Chapter 4
ALEX
Being his was the culmination of my life. Even when I became old and gray, assuming I made it that far, I knew his name would be the last vow on my lips, his face the last image in my mind.
I was born to be his.
Until he threw me away again.
I wanted to believe this time would be different.
I had no desire to escape him. My prison was beyond Rafe Mason.
The world and independence and freedom held nothing but shackles for me.
He made me fly. He made me feel alive. Rafe had the power to quiet the hissing between my ears that begged for pain because I knew he could issue it better than I ever could.
But could I trust him not to annihilate my world all over again?
For the first time in my life, I was truly fragile.
Zach had hurt me for years, but I’d constructed a wall of numbed acceptance to cope.
Lucas and his men had tried to destroy me with the strike of a whip and the threat of Rafe’s death, but we’d survived.
At least, I thought we had until he’d disappeared.
How ironic that the guy who loved me most ended up being the one to break me to pieces.
The soft, warm brush of his lips over my tattoo was so out of tune with the dark thoughts roaring in my head that I had to give myself a mental shake. I was a boneless puddle underneath him, laid out in pure vulnerability. Shell-shocked.
“How long was I out for?”
He lifted his head. “About five hours.” His lips curved downward. “I had something I couldn’t get out of tonight. Trust me, I wanted to be here with you instead.”
Trust him.
But where the fuck was he six months ago? Jax’s words echoed from that morning, as clear as if he’d uttered them now.
He didn’t make it.
The branded image of him flashed in my mind. Eyes lowered, and his shoulders slumped as soot and blood bathed his face.
There was a fire…I’m sorry…
I’d sat chained to Rafe’s bed in that safe house, my voice refusing to work, so all I’d been able to do was shake my head. Denying. Trying to convince myself Jax was a lying bastard, which technically, he was, but somewhere deep inside, I’d known. Rafe wasn’t coming back.
Now here he was months later, asking me to trust him as if nothing fundamental had changed between us, but everything had changed the instant he’d decided to bolt.
The urge to smack him was overpowering, but I tamped it down. Instead, I feathered my fingers through his dark hair, brushing away a lock and revealing a red gash above his brow. “What happened?”
“Had a fight tonight.”
So the ghost of Rafe Mason fighting underground wasn’t a ghost after all. “How bad are you hurt?”
“Not as bad as the other guy. Which reminds me…” He pushed to his hands and knees and scooted down the mattress, then rose to his feet. “I’m a mess.” He bent and released my ankles. “I want you naked when I come back from showering.”
Tingles shot through me, straight to the core of my being.
Fear, desire, even fury, and it all coalesced into a boiling pot of turbulence in my stomach.
My body wanted him. God how I wanted him.
But my mind and heart overruled, reminding me of the nights I’d sobbed into my pillow with a gun in my hand because I was scared of the shadows in the bedroom.
Because I couldn’t fucking breathe without him.
“We need to talk.” I glared at him. “I’m—”
“Gonna get naked,” he finished for me. His eyes undressed me with the heat in them, and his inflexible jaw challenged me to fight him.
I wanted to fight him. I wanted to slug him. I wanted to fuck him. But mostly, I needed him to explain. “I’m not on birth control anymore,” I said, hoping that would be enough to slow him down.
The left corner of his mouth veered up. “I can use your ass just as well, sweetheart.”
“Wh-what?”
“I’ll be the first, won’t I?”
My jaw gaped open, and I managed a stunned nod. No one had done what he wanted to do, and I didn’t know how I felt about that. He’d said something similar on the island before everything had blown up in our faces.
“Good,” he said. “I’ll be the one and only then.” He disappeared through a narrow doorway, leaving me frozen on the bed.
Why his immovable attitude shocked me, I didn’t know. Everything about this night shocked me, from the instant I’d seen the note on my door to this moment as he switched on the shower.
Rafe was here, just beyond that wall. Naked.
Alive.
And wanting to fuck me in the ass.
I scooted to the end of the bed and pulled my jacket tight. With each movement, a rocking motion made my stomach drop, and a heavy ball of dread formed. I didn’t like this. I didn’t like this at all.
I tilted my head and gazed around the room. The space was tiny, bordering on claustrophobic, and a musty scent permeated the air. Up near the ceiling, where it connected with the wall, an odd-shaped window sat above the circular anchors Rafe had used to restrain me.
Directly above my head, another anchor threatened all kinds of interesting uses from the ceiling.
It matched the ones on the wall. In fact, it matched the two rings on the floor at the end of the bed.
They were small, the type of protruding contraption one would stub a toe on if they forgot they were there.
He must have installed them because they were a custom touch, asymmetrical to the lines of the room yet aligned perfectly with the bed.
Where had he taken me? He’d said he was drugging me because I wouldn’t want to know, but that was akin to waving a red flag in front of a bull.
I tiptoed through the narrow doorway, past the sound of water running behind a closed door, and trailed my palm over the table on my right.
On the other side, a built-in seating area sat between two rustic wood panels.
Ahead, the kitchen was unusually small, the type I’d expect to find in an RV.
Or on a boat.
Sucking in a noisy breath that fractured the quiet, I clung to the metal poll that spanned vertical from the sloping roof to the thin carpeting under my bare feet.
Either I was dizzy from the drugs…or the floor was moving.
A staircase called to me, daring me to climb and see what lay beyond, but I couldn’t get my hands to let go of the bar.
The floor swayed again, and I heard his steps an instant before his fingers curled around my bicep.
“What are you doing out here?” His voice traveled down my spine, and for several moments, silence blared through my ears like a reprimand.
My limbs stiffened, muscles tensing to keep from shaking.
He pried my fingers from the metal and turned me around to face him.
Water dripped from his hair, running down his chest, squiggling down the lines of his tattoos.
His green eyes drank me up, and the weight of that stare wrapped around me like a blanket, entrapping me in the cocoon of his ire.
“C’mon,” he said, tugging me back into the stifling bedroom.
“Can you stop for a minute?” My heart pounded in my throat as I fought his grip.
“What part of naked did you not understand?” He whirled me around and abruptly let go. I stumbled backward and plopped onto the bed.
“The part where you let me think you were dead! That’s the part I don’t understand.”
He swung his arms out to the sides. “What do you want from me, Alex?”
“I want to know how you could walk away like that? How you could say you love me one minute then fucking disappear the next!”
With a sigh, he lowered his head. “I can’t give you an explanation.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He peeked up through thick lashes. “Won’t. You begged for my fucking darkness, well here it is, sweetheart. You’ve got it.”
I studied him, struggling to catch my breath. He was holding something back, something he didn’t want me to know. Because he was scared? I folded my arms, all too aware of the sound my jacket made with the movement, and how he wanted it gone along with the rest of my clothing.
“Whatever you’re hiding—”
“Who says I’m hiding anything?”
I held his gaze. “The way you’re looking at me is telling me you’re hiding something. Please, Rafe. I need you. All of you.” Like he’d promised, with no walls standing between us. No secrets.
“Please,” I begged again in a whisper. “Why’d you do it?”
He stepped forward though he didn’t touch me. Not yet. Slowly, I lowered my gaze to his erection then met his eyes again, wondering if he’d really force anal. The guy who’d kidnapped me all those months ago, before the memory loss, would’ve fucked me any way he wanted. I saw that guy in Rafe now.
“I did it because I was a spineless dick.” He grabbed my chin. “I don’t have that problem anymore, so I’ll give you one more chance to get naked.”
Hurt flared behind my breastbone. “Or what?”
“Don’t test me. I know exactly what buttons to push.” He ran his thumb over my lower lip before letting go of my chin. We were engaged in a standoff, one I wouldn’t win, but I’d be damned if I didn’t put up some sort of fight.
Just to piss him off, I took my time shrugging out of my jacket, took even longer removing my tattered shirt.
He retreated, giving me room to stand, and it irked me that he didn’t seem the least bit bothered by my slow strip tease.
I pushed my jeans and panties down my thighs until they dropped to the floor.
Carefully, I stepped out of the puddle of clothing, my gaze never breaking from his, and reached behind me to unclasp my bra.
The straps slid down my arms, inch by inch until my breasts tumbled free. He pulled his lip between his teeth.
“Lay down,” he said, voice thick and raw. “Spread your legs.”
“Rafe, please—”
“Fuck, baby.” He hissed in a breath. “Keep begging.”