Officer Howard, see if there has been any missing person’s report on you, and—”
“I don’t want to go back to my family. They aren’t the best people. I’d rather get on my feet and try to make something of my life again. It took forever to get out of the trailer park, and I refuse to go back to that life. I’m three classes away from getting my degree in accounting. I’m not going to give up. I have a long journey ahead of me, and I’m not going to let my family ruin it for me. And they will.” They have the tendency of ruining everything.
“I’ll do whatever you want,” Owen says. “I’ll respect anything you want or have to say, but I think it’s worth to see if any friends or a boyfriend was looking for you.”
“No friends. No boyfriend. It’s just me,” I state, remembering my first time was with a man who kidnapped me. I never want to have sex again. If it’s like that, then I want nothing to do with the horror that comes with it.
“Now that I find hard to believe,” he says, looking down at me as he pushes a skinny tree branch out of the way. Droplets of water fall across my face from the leaves catching morning dew. He continues walking, and my breath catches when the view of a lifetime comes into sight.
“There’s no way you live here,” I say, staring at the massive house with windows and a balcony. There’s a staircase whirling up the cliffside, and the beach rolls onto the shore in small crashes while the seagulls fly overhead. There is no one here. The beach is empty.
“Yeah, it’s pretty amazing. Jaxon went all out to get us the safest, isolated place there is. We own the beach too. We like our privacy.”
I lean my head against his chest, tired from holding it up to make sure I get every angle of the masterpiece in front of me. I never thought I’d see outside of that damn cabin, but here I am, looking at paradise.
Maybe I’m dead and this is all my afterlife. It makes sense considering that I was on the verge of death. I’m on the beach, rescued by a man who I shouldn’t think is attractive. I’m laying in his hulking arms, warm and protected.
Yeah, I’m dead, and this is a dream because no way would I ever think a man is good looking in real life.
“Alright, let’s go introduce you to everyone, and then you can actually get a good night’s rest.” He walks along the beach, slowly sinking into the sand, and the salt-infused breeze blows across my face. I shut my eyes and listen to the music around me.
Waves foam as they curl and crash.
The seagulls caw above.
And the slight grains of sand rub together as Owen walks across the beach. I don’t know how he hasn’t passed out from carrying me so far, but it’s like it’s just another day for him.
Anxiety starts to curl in my stomach as we take a turn, disappearing into an enclave. The rocks are huge, jagged, and to the left is a cave that’s dark. I don’t want to go in there. Who knows what is waiting in the dark just to snatch me.
Owen climbs the steps, and they seem to be natural or carved into the rock. When we get to the top, he turns so I can see the view he gets to look at whenever he wants. It’s endless. The ocean goes on for miles, melting with the sky.
“You live in heaven,” I state, never wanting to be anywhere else but here.
“I do, don’t I? I suppose I take it for granted. I need to enjoy these luxuries; you’ve reminded me that they aren’t always there,” he says, strolling down the sidewalk until we get to the driveway and are staring at a huge garage door. He pushes his finger against the wall, and a red light scans over it.
A second later, the metal door opens and creaks, showing the impressive collection of cars. There are three trucks, an SUV, and a car that seems too luxurious for the road.
“This is the garage; it’s one of the only ways in and out of the Cliff House. We don’t have a front door. We take security seriously here.” As we step inside the garage, the black on black truck beside us is so nice, it has me curling into a tighter ball in his arms, so my feet don’t dirty the paint.
Owen reaches for the doorknob and turns it, angling his body between the door. We enter into a kitchen. To the left is a breakfast nook that has a view of the ocean, and to the right is an open kitchen area that faces the living room. There’s a TV that takes up the entire wall, and the sectional looks like it’s as soft as clouds.
“Woah, hey,” a man dressed in a pristine suit greets us as he nearly runs into Owen, coming around the corner of the hall. “I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow.” The man’s eyes drop to mine, and I immediately turn my head away, hiding away in Owen’s chest.
It’s safe there.
“Yeah, about that… This is Jolie. Jolie, this is Jaxon, the man I was telling you about, remember? You’re safe here,” he reminds me, but I didn’t expect Jaxon to be so … intimidating.
He’s tall, leaner than Owen, and has tattoos from head to toe, minus the space on his face. The sides of his heads are shaved, and the tendrils are an inky black. His eyes are dark pools of oil as he stares at me, trying to figure me out.
I gulp as Owen sets me on the floor and the cold tile has a chill running through my toes. I step behind Owen and like a child, I peek from the side of his arm, gripping onto him to keep me safe. I haven’t been around other people. It’s been me and my captor for a year and a half. I don’t know how to be anymore.
“Hi, Jolie. I’m Jaxon. It’s nice to meet you,” he says kindly, giving me a big smile that stretches across his face.
I stare at his tattooed hand; even the palms are inked.
“I promise, it’s okay,” Owen urges me, and since I trust him, I’ll trust Jaxon.
Gripping onto Owen’s shirt with my left hand, I reach my right one out and meet Jaxon. His tattoos swim over my pale, plain skin, and I feel overwhelmed. Tears threaten to fall from the brief contact with another person, a different person. It’s so different than what I’ve been conditioned to want.
I let go suddenly, unable to hold on longer because I need a minute.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Jaxon says, taking a step away.
My heart races, and sweat breaks out over my body when a loud voice booms down the hall.
“No, you eat it!”
“I’m not eating it, Heaven,” another voice says.
“I dare you. Five-thousand dollars,” the original man dares.
“I’m not eating that nasty goddamn Cheetos from your cast. You eat it!”
Two men enter the kitchen, and one is tall with brown hair, brown eyes, with an annoyed look on his face. He’s scowling at the other man who is waving a Cheeto in front of his face. The guy seems younger than the rest of them with an immaturity in his eyes that matches a teenager.
There are too many people in here. All eyes are on me. The guys stop bickering about the Cheeto when they notice me. I’m surrounded by men. Oh God.
“Hey, anyone seen my phone? I can’t find it,” another says as he enters from a different hall. “Oh, Owen, you’re back. Good, we missed ya, buddy.”
“Guys, where are the girls?”
“They went to town to get their nails done.” Jaxon rolls his eyes.
I’m alone.
With all men.
I hold a hand to my heart and take a step away from them. They’re going to kill me. The girls Owen said live here don’t exist. It was all a rouse. He trapped me here. They’re going to want to do what my kidnapper did to me. I can’t breathe. My throat is closing in. I gasp and stumble backward, slamming against the edge of the breakfast table.
“You’re okay.” Owen spins around and holds out his hand. “Remember, you can trust me. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
That’s easy for him to say. There isn’t five men looking at him like he’s lost his mind.
“You need to take deeper, longer breaths or you’re going to pass out,” Owen warns me.
I whimper when he takes a step closer. I’m so weak, but all I see and feel is the man Owen killed, the man who kept me prisoner.
Am I a prisoner again?
Owen and the rest of his friends’ faces morph into my worst nightmare. Long stringy hair, a wicked smile, and hungry eyes.
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head and do my best to snap out of this trance I’m in, this fear that’s taken root.
Owen isn’t bad. He saved me. He killed for me. He’s done nothing wrong.
“It's okay. I'm Hea—”
“Don’t fucking rush her, Heaven. Stay away,” Owen scolds his friend as he approaches.
“I want to make sure she’s okay.”
“She isn’t okay.” Owen sighs. “Give her some space. You guys are freaking her the fuck out.”
The place in front of me darkens, a shadow blocking the light penetrating my lids. Fingers wipe my cheeks, and that’s when I realize, like the weak person I am, I’m crying.
“Open your eyes, Jolie,” Owen says in front of me, his tone smooth like velvet.
I shake my head, not wanting to see all the faces looking at me.
“It’s just you and me. They left. I swear, open your eyes and look at me.”
I swallow and wiggle my toes around the floor, feeling the wood beneath my feet. The air kicks on and blows over my shoulders. I’m not used to having central air. I’m not in the cabin. I’m safe.
With a deep breath, I open my eyes and see Owen staring down at me with concern and relief written all over his face. “There you are. You had me worried. That was probably too much for you right now. I should have realized. I’m sorry for that. How about I show you to your room, get you some clothes? You can take a shower or a bath, or both? I’ll have Julia prepare you some food and bring it to you. When you’re ready, you can come out here.”
“What about you?” I ask, wondering where he’s going. Is he going to leave me with these people?
“What do you mean?”
“Where are you going?”
“I live here. You’ll see me.”
“But where? Will I be close to you?” That nervous feeling starts to come back, and I realize the only true safety I’ve felt is with Owen. I’m too afraid to be away from him right now. I’ve latched on, and it’s a bad idea.
Cruel Intoxication: A Dark Romance (Underground Kings Book 4) Page 6